There he found Erpwald himself close at hand, sitting in my father's own chair while the wound that Owen himself had given him was being dressed. At the side of the great room sat the rest of our men, downcast and wondering, and half a dozen of the foe stood on guard at the door. It was plain that nought in the house was to be meddled with.
Erpwald turned as he heard the sliding door open.
"Get you gone as soon as you may," he said sullenly.
"There is one thing that I must ask you, Erpwald," Owen said. "It is what one may ask of one brave man concerning another. Let Aldred's people bury him in all honour, as they will."
"There you ask too much, Welshman. But I will bury him myself in all honour in the way that I think best. He shall have the burial of a son of Woden for all his foolishness."
At least, there would be no dishonour to his friend in that, and Owen thought it best to say no more, but he had one more boon, as it were, to ask.
"Let me take a horse from the stable for the child," he said. "We may have far to go."
He thought that he would have been met with rage at this, but it was worth asking. However, Erpwald answered somewhat wearily, and not looking at him:
"Take them all, if you will. I am no common reiver, and they are not mine. The farther you go the better. But let me tell you, that it will be safer for you not to make for Winchester and the king. I shall have you watched."
"A plain warning not to be disregarded," answered Owen. "We shall not need it."