The Green Man of Avington
The hated Richard Puinguiant died in 1125 - the twenty-fifth year
of the reign of King Henry. From Lord Richard's manor at Avington,
the news was brought to Wulfgar son of Æfward son of Eafa
in the depth of Selwood Forest on a hot summer day. Edith, Wulfgar's
child-bride, was unforgiving.
"May he be pierced by devils' spears," she called from
the gloom of their hut.
And from beyond her came the curse of her dying father who spoke
the ancient tongue of the Britons.
Grey-bearded Wulfgar thanked the chapman for carrying the message;
he gave him two silver pennies.
"'Pax'," the man read, examining each coin carefully.
"My coin is new-minted in Bath," Wulfgar told him. "I'll
not repay kindness with trickery. Go to the alehouse and eat. Give
my name: it's as good as my coin."
The traveller eyed the fugitives' humble shelter.
"What did the sick man say?" he asked.
"Eadwig is of the old religion. He invoked the Green Man to
destroy Puinguiant's heirs."
"Dona nobis pacem," the chapman sighed, crossing
himself. "Will you forest people never be at peace with the
Normans?"
"When unjust men are gone, all coin is as good as mine and
there's bread enough, then will the King's promises be believed
by the true men of Wessex."
Edith went to Wulfgar's side, felt for his hand and squeezed it.
"This news is a beginning," she smiled.
Eadwig died three days later. His last wish was to be buried like
his ancestors on Cymmerprys Eyot at Avington. Wulfgar was apprehensive.
"Even after twenty-five years there'll be men there who'll
remember that our families were driven out," he objected. "We
know nothing of the new lord, Edith. He could be worse than Richard.
And as for burial in the old tradition, who knows the rite now that
your father's gone?"
Edith, her dark eyes glistening, drew a chest from beneath her father's
couch. She took out a roll.
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