However, all that was good hearing to us, and I went to see what horses had returned.  It was plain that Witred’s plan had worked well, for only those which the ladies had ridden, the pack horses, and our own had been brought back.  The young king’s steeds were both in the stable where Offa’s own white chargers were kept.

Somewhat late the breakfast call sounded, and I went back to the hall, not by any means wishing to seem put out by the flight of the Anglian party, as Carl’s messenger.  Erling sat where I could see him, below the salt; and I went to my own place on the dais, as before.  There were not many thanes present at first, and Offa never appeared at all; and the meal was silent, and carelessly ordered, for the whole course of the great household had been set awry by the word of heavy rumour which had flown from man to man.

As the time went on a few more thanes came in and sat them down with few words, and those curt, and mostly of question as to where such and such a friend was.  And soon it grew plain that man by man the guests of Offa were leaving him and the palace.

Maybe that was mostly because there had come an end of that for which they had gathered, but there were words spoken which told me that many who might have stayed left because of the shame of the deed which had been wrought.  The great name of Offa was no cloak for that.  Few spoke to me as I sat and ate, though many seemed as if they would like to do so but were ashamed.  Those who did speak were only anxious to tell me that their king was surely blameless; that it was some private matter of feud—­surely some Welsh treachery or the like; but no man so much as named Quendritha, whether in blame or in excuse.

Presently there came up the hall quietly one of the young thanes, boys of fifteen or less, who were pages to the king and queen; and he sat himself down not far from me below the high place, where they had their seats.  I noticed him because he was the only one of the half-dozen or so who came to that breakfast at all, and also because he seemed to look somewhat carefully at me.  As I still wore my Frankish dress I was used to that, and only smiled at him, and nodded a good morrow.

Presently two men near me rose and went, and as they did so the boy rose also, and taking a loaf from his table handed it to me gravely.

“Paladin,” he said, “I think you need this.”

He was a little below me, of course, and I bent to take it.  He had both hands to the loaf, and with one he gave me it, and from the other dropped something small into my palm at the same time, so that the bread covered it there.  I thanked the lad, and while he watched me eagerly, looked at that which he had hidden in my hand.  It was that little arrowhead which I had given Hilda, and which I had bidden her send me if she was in danger or in anywise sought my help.

Somehow I kept my countenance when I saw that.  I suppose it was because I knew that the need must be great when Hilda sent the token, and that no doubt the queen had her spies everywhere on me; but what thoughts went through my mind I can hardly set down.  Fear for Hilda in ways that I could not fathom, and wonder as to how I was to help her, were the uppermost.  I halved the loaf with my dagger, and handed the half back to the boy, who came close to the edge of the dais again for it.