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

a short hunting spear instead of staff in his hand, and whistling his "Biarkamal" as ever.

Now with Raud I had no quarrel concerