Chapter 3 - The Long Road Out Of Eden

The men around the table all leap to their feet, while Bertha and Eadgyth squeal and try to hide themselves. Eadbald's hand immediately goes to his blade.

"WAIT!" Adelmar shouts as Eadbald goes for his blade. "She is not an enemy. She means you no harm." He glares a very significant glance toward  Muireann. "I am unharmed," he says. "I'm here of my own volition."

Eadbald hesitates... and then relaxes his sword arm, although his hand remains on the haft. "What is this, Adelmar?" The Ætheling demands. "Who is this wildling?"

Adelmar shoulders are tensed, nearly shaking with the tension in the room. "She is a travelling companion of mine," he says. "We were kept in chains by the same slavers and took up the same cause -- to free the children that have been taken under the wing of this dark priest."

Eadbald looks from Muireann to Adelmar, but his eyes narrow when the children are mentioned. "...the children. Where are they? What have you done?"

Goewyn keeps looking over her shoulder and checking on the unconscious priest nearby as the children quietly rush around to gather their things. Gruffyd supervises their activity and within what feels like an excruciating amount of time, he reports to his older sister that they are all ready to go. "Okay, you must lead them and I will follow up behind. I do not know where the others have gone, but this worries me greatly. Do not stop for anyone, I will follow the last in line. If any tries to stop you, just start running and I will handle them. Do this quietly though, no shouting or yelling. That will bring the entire town down upon us. I have a friend outside who is waiting for us. Tell him that I am coming behind and that he is to start leading you all out towards the lands beyond. Go now." She grabs him into a tight embrace. 

The children slip unseen along the passages of the king's hall and towards the kitchen. Gruffyd peers around the doorway, sharp eyes seeking their path to freedom, but one of the cooks spots the children gathering behind him. "Oi! What're you lot gawking at!" He yells. The cry can be heard from the main hall. In the same moment, Ecgberht returns with Augustine, who glares darkly at Adelmar. "To arms!" The bishop commands Eadbald. "Stop them!" The Ætheling glances, conflicted, from one man to the other, before his eyes finally settle on his father, the king.

Muireann's fingers tighten on the bowstring, her eyes darting between the king, the priest, and Adelmar. Adelmar. She knew that if she attempted to fire, every man in the room would cut her down without a second thought. She was a savage. Barbarian. Wildling. She'd heard them all since leaving Ireland. She keeps her eyes fixed on the man she'd know as Egon. She's half-temptes to turn the bow on him. He had deceived them. Lied about his true nature, but why? She had a nagging feeling eating away at the back of her mind that there was something more to the man's story. Something that put him at odds with the king. "Egon, what is this? By the gods you will tell me!"

Muireann's words echo dimly in Adelmar's mind -- a storm-battered shutter against the thundering of his rage at seeing that man . Augustine. The pair exchange burning stares. "Why, bishop?" Adelmar says, accusation punctuating his words. "What do you need those children for? Why purchase from slavers?"

"Why?" Augustine remarks in amusement. " Of course , the heathen exile comes to sow satan's seeds of doubt with the question why ? Is it right to purchase these children, you ask? To pay their captors for what they have stolen? To this, I offer a question in return: Is it not our duty to redeem those who are lost? Did our Lord not pay the ultimate price to ransom us from the bondage of sin? The silver that we might offer to these slavers is but a small price in comparison to the immeasurable value of a soul saved, a soul brought from the brink of spiritual death into the eternal life promised by our Saviour." "Consider the words of our Lord in the Gospel according to Matthew: 'Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.' How can we, as His disciples, turn away these little ones when we have the means to bring them into His embrace? It is not the chains of their earthly captivity that bind them most, but the chains of ignorance and unbelief. By purchasing their freedom, we do not endorse the evil of slavery; rather, we undo it. We reclaim what has been unjustly taken, transforming these children from slaves to sons and daughters of God." The longer that Augustine talks, the more the doubt seems to fade from the eyes of the king and his son, to be replaced by the conviction of faith.

