Wulfric the Weapon Thane by Charles W. Whistler (ebook reader online .TXT) 📖

hove; Willingly women, The jewel wearers, Golden and silver gauds Gave for the melting; And a great anchor The seamen added. Thus was a wealth Of wondrous metal. When all was molten More grew its marvel! Cast in a chalice, Cuthred the priest."

"Aye, Father," said I, "that is a wondrous bell."

He nodded, and went on, with his eyes fixed on the monastery.

"Thus as the bell swings Soothly it speaketh: Churchward it calleth With voice of the chalice, Speaking to shipmen With voice that is sea born. Homeward the husband Hailing with voices Fresh from the fireside, Where flashed the gold gifts-- Clashing the war call, Clear with its warrior voice."

"That was the voice of the bell that sounded as we came," I thought; and even as I would have said it, the bell of Bosham spoke again, and the prior stopped with an exclamation, and pointed.

Out of the gateway came four Danes, bearing the bell between them, and as they crossed the threshold, one stumbled, and the bell clanged as they dropped it on the courtyard pavement. The tears ran down the holy man's face as he saw this mishap to his beloved bell, which was kept bright as when it was first founded, by the loving hands of his people.

Now the Danes put it on that farm cart I had seen, and which they had mended, and took the bell down to the wharf, and we watched them sling it to the crane they had rigged, and place it amidships on deck. Then they all went hastily on board, and put out into the haven, down which Halfden's ship was already a mile distant, and dancing on the quick waves of wind against tide where the waters broadened into a wide lake.

Now when the ship was fairly under way, the prior rose up from beside me, and lifting his hand, cursed ship and crew with so great and bitter a curse that I trembled and looked to see the ship founder at once, so terrible were his words.

Yet the ship held on her course, and the words seemed vain and wasted, though I know not so certainly that they were so. For this is what I saw when the ship met the waves of that wider stretch of water that Halfden had now crossed.

She pitched sharply, and there was a bright gleam of sunlight from the great bell's polished sides, and then another--and the ship listed over to starboard and a wave curled in foam over her gunwale. Then she righted again quickly, and as though relieved of some weight, yet when a heavier, crested roller came on her she rose to it hardly at all, and it broke on board her. And at that she sank like a stone, and I could hear the yell that her men gave come down the wind to me.

Then all the water was dotted with men for a little, and the bright red and white of her sail floated on the waves for a minute, and then all that was left of her were the masthead and yard--and on them a few men. The rest were gone, for they were in their mail, and might not swim. Only a few yet clung to floating oars and the like.

"Little have these heathen gained from Bosham," said the prior, and his eyes flashed with triumph. "Wilfrith the holy has punished their ill doing."

So, too, it seemed to me, and I thought to myself that the weight of that awesome curse had indeed fallen on the robbers.

Yet I know that, as I watched the ship in her trouble, in my own mind I had been going over what was amiss, as any seaman will, without thought of powers above. And I thought that the sharp pitching of the vessel had cast the great bell from amidships, where I had seen the Danes place it unsecured, against the frail gunwale, first to one side, and then, with greater force yet, against the other; so that it burst open gunwale and planking below, and already she was filling when the wave came and ended all. For these swift viking ships are built to take no heavy cargo, and planks and timbers are but bound together by roots and withies; so that as one stands on the deck one may feel it give and spring to the blow of a wave, and the ship is all the swifter. But though the outer planking is closely riveted together with good iron, that could not withstand the crashing weight of so great a bell when it was thus flung against it.

However that may have been--and thus I surely think it was--Bosham bell passed not into the power of the heathen, but destroyed them; and it lies at the bottom of the deepest reach of the haven whence the depth and swiftness of the tide will hardly let men bring it again. So I suppose that, profaned by heathen hands, it may no longer call men from across the water and woodland to the church of God.

Soon came the boats from Halfden's ship and picked up those who yet clung to what they might of the wreck, and then ship and Danes passed from Bosham haven, leaving the silent tower and burning village to mark where they had been.

Then the prior sighed, and turning away, said:

"Let us go to Chichester and find shelter. Night comes soon, and rest."

