CHAPTER THREE

James awoke the following morning and for a few moments was somewhat disconcerted. He had no idea where he was. He drew the curtain enclosing the box bed and looked across the room whose floor was covered with a large bearskin rug. Then last night came back to him; his walk to the bath-house with Helen and the amazing nudes mixed bathing which he joined in, all apparently very normal and innocent. Then the huge supper with plentiful steaks of venison and seemingly endless tankards of ale which, however, did not appear to have done his head any ache. He was introduced to the rest of the household; the mother, still attractive with her youthful plumpish figure and catching laughter, an elder brother and a younger too and several other figures of the household retinue, for James concluded that although probably there was not too much difference between rich and poor in Dunara he had definitely come across the richer part of the social stratum in his host and family.

James found much of the conversation difficult to catch for the accent spoken was often filled with unfamiliar vowel sounds and vernacular expressions which he had only come across in the writings of Chaucer and Langland which he had studied at school. Anyway, he would pick up more of what people spoke if he stayed here longer. He always was rather good at languages.

The patriarch, whose name was Wulfstan, entered the bedchamber.

“Have you slept well? I’m certain you have after drinking my daughter’s mead. It is well known throughout Dunara,” he chuckled.

‘Thank you, Sir,” answered James.

“Call me Wulfstan,” said the patriarch. “Look, you have quite a busy day ahead of you today. I realise you have many questions to ask us which you, a guest, politely refrained from asking yesterday evening in the confusion of my household’s evening repast.”

“Indeed I have,” asserted James.

“Well, today we shall try to explain to you why we have asked you to come to Dunara. There will be a meeting of elders at our assembly hall when the sun has risen to its morning mid-point. You will accompany me to that meeting. But before then the tailor has come to fit you with garments more seemly for a person of our rank.”

The new clothes were ready and measured within one hour. James donned an elegant woollen garment, embroidered at the cuffs and the collar in rich colours. Comfortable wooden clogs were also shaped for his feet by the cobbler and, to cap it all, a fine satin beret-like hat with the decoration of an iridescent pheasant tail feather.

Wulfstan and James set out for the meeting at the assembly hall followed by three retainers. The street led steeply up to a knoll upon which a flamboyant stone building was perched, its vaulted dormer windows gaily festooned with the flags of the port’s various mercantile associations and guilds. Now few people looked at James, contrary to his initial entry into Dunara. With his elegant robes and perky hat he looked indistinguishable from any other rich merchant’s family member. Only his somewhat unfamiliar intonation when speaking would have given him away as a stranger both in place and time.

The great assembly-hall with its massive oak hammer-head roof was already filled with representatives of the various guilds, each one resplendent in elaborate robes. The sunlight filtered in multicoloured rays through the stained glass windows enclosing the hall’s clerestory. At one end a raised dais, topped by a draperied throne was positioned, as yet still unencumbered by the presence of the port’s chieftain.

James took his place on a bench by Wulfstan who introduced him to those companions immediately seated around him.

“All rise for the entry of our beloved chieftain Elremond,” proclaimed the herald’s booming voice. As he put a silver trumpet to his mouth the gaunt figure of Elremond shuffled across from a side door to take his place on the throne. He rose to respectfully greet and bow Elremond’s august presence.

Straightway the proceedings began and Elremond began speaking in a weakened but still penetrating voice:

“You all know why you are gathered here this morning at an extraordinary meeting of our town council. My brother, my misguided brother has fled from the confines of his imprisonment after bribing some in whom we had placed our highest trust. He has betaken himself to an adjoining region, to the island of Mersea and there he conspires to wage war against us and our beloved town. He has allied himself with the Norsemen from across the Great Sea. This we know in full details from our spies who have ever supported our trade and our cause. The future of all our citizens is at peril. Our fair town, our way of life, our times of happiness and contentment, our wives and children, these, these all are threatened by the evil Mortan is preparing against them. We must fight this evil. We must stop it before it spreads like a canker throughout our fair regions of villages and sheep farms, trading towns and mercantile ports.”

A murmur of assent rose up from the congregation. Elremond continued: “You know well that in the chronicle of our patron saint, Edmund, it’s written that in a time of peril such as this a simple man, unadorned except for a black leather jerkin and black leather leggings shall arise from the headland of Penance over yonder.” ·

Here Elremond pointed in the direction of where James had first been awakened by Helen’s silhouette only yesterday. James had a vertigo-inducing feeling that he might, indeed be the simple man Elremond had referred to. If he only knew!

“I am glad to say,” continued the chieftain, “that the Fool has indeed come among us and been found by Helen, daughter of Wulfstan.”

James’ worst fears were now, all too soon, confirmed.

“He is there among us. Rise young man and come before this assembly.”

“Come on James, do what Elremond asks you. Let all see you.”

James blushed as he stepped forward before the assembly. What did they want of him? Surely it was all a monumental misunderstanding? He had escaped to what? Anything, anything to have stayed in that dark forest among those endless rows of pines.

Sheepishly, James came forward, stepped up the dais and turned towards the staring assembly.

“James, for that is your name as I gather’, began Elremond, “you do not know why you have come to be here. The fact is you do not have to know. You are merely an instrument of destiny which has ordained all things for countless generations before your birth. Neither do you need to explain your presence nor do you have to imagine what is requested of you. Yourself is all. This may seem a great mystery to you at present but destiny shall explain all things to all men if they have but the patience to stand and wait.”

James bowed to all present. A hearty applause rang round the great stone chamber, barely muffled by the courtly tapestries which covered the Gothic panelling. As James gazed upon their themes of knights in search of impossible quests of ladies with unicorns in forests of strange fruits he felt both even more confused and even more resigned to the unexpected situation in which he now found himself. “Destiny”, he echoed to himself.