Hrothgar had taken to anxiously scratching at an exterior wall while listening for anyone approaching. In the fog and fading light, it was more rattling on his nerves not knowing if, when, or where danger would come. Relief came, however, when shouts arose from the kitchen. In a flash, he charged and found something to his liking: A herd of children shepherded by friends, and a mouthy cook barring the way. The giant man took several quick strides around cooking tables and halted next to the staff. A massive hand clapped the back of the smaller man's neck, and a weight like a bear forced his shoulders to bend, "Friend, we're doing you a favor. See these kids? Do you like feeding them? They're loud and make a mess, then they sneak in a steal your stores. Think of this like taking a burden off your shoulders. You'd like a burden taken off, yes?"  Clearly panicked, the smaller man quickly nods and the weight of Hrothgar's hand releases. "Good to meet people with sense! Now, I'll take a little more burden off your shoulders..."  Hrothgar quickly snatches a knife off a nearby cutting board along with a cleaned parsnip, "One less knife to keep cleaned and sharp."  The small tool was far from the comfort of his mail and weapon, but he was nonetheless forced to leave those behind. A sharp knife was better than a random broomstick he might find lying about.

Goewyn nods to Hrothgar as she and the other children catch up to the scene. "Run, now! Quickly, follow me! Hrothgar, bring up the rear please and make sure none fall behind. I do not know where the others are, but we cannot linger anymore!"  She pushes on up to Gruffyd and starts to run. "You know what to do, Gruffyd! Stay with me and do not let the others falter!"

Adelmar opens his mouth to reply, but lets it hang slightly open as Augustine continues his tirade. He had no words to convince his fellows. That was not his strength. And the conviction in the king's eyes...if this is what he chose, well, Adelmar would be a hypocrite indeed if he attempted to stood in the way. He closes his mouth and lets his head begin to hang, but then he remembers Muireann. She had come looking for him. He would not let her life hang on the tenuous string that his now did. "You've kept up your training, Eadbald, I trust?"  Adelmar says with a casual air that he didn't really feel.  "Good lad." Before the  Ætheling  can react to the strange non sequitur, Adelmar lunches forward with a speed belying his age and pulls  Aelfric's sweord free of its scabbard. The young squire is almost too startled to react as Adelmar puts himself into a guard stance. Giving Eadbald a chance to pull free his own weapon, he spares a hard glance for Muireann.  "Flee this place. NOW! "

Hrothgar looks around for a moment, dumbfounded at the lack of context. "Uh, sure! But what about  the others? Where are they? Calix! Time to go out there!"

Muireann's fingers tighten around the bowstring. If she fled, she'd be no better than these holier-than-thou Christians. But Egon - no, Adelmar - had told her to go. Given permission. But by the gods, she wasn't going to abandon a comrade. She couldn't live with herself. So instead, she draws back an arrow, releasing it to skim just past the ear of the young man Adelmar was squaring up with, in hopes that it would give Adelmar a moment to make his own retreat. "Then flee with me. I will not leave you to face these monsters alone!" The arrow thuds into the wall, the shaft nearly splintering from the force of the impact. 

Disarmed by a warrior of significantly greater skill and experience, Aelfric falls back towards the women, guiding them to safety. Meanwhile, Eadbald answers Adelmar's challenge with a sudden lunge, only to be caught off guard, by the arrow that Muireann sends hurtling past his head. "Enough!" The king bellows over the clamour. "There has been enough discord in this hall tonight, Adelmar. Do not sully it further with bloodshed." Behind him, Augustine begins to pray.

Goewyn shakes her head. “I do not know, Egon came to find you, but never came back. Then Muireann went to find him and never came back. I fear they have been captured. We must get the children out of here!” 

Hrothgar was visibly torn now: Flee with the children, or run blindly to find Egon and Muireann. It was possible they had come out another way, but that was far from the plan. A quiet entrance, a clean rescue, and an equally quiet exit. At a loss for where he'd start to look, he followed Goewyn, "Calix is outside. Go! I'll be right behind you all. We get them to safety, I get a weapon, and we figure out where the others went. You have your brother? Well, I won't accept a trade of two lives for his. We all leave."