Sadly enough we went, though not for long: for when we came into the roadway from the forest land, the prior put his heavy thoughts aside, and spoke cheerfully to me.

"What is done is done; and but for you, my son, things would have been worse. And their greed for the bell has made them spare the church itself. Surely you must have fallen from the clouds to help us--borne hither from the East Anglian land whose tongue bewrays you."

"I marvel that you trusted me," I said.

"I trusted your face, my son, and when one is in a hard case the first help is ever the best. Yet now I would fain know somewhat of my good comrade."

Now I think that to any but this monk, with his friendly smile and way of quiet authority, I should have been ashamed to own my part with the Danes. But a few hours of companionship in danger knit closer than many a long day of idleness together, and he seemed to me as a near friend. Moreover, he had trusted me without question; so I told him all my tale and he listened patiently.

"Now I am glad that I cursed not your friend's ship--for I forgot her," he said, smiling.

At that I was glad, for how he would hold my being with the heathen I somewhat doubted, and I told him so.

"Why, my son, I know not that you had much choice. And as for fighting against outlanders--let me heft that axe of yours."

He took it, and it fell into his hands in a way that told me that he, too, had been a stark fighting man at some time.

"Take it away, my son, take it away!" he cried, thrusting it back on me; "I am not the man to blame you. And I know that much good has come to us from your being with them. And from your talk about martyrs I know that you have done no honour to their gods."

I said truly that the question had never come into my mind. For, save as oath or war cry, the names of Thor and Odin were not heard. They sacrificed on going to sea, and on return; and meanwhile cared naught, so far as I knew, for none had questioned my faith.

He said it was well, and so talking we went on. And he said that, as friend of his, none would question me, so that I should find all I needed for my journey in the town. And when we came there--meeting the sheriff's ill-armed levy on the way--we went to the house of a great thane, and there were well and kindly received.

Yet once and again as I slept I dreamed and woke with the cry of Rorik's men in my ears, and before me the bell seemed to flash again as it crashed through the ship's side. And once I woke thinking that the smell of burning was round me, and felt, half awake, for the stone walls of the well chamber. But at last I slept soundly and peacefully.


CHAPTER V. HOW WULFRIC, LODBROK, AND BEORN HUNTED.

When morning came it was great wonder and joy to me to wake and find myself in England and free, for indeed I had begun to think of my comradeship with the Danes as a sort of thralldom that I knew not how to break. And now I longed to make my way back to Reedham as soon as I might, for I had been many weeks away, though I have said little of all that befell in that time beyond what was needful. One thing saved me from grief that might have been, and that was the knowledge that Ingild, the merchant, had not been told to look for my coming, and that none at home would wonder if I were long away, because of that plan of wintering our ship in the Thames. And I knew that not one of my poor crew could have lived to take news of the wreck.

That I must take back myself; and though I could not fairly be blamed for loss of ship and crew, the thought of having to break the tidings to those who would mourn for their lost ones was very hard to me. But it must be done, and there was an end.

Now came to me, as I thought of these things, my friend the Prior of Bosham, and he sat down beside me and asked how he could further my plans. He himself must go to Selsea, there to see the bishop and tell him all, not forgetting my part, as he said.

I told him that I only needed a horse, and that then I should ride to London, where I had friends: and he asked me if I had money wherewith to buy one, for he had none, else would he gladly do so for me. And that reminded me of the bag which Halfden gave me, and I opened it.

It was full of treasure--gold ornaments, and chains wherein were set precious stones, and some gold coins and silver, and these were the least value of all. But little pleasure had I in them, for I knew too well how they came, and a thought came to me.

"Father," I said, "this comes from ruined towns on yonder shore--take it and build up Bosham again. Aye, take it."

"Why, my son, here is treasure enough to build three villages like ours," he said quietly; "for timber houses cost but labour in this forest land, and there was naught else worth taking in the place."

"But your people are the poorer," I said; "I pray you take it for their need, and for a new bell, moreover."

And so I urged him till he took the greatest gold chain, saying that in honesty he could no more, for that would surely make Bosham wish for more burnings if they turned out as this.

"Keep the rest and buy a new ship," he said, "and forget not that always and every day your