Then there was a panic among the cowardly monks. The new King Eadbald refused to become a Christian, and the consequence was that the people returned to the faith of their fathers. The monks declared that, as a sign of divine anger, he was troubled with frequent fits of madness and possessed of an evil spirit. Sebert of Essex also died, and was succeeded by profane sons. They refused baptism, but wanted to eat the sacramental bread, and told Mellitus that if he would not give it to them he must leave London. These events were looked upon as alarming by the monks of Canterbury. They resolved to desert their posts and run away. Mellitus and Justus actually fled into France. Laurentius was about to follow, but ventured first to try a miracle. He had not been accustomed to resort to such practices, like Augustine, but he seems to have thought that a great occasion justified the means. He went to Eadbald, took off his shirt, and exposed some marks of recent stripes on his back. The King was astonished, and asked who had dared to treat so great a man with such indignity. Laurentius gravely replied that St. Peter had come down from heaven and scourged him for his intention of leaving England. Strange to relate, King Eadbald believed the story, abjured the religion of his fathers, and was baptized. Henceforward he promoted the affairs of the Church to the utmost of his power, and the fugitives ventured to return.
Sivel gathered these particulars during his stay at Canterbury, regretting the proceedings of Laurentius. The King's sister was still very young, indeed the dates point to her having been a grand–daughter of Ethelbert. The monks also induced Eadbald to say that it was not lawful for a Christian virgin to marry a Pagan king. He, however, gave Sivel to understand that arrangements might be made which would remove this difficulty, if there was a similar proposal when the Princess Ethelburga was a little older. During the progress of the negotiations, Sivel had been busily engaged in procuring a copy of Ethelbert's laws, and other documents likely to be useful to King Edwin in his administration. As soon as he was ready, he took a friendly leave of Eadbald, and visited Archbishop Laurentius to bid him farewell. Sivel had been grieved to hear of the miracle, and frankly said as much. "The Prior used to resort to those practices," he said, "but you never did." Laurentius replied, "My son, these matters are too high for you. Extreme measures are sometimes needed for the safety of God's Church." The old man was ill at ease. He had been the instructor of Oswith and Sivel, Coelred and Porlor on the Caelian Hill, and they loved him. "Alas!" said Sivel, "you used to tell us that God is truth." Laurentius bowed his head in shame. Sivel said, "My dear old master!" and put his hand affectionately on the Archbishop's shoulder. "Will you take my blessing?" asked the old man. "Thankfully," cried his former pupil, as he threw himself on his knees. It was a sad leave–taking. A month had not passed before Laurentius was no more. He was succeeded by Mellitus, who suffered a good deal from the gout. It carried him off in April 624, and Justus became Archbishop.
Sivel returned to York with an account of the results of his mission, and was occupied for the next five years in assisting and advising Edwin concerning administrative measures of various kinds. In 624 Edwin again sent his trusted minister to Canterbury to ask for the hand of Ethelburga. He was instructed to assure Eadbald that the Princess and all her attendants would have leave to follow their faith and to worship after the customs of Christians. He was even to hold out hopes that, if Edwin was convinced that Christianity was more holy and worthy of God than the religion of his fathers, he might embrace the new belief. This time no objection was made. Eadbald promised that the Princess Ethelburga should be sent to Edwin. But Sivel found that Paulinus, the very man who played the trick at Sleaford, which was exposed by Forthere, was to accompany the bride. Paulinus was ordained a bishop by Justus before starting, on 21st July 625. He is described as having been a tall man with a stooping gait, black hair, a meagre visage, and nose slender and aquiline. James the Deacon was also to accompany Ethelburga, a zealous and devoted missionary, untainted with personal cowardice or timidity, and not addicted to tricks. When Paulinus deserted his post in the hour of danger, James remained and braved the storm. By the advice of Justus, the Pope Boniface IV. wrote a letter to King Edwin urging him to become a Christian, accompanied by a present of a shirt with one gold ornament, and a garment of Ancyra. Ethelburga received a silver looking–glass and a gilt ivory comb as papal gifts.
Sivel took his leave of Eadbald and rode with all speed to Aldby to announce the success of his mission. It was considered right that, as Paulinus was coming as bishop, the King should be informed by Forthere of the trick that had been played upon him by that holy person at Sleaford. Ethelburga came by sea, and was met by Coelred with a fleet of armed vessels to escort her up the Humber and the Ouse. The King was at York, where they were married, and then went to Aldby. The Kentish Princess was handsome, with a serious expression, and was very silent. She was surnamed "Tate." She received the admonitions and orders of Paulinus with great humility, but at the same time she was devoted to her husband.
After about a year had passed away since the marriage, the arrival of an embassy from Wessex was announced to Edwin. To the general surprise, the envoy was no less a person than Eumer, the truculent thegn who, with Cuichelm, acted such a treacherous part at the battle of Bampton. Edwin ordered him to be treated with hospitality, and announced his intention of receiving him in audience on the following day. He supposed that Eumer came to give some plausible explanation of his master's conduct, and to offer amends. The King took his seat in the great hall at Aldby, with his thegns on either side of him, unarmed except with the seax, or long knife, worn at the girdle on the right side. Eumer was introduced, made a low obeisance, advanced up the hall, and came close to the King. He put his hand into his breast as if to draw out something to present. Suddenly a long dagger was flashing over his head and descending like lightning. But devoted love is ever vigilant, and even quicker than lightning. Lilla had flung himself between the King's breast and the dagger. The stroke descended with tremendous force, passed right through Lilla, and slightly wounded Edwin. In another instant the assassin had turned and plunged his dagger into the body of Forthere, who was rushing forward. The vile wretch was then cut down, and almost hacked to pieces.
Lilla and Forthere were dead, the two brave and most loyal paladins. Never did king have truer and more faithful servants, never were there more constant and unchanging friends. Bitter rage was mingled with the intense grief of the Deirans, from the King downwards. Lost in their prime, and in an instant! Such sorrow as is felt by men who have shared every hope and every joy, almost every thought, with the lost ones cannot be described. After the first agony was passed, Coelred and Porlor saw most vividly the stalwart little Oswith ready to wrestle with them on the green at Hemingborough, and the brave boy Forthere sinking exhausted from running and swimming, in the court at Stillingfleet. Then the whole array of gallant deeds and warm–hearted thoughts of their beloved comrades came one after the other to their minds and overwhelmed them with grief. Next followed a stupor, replaced by more sad reminiscences. The grief of Bergliot was heart–breaking, and Sivel could not be separated from the body of his beloved Forthere. Godric too had lost one who had been to him more than a brother, and Bassus was inconsolable, and went about with a settled sternness on his handsome features.
LILLA SAVES THE KING'S LIFE