"What—what—sweetheart?" said he.
"It is mine own brew that thou lovest so well," Cynerith replied. She waited while he drank, and noted how the potion increased his drowsiness.
"Husband," she whispered, "I have sure proof that it is even as I guessed. He will go hence upon the morrow, leaving us pledges which he hath no mind to fulfil. Then will he stir up the men of his own kingdom, without doubt, hoping to take thee defenceless in thine old age. The hour is ripe, Offa my King! Shall he live to work our undoing?"
"I shall be nithing in the eyes of all men," murmured Offa.
"Lo, no man shall know how the end did come about," said the Queen. "I, thy wife, will be thy handmaid in this as in all things, aye, and bear the blame, if blame be to follow. Trust in me. O son of Woden, it profiteth not a man to spare his enemies. Hereafter shall thy sway reach from the hills of Wales even unto the eastern sea."
And Offa nodded his head.
She took another cup in her hand, and beckoned to Ethelbert, who rose to meet her midmost in the hall.
"We will talk together of the wedding day," said she. "The King leaves all such business unto me." Then they drank to one another, very gravely, where they stood.
Eadburh, sitting by her sister, nudged her, with sneering lips.
"Let us now to bed, children," cried Cynerith.