King Alfred's Viking by Charles W. Whistler (best way to read an ebook .txt) 📖

a creek there is at Bridgwater, where Heregar, the king's standard bearer, was sheriff. He made me very welcome at his great house near by, at Cannington, and then rode with me to Bristol; and there I set two ships in frame, and so ended all I could do for the winter. King Alfred would have a fleet when the spring came.

Then Heregar and I would go to Chippenham, to spend the time of the Yule feast with King Alfred; and we rode there with Harek and Kolgrim, and were made most welcome. Many friends whom I had made at Exeter were there, and among them, quiet and yet hopeful of release, were the hostages.

That was a wonderful Yule to me; but I will say little of it, for the tale of the most terrible Twelfth Night that England has ever known overshadows it all, though there were things that I learned at that time, sitting in the church with Harek, at the west end, and listening, that are bright to me. But they are things by themselves, and apart from all else.

Now peace was on all the land, and the frost and snow were bright and sharp everywhere; so that men said that it was a hard winter, and complained of the cold which seemed nothing to us Northmen. Maybe there was a foot of snow in deep places, and the ice was six inches thick on the waters; and the Saxons wondered thereat, saying that they minded the like in such and such years before. Then I would tell them tales of the cold north to warm them, but I think they hardly believed me.

The town was full of thanes and their families who had been called to Alfred's Yule keeping, and it was very bright and pleasant among them all, though here and there burnt ruins made gaps between the houses, minding one that the Danes had held the place not so long since.

So they kept high feasting for Yule and the New Year, and the last great feast was for Twelfth Night, and all were bidden for that, and there was much pleasant talk of what revels should be in the evening.

The day broke very bright and fair, with a keen, windless frost that made the snow crisp and pleasant to ride over, hindering one in no way. And there was the sun shining over all in a way that made the cold seem nought to me, so that I had known nothing more pleasant than this English winter, having seen as yet nothing of the wet and cold times that come more often than such as this. Then, too, the clear ringing of the bells from every village near and far was new to me, and I thought I had heard nothing sweeter than the English call to the church for high festival {x}.

So I went to the king, and asked him if I might take with me the Danish jarl for a ride beyond the town; for the hostages were only free inside the walls, and I knew this would please Osmund and Thora well. I said that I would see to his safety and be answerable for him.

"This must be Osmund, I suppose," the king said, smiling. "I have heard how you came to know him and his fair daughter at Wareham. It was well done, though maybe I should blame you for running over-much risk."

"I think I ran little, lord king," I said; "and I could have done no less for the poor maiden."

"Surely; but I meant that to go at all was over dangerous."

"I am ready to do the same again for you, my king," I said. "And after all I was in no danger."

Then said the king, smiling gravely at me:

"Greater often are the dangers one sees not than those which one has to meet. I have my own thoughts of what risk you ran.

"Well, take your fair lady and the jarl also where you will. But the feast is set for two hours after noon, and all must be there."

So I thanked him, and he bade me ask his steward for horses if I would, and I went straight to Osmund from his presence.

"I think it will be a more pleasant ride than our last," said Thora. "Yet that is one that I shall not forget."

Then I tried to say that I hoped she did not regret it either, but I minded me of the loved nurse she had to leave, and was silent in time. Yet I thought that she meant nothing of sorrow in the remembrance as she spoke.

We called out my two comrades, for Osmund liked them well, and rode away northward, that the keen air might be behind us as we returned. That was all the chance that led us that way, and it was well that we were so led, as things turned out.

The white downs and woodlands sparkling with frost were very beautiful as we rode, and we went fast and joyously in the fresh air; but the countryside was almost deserted, for the farmsteads were burned when the Danes broke in on the land last spring, and few were built up as yet. The poor folk were in the town now, for the most part, finding empty houses enough to shelter them, and none left to whom they belonged.

Now we rode for twelve miles or so, and then won to a hilltop which we had set as our turning place. I longed to stand there and look out over all this country, that seemed so fair after the rugged northern lands I had known all my life. But when we were there we saw a farmstead just below us, on the far slope of the gentle hill; and we thought it well to go there and dismount, and maybe find some food for ourselves and the horses before turning back.