Adelmar's breath comes quickly, his hands firm as he holds the sweord out in a warding maneuver. "I agree, your majesty," he says. "I would sooner have my own blood spilt than see you or your family come to harm. You know this." He pauses, and slowly adjusts his stance to a high guard -- sword in both hands, feet shoulder-width apart, left foot forward. "But my comrades must be allowed to leave." 

Muireann's eyes dart between Adelmar and the King, having nocked another arrow, tension in the bowstring. Her eyes end fixated on the king. "We both leave," she says, voice and eyes as frigid as the Irish Sea.

Eadbald harries Adelmar with another quick thrust. However, even as the two skirmish with one another Augustine steps forward and commands Adelmar to " kneel " ... and the power of Christ compels him to do so.

Adelmar drops to a knee, glaring up at the priest. "You secure devotion with compulsion," he says through clenched teeth, straining against Augustine's command. "You are no better than the slavers I escaped from. Worse, in fact, because you claim yourself to be holy." He glances at Muireann again. "Go. I will follow if I can. You must tell the others."

The king glances to Wulfstan and Ecgberht, concern etched across his face. "Seize the girl and search the palace. There may be other intruders."

Muireann hesitates for only a moment. She turns her bow on Augustine, helpless rage marring her face as she draws back and releases another arrow with a scream. The arrow flies past the priest and she can only hope that it was distraction enough to free Adelmar from his clutches. "You will not touch me," she spits at the King, eyes dark. With one final look to Adelmar, she turns, and sprints from the room, tears blurring her vision.

"GO!"  Hrothgar barks from the back of the group. "Run now, or you'll get snatched and beat for trying to run. Stay quiet, stay together now. We'll be out quick if you keep your eyes forward."  Despite his forceful goading, Hrothgar did his best to be gentle with the children. "Someone's coming!"

Goewyn nods to Hrothgar and immediately begins leading the children out of the building and making the most direct line towards the wilderness. There would be no hiding these children, their best option was haste. "Quickly now, run as hard as you can!"

Ecgberht and Wulfstan lead guards away to search the halls for Muireann, issuing rapid instructions as they go. Meanwhile, Eadbald levels his own blade as Adelmar where he kneels. "Drop it," the young man tells him, even as Augustine stalks over to parley. "Adelmar, proud son of the old ways, your defiance is as futile as the wind railing against the stone. You cling to gods who slumber, to relics of a past that crumbles before the unrelenting march of truth. God, the Almighty Creator, is not one of fleeting dominion but of eternal sovereignty. Do you not see how His will has triumphed through the ages, how His light now pierces the darkest corners of your heart? Yield, and you shall find mercy. Resist, and you battle not me, but the very source of existence. You have witnessed His power — not in bloodshed alone, but in the transformation of souls, in the redemption of the fallen and in the unity of nations under His banner. Surrender, not to me, but to Him who calls all to salvation. For God does not demand the death of your spirit but its rebirth. It is not too late to forsake the losing side of this divine conflict. Lay down your pride, and let your chains become wings."

Adelmar places his borrowed blade on the ground. "I bear no chains but the ones that you would see on me, priest," he says. "I do not yield to you, nor your god -- your almighty creator who deigns to let men like you speak and cause suffering in his name. I yield to my king , in the name of the gods of my fathers. I give up my blade just as Freyr gave his up, only to slay his enemies with what the land provided for him. This land will slay you, too,  Augustine."

