A chill silence settled between them. When Wilfrid eventually spoke, a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Ever since I returned to the north, you’ve made my life here a trial … sire.” The words were ground out, the title at the end uttered almost like a curse.
Aldfrith cocked his head. He was not in the mood to be criticized by the likes of Wilfrid. “All I’ve done is look after the interests of this kingdom,” he replied, “and if that means tempering your ambitions, then so be it.”
“You need a man like me here,” Wilfrid shot back, undeterred. “A man who has lived in Rome, who has studied under the Pope himself. Instead, you have obstructed me at every turn. You denied me Hagustaldes, and now Lindisfarena. The Pope shall hear of this.”
Aldfrith went still. “I have been generous and lenient with you, Father Wilfrid,” he said, his voice chill, “overly so.”
The bishop stared back at him, determined not to back down. “The Pope shall hear differently. He shall hear the truth.”
Aldfrith leaned toward him, holding his gaze. “I care not what you have to say to the Pope. He’s in Rome, and we are a world away. This is Northumbria, and here, I rule.”
The bishop blanched. “That is blasphemy.”
Aldfrith set down his cup with a thump. “My patience with you is at an end. I suggest you gather your servants and depart for Inhrypum this afternoon.”
Wilfrid gaped at him, his outrage faltering. “You’re sending me away?”
“Aye … and if you test me again, I’ll send you much farther than Inhrypum. I now understand why my brother was so keen to send you into exile. You push too hard, Wilfrid. Learn your place, or someone will teach it to you.”
Aldfrith rose from the table, signaling that the conversation had come to an end. Around them, the others who had been enjoying a cup of ale after the noon meal had all gone silent, their gazes watchful. Cerdic was among them, his expression hooded.
Not acknowledging any of them, Aldfrith turned his focus back to the bishop once more. “Be gone from Bebbanburg by dusk,” he said, his voice flat and cold. “Or I’ll have you chased out.”
Cerdic caught up with Aldfrith as he crossed the stable yard. “You’ve vexed the bishop. The man’s just taken a rod to one of his servants for packing his trunk too slowly.”
“Just as long as he’s gone from here before dusk,” Aldfrith growled back. “He tries my patience.”
“For what it’s worth, you should have done that months ago, sire.”
Aldfrith halted, his gaze sweeping to Cerdic.
The warrior grinned at him, not remotely cowed by the king’s wintry expression. “It’s rare to see you so riled, sire. Has Wilfrid really gotten under your skin so?”
Aldfrith loosed a breath. “The bishop has been a thorn in my arse ever since I arrived at Bebbanburg … but you’re right … it’s not just him.”
Cerdic’s gaze widened. “Sire?”
“It’s life,” Aldfrith replied shortly. “Sometimes it feels as if I wear a millstone around my neck.” He turned then and continued on his way to the stables. He needed to be free of this fortress for a while. He would saddle his horse and go for a ride along the beach; perhaps the sea air would sweeten his mood. Cerdic was right, anger burned within him this afternoon, and it took little for the flames to kindle.
He entered the stables, a low-slung building with two rows of stalls and a wide aisle between them. His stallion was stabled at the far end. Aldfrith had almost reached his destination when he realized that Cerdic was right behind him.
“I’m ill company today,” he said, not looking over at the warrior. “Best you leave me.”
“Do you wish for your old life, sire?” Cerdic asked. “Would you go back to Iona, if you could?”
Aldfrith halted and turned. Cerdic had stopped a few feet back and was watching him, his expression shadowed, for it was dimly lit inside the stables.
“No,” Aldfrith answered, surprising himself when he realized it was the truth. “I was a different man … and I can’t go back to that life.”
“What then?”
Aldfrith frowned. “Cerdic … you’re trying my patience.”
“What would it take then,” Cerdic pressed, ignoring the warning, “for you to find peace?”
Aldfrith tensed, irritation surging. “I don’t know. I don’t have the answers for anything anymore.”
Cerdic gave a wry smile, folding his arms across his chest. “I was wondering when you’d realize that.”