So we went on. It was but a couple of furlongs distant, and the buildings lay to the right of the road, up a tree-shaded lane of their own.

We turned into this, and before we had gone ten yards along it I halted suddenly. I had seen somewhat that seemed strange, and unmeet for the lady to set eyes on.

"Bide here, jarl," I said, "and let us go on and see what is here; the place looks deserted."

And I looked meaningly at him, glancing at Thora.

But he had seen what had caught my eye, and he stayed at once, turning back into the main road, and beckoning Harek to come with him and Thora, for some reason of his own.

Then Kolgrim and I went on. What we had seen was a man lying motionless by the farm gate, in a way that was plain enough to me. And when we came near, we knew that the man had been slain. He was a farm thrall, and he had a pitchfork in his hand, the shaft of which was half cut through, as with a sword stroke that he had warded from him, though he had not stayed a second cut, for so he was killed.

"Here is somewhat strangely wrong," I said.

"Outlaws' work," answered Kolgrim; for the wartime had made the masterless folk very bold everywhere, and the farm was lonely enough.

We rode through the swinging gate, and then we saw three horses by the stable yard paling, and with them was an armed man, who saw us as we came round the house, and whistled shrilly. Whereon two others came running from the building, and asked in the Danish tongue what he called for. The first man pointed to us, and all three mounted at once. They were in mail and helm, fully armed.

Now we were not, for we had thought of no meeting such as this, and rode in woollen jerkins and the like, and had only our swords and seaxes, as usual; but for the moment I did not think that we should need either. Outlaws such as I took them for do not make any stand unless forced.

Presently one of the men, having mounted leisurely enough, called to us.

"There is no plunder to be had," he said, "even if you were not too late; our folk cleared out the place over well last time."

Then a fourth man, one who seemed of some rank, rode from beyond the house, passing behind us without paying any heed to us, except that he called to the men to follow him, and so went down the lane towards where Osmund was waiting with Harek.

All this puzzled me, and so I cried to the three men:

"What do you here? Whose men are you?"

At that they looked at one another--they were not more than ten yards from us now--and halted.

"You should know that," one said; and then he put his hand to his sword suddenly, adding in a sharp voice:

"These be Saxons; cut them down."

When hand goes to sword hilt one knows what is coming, and even as the man said his last words I was on them, and Kolgrim was not a pace behind me. The Dane's sword was out first; but I was upon him in time. His horse swerved as mine plunged forward, and I rode him down, horse and man rolling together in the roadway. Then the man to my right cut at me, and I parried the blow and returned it. Then that horse was riderless, and I heard Kolgrim laugh as his man went down with a clatter and howl.

My horse plunged on for a few steps, and then I turned. Kolgrim had one horse by the bridle, and was catching that which had fallen. I caught the other, and so we looked at each other.

"This is your luck, master," said Kolgrim.

"Well," said I, "these are Danes, and I do not think they are wanderers either. Here are forage bags behind the saddles. One would say that they were on the march if this were not mid-winter and time of peace. The horsemen in advance of a host, or the like."

Then Kolgrim said:

"Where has the other man gone? I had forgotten him for the moment."

"Bide here and see if any poor farm folk are yet alive," I said. "I will ride after him."

So I gave the horse I was holding to my comrade, and went back quickly down the lane to where Osmund and the other two were. The man I sought was speaking with the jarl, whose face was white and troubled. Harek was looking red and angry, but on Thora's face was written what I could not understand--as it were some fear of a new terror.

Now it was plain that all three were very glad of my coming; but the stranger looked round for a single glance, and then went on speaking to Osmund.

"Be not a fool, jarl," he said angrily. "Here is your chance; let it not slip."

"I tell you that my word shall not be broken," Osmund replied, very coldly and sternly.

"What say you, girl?" the man said then, turning to Thora. "Short shrift will be the jarl's when Alfred finds that we are on him."

But Thora turned away without a word, and then the Dane spoke to me:

"Here! you are another hostage, I suppose."

"I am not," I answered.

"Well, then, here is Jarl Osmund, if you know him