“Now we will go to Adiva,” said Denewulf, “and then, child, thou must begin to prepare for the ordeal. Since thou hast demanded it, God alone can judge thee.”
“To His hands gladly do I commend the matter,” answered Egwina. “Man’s judgment is fallible, God’s infallible.”
“Then in thy hands do I leave the maiden,” said the ealdorman, withdrawing.
Adiva greeted her with joy, but became saddened as she told her story.
“Must thy pretty arm be plunged into the water?” she cried, indignantly. “Denewulf, be thou bishop and permit it?”
“She hath appealed to God,” answered Denewulf. “Not even the king could prevent the ordeal from taking place now, though I will lay the matter before him if Egwina so wills.”
“Nay, do not so,” cried Egwina. “Do ye not see, good friends, I wish not Edward to know where I am. The king would be displeased with me for calling upon him. He likes not that Edward looks on me with—” She faltered, blushing.
“With favor,” supplemented Adiva. “Dear heart, little one, how could he help it? I knew not that the king would turn from thee because thou wert not gentle. I own that somewhat hath he grieved me in this, but alack! even Alfred, wise and good as he is, hath, mayhap, too much pride.”
“Nay, nay, Adiva,” chid Egwina. “Say naught against the king. Kind and tender to me always hath he been. Seest thou not that Edward may be chosen of the witan to be cyning some day?—and great will he be, too great for the husband of a simple girl such as I.”
Adiva shook her head, and began caressing her, when Denewulf interrupted.