Augustine watches as Adelmar places the blade down, his expression a mixture of pity and determination. He steps forward, addressing Adelmar's defiance. "You speak of chains, yet you wear the heaviest of all. Chains forged by pride and fear, by stubbornly clinging to a past that has already crumbled into dust. The gods of your forefathers are silent, Adelmar. Not because they slumber, but because they were never gods at all. They are shadows, echoes of man’s desperation, bound to this land that you claim will rise against me. Tell me, if your gods are bound to the land, where will they go when this land becomes Christ’s? When every field and forest echoes with the psalms of His faithful? When the very stones cry out in His glory? Will they protect you then? Will they rise from the soil to carry you to victory? No, Adelmar. Freyr’s blade is gone, his power with it, and what you call his land is already claimed by the One who shaped it. You yield to your king, yet your king will kneel to the King of Kings,  as all kings must . Do you see now? It is not my hand that defeats you, but the will of the Creator. You may hate me, call me a bringer of suffering, but I am merely a messenger. The choice was always yours: bow now, or bow when it is too late. For this land will not slay me, Adelmar. It will sing my God’s praises long after your name is forgotten."

Muireann has only a vague recollection of her path, furiously wiping tears from her eyes to clear her vision as she runs through the halls. She finds her way back to the room that the children had been sleeping in, but it was empty. Stands to reason that Goewyn wouldn't stick around, she muses internally, eyes darting back the way she had come. She did the smart thing. Took advantage of the opening presented by Egon's distraction.... From there, the path back to the kitchens becomes clear. Back the way I came. And don't get caught. Muireann retraces their initial path from the kitchens and goes in search of Goewyn and the children.

Muireann navigates the passages of the king's hall with growing urgency, the sound of pursuit growing ever louder behind her. Boots pound the wooden floors and shouts echo through the corridors. Finally, she slips through shadowed hallways into the warm, smoky embrace of the kitchens.  Ducking through the space and exiting into the chill night air, Muireann spots Hrothgar  across the yard.

Muireann sprints across the yard, catching up to the large man. "They have Egon," she says, not bothering to mention that the man's name is not, in fact, Egon. There wasn't time to answer the questions that would surely arise, and she knew she wasn't the one to answer them. "I barely made it out. They know we came for the children and they're looking for me and suspect that there are others. We need to go now."

Hrothgar's eyes go wide as his concerns are confirmed, "See?! I knew this was too easy! Go....I'll follow to stop any trouble. So help me, if I find a weapon, don't expect to see me anymore; I'll be going to get Egon." Hrothgar motions out the door, giving another look of warning to the kitchen staff to keep quiet about the whole affair.

Adelmar glares at Augustine, remaining defiant, but unable to find the words to refute the man's tirade. Adelmar had never been good with words. Often, he spoke too honestly, too bluntly. Instead, he turns his gaze to the king, his eyes softening for his old friend. "Do you remember, my king, when I first came to your halls? My father's lands taken by the Saxons at Wibbandun, I was alone, without coin or friends.  You took me in. Made me part of your family. You saw me for what I could be. An advisor. A swordsman. A friend. "  He hangs his head. "I only hope that you see this man," Adelmar nods toward Augustine,  "for what he is before it is too late."

Silence hangs in the air following Adelmar's words to his king and Aethelberht rises to speak. "My friend," the king says, his voice grave, "you have been a brother to me, your loyalty beyond question, but times have changed.  I must decide not just for us, but for all who call me king. Know that your words weigh deeply on my heart." Augustine steps forward, his robes swaying with a commanding authority. His voice is firm, but measured, as he addresses the guards stationed nearby. "Take him away," the bishop orders, his gaze locked on Adelmar. "Ensure that he is kept secure until the king has resolved what is to be done. His defiance cannot be left unchecked."

Moving swiftly under cover of night, Goewyn, Muireann and Hrothgar lead the rescued children away from the king's hall. Goewyn guides Gruffyd and his friends through the shadows between the thatched homes of a sleeping Cantwareburh with quiet assurance, eyes scanning the path up ahead. Meanwhile, Hrothgar lingers at the rear, watching for pursuers, ready to delay any threats that might arise. The dirt paths ahead are empty, but the clamour from the hall behind is growing. Time is of the essence. Finally, they arrive on the outskirts, where Hrothgar and 'Egon' had stashed much of their weapons and armour.

Goewyn does not stop, she does not pause, she is like a hound on the scent of a wounded rabbit until they reach the spot. Then, and only then, does she give herself a moment of respite, taking a long drink from a waterskin and offering some to her brother as she allows the children time to recover. "We cannot linger for long, we must be over our way quickly if we are to reach the warband before they catch us. I do not think this Augustine is one that would allow such an offense to go unanswered."

Hrothgar was quick to grab for his mail armour. Once his head popped out and it rested on his shoulders, he began assessing his surroundings, "That's likely, yes. What of Egon, though? We don't know where he is, right? The punishment they have for all of us is all on him now. Do we go back? I don't want to leave him, but it feels like walking face-first into a spear."

Muireann looks between Goewyn and Hrothgar. "Augustine will make an example of him. A warning to those who would worship the old gods of what happens when you defy his Church. The King is under his spell, as is everyone in that court. He'll be imprisoned until whatever punishment the priest would enact is carried out. I intend to save him from that fate. Whether you join me or not is up to you." She looks at Goewyn. "I swore to help you rescue your brother. I have fulfilled that promise. If you must leave, I understand. The lives of these children are important, and they cannot be allowed to fall back into Augustine's clutches. But...if you would offer your aid, I would not say no." 

The sound of wings beating the air reaches Goewyn's ears from behind her and when she turns, a raven appears out of the mist and alights on her shoulder. It opens its mouth and the Norse accent of Kara Olmsdottor can be heard. "We are coming. Where are you? Are you ready?"

Goewyn glances over to Hrothgar and Muireann from the children and winces as Gruffyd comes over as well with a frown etched upon his face, but before she could find the words to consign Egon to his fate a raven appears and lands upon her shoulder. She stands stock still as a voice comes from the beast, one that she had not heard in quite some time; Kara. "I... yes, we are, but one of ours was captured by the Bishop during our escape with the children." She then gives a description of where the group can be located. "How close are you?"

The raven closes its mouth and takes off again, cawing as it flies up and away towards the east.

Goewyn frowns as the bird departs without a response, but as she gathers her things to begin leading the children towards the east Gruffyd approaches her quietly. " Glöyn, you cannot leave your friend there with them." She turns to look at her little brother. "Gruffyd..." She looks around and takes him by the shoulder away from the rest of the group where they have a heated, hushed conversation between the two of them; Goewyn's mounting frustration evident by her gesturing and Gruffyd's stubborn rigidness of his stance as he points between the two of them, the children, and Goewyn's companions. The tension continues to mount as Goewyn grabs hold of Gruffyd's shoulder and pushes him towards the children, but he digs his heels in hard and resists the attempt to move him. "No! I will not go with you if you leave him! Father would never leave a friend!"  He shouts defiantly in her face and the shock of it staggers Goewyn before she cocks her hand back as if to slap him as Gruffyd stands defiantly prepared to accept the blow. There is a moment of silent tension before Goewyn's anger breaks and she yanks her brother into a tearful embrace. They hold each other for a time, crying into each other as they must separate once again after only just reuniting. Goewyn finally breaks the hug as she draws out a seax and hands it to Gruffyd. "You know how to use this. Protect them, follow the bird. Quickly now before you lose it!" She nudges him towards the children and the east before walking over to Muireann and Hrothgar, not looking over her shoulder towards where Gruffyd is gathering the children and hurrying them along. "Let us go, now, before I cannot. "

A big smile splits Hrothar's face, so much his teeth are clear in the night. "Settled, then: we're going back. Let's get mid on our steel; can't have them seeing us coming in the dark."  The huge man immediately falls and starts clawing like some massive badger to take fistfuls of soil, then smears it first on his face and weapons, then across the mm metal of his armour.

Muireann raises an eye at the large man now smearing dirt all over himself. "I am not wearing steel. I will leave the mud where it belongs. On the ground." She turns to look back at the town. "My ability to connect with the spirits are spent. I do not think it wise to attempt a rescue with few resources at our disposal. And very likely the guards and soldiers are still looking. We need to find out where they're keeping Adel---er, Egon," she says, stumbling over her words as his real name nearly comes across her lips. "Once we know that, we can form a plan to rescue him."