London - Edward Rutherfurd [79]
And – this was the message of the bishop that day – if Christ could lay down His life for men, how much more should they be ready to sacrifice themselves, to be reconciled one with another, in order to be worthy of Him? “There is no place for unkindness, for obstinacy, for ill will amongst us,” he said. “If you have quarrelled with your neighbour, your servant or your wife, go now and make amends. Forgive them and beg their pardon in turn. Do not think of yourself. Be ready to sacrifice your own desires. For the Lord has promised us, He will protect us, He will lead us through even the darkness of death so long, only, as we believe in His name.” And in the manner of the Anglo-Saxon poetry that was its inspiration, he ended his sermon resoundingly:
High on the hill in sight of heaven,
Our Lord was led and lifted up.
That willing warrior came while the world wept;
And a terrible shadow shaded the sun.
For us He was broken and gave us His blood
King of all creation Christ on the Rood.
For a moment the little crowd, spellbound, was silent. Then there was a gentle murmur almost like a sigh. The Roman priest had touched them.
Offa stared in wonder. Those words about reconciliation and forgiveness – didn’t they refer to Cerdic and his wife? As for the rest, the promise of heaven, the demand for sacrifice, to his astonishment it seemed to the young fellow that in some way he did not yet understand, they were meant for him. Flushed with emotion, still half trembling, he stayed there until the service was over.
Now the bishop led his flock to be baptized, not, this time, to the Fleet outside the wall, but to the little brook that ran down between the city’s two hills. They were all invited to come forward, and under Cerdic’s stern eye his entire household did so. Offa and Ricola and even the rather puzzled northern slaves stepped into the little stream, watched with satisfaction by those already dripping from this brief ordeal. Cerdic, his sons and the noblemen from Kent, already Christian, looked on with a sense of duty performed.
It was at the very end of this process that Cerdic’s stern look fell upon Elfgiva.
In truth, she was not at this moment sure what she wished to do, for like Offa, and despite all her resistance, she had found herself strangely touched. The bishop, though he did not know it, had spoken directly to her heart. Was there really a hope greater than that offered by the bleak, harsh gods of her Nordic heritage? Was it possible that the great destiny behind the skies might be suffused with a love that could comfort sufferers such as she? Had she been alone, had Cerdic not been watching her, she might have stepped forward with the rest. But his eyes were upon her, hard and unyielding as ever. She hesitated. All he wants, she thought, is surrender.
Bishop Mellitus was coming up from the stream now, straight towards her. He glanced up, saw her hesitation, saw her husband’s grim face and, remembering the unhappy scene he had witnessed between them some weeks before, went quietly to her side and beckoned Cerdic to him.
“You wish to be baptized?” he gently enquired of Elfgiva.
“My husband wishes it.”
Mellitus smiled, then turning to Cerdic he announced: “I shall baptize your wife, my friend, when she comes to me with a good heart. When she desires it – as I hope she will – and not before.” With more firmness, he added: “You must show Christian charity, Cerdic. Then she will obey you willingly.”
And hoping that by this show of understanding he might have improved things between them, he turned back to his duties.
Cerdic begged Mellitus to rest at Lundenwic until the next day, but although it was the Sabbath, the bishop was anxious to continue on his way. “Some of the brethren await us in Essex tonight,” he explained. “A good ride from here.” Soon afterwards, he and his party were riding across the city, taking the track that led to the eastern gate. Meanwhile, Cerdic and the others slowly made their way back along the pathway to Lundenwic, with Offa bringing up the rear.
Towards evening it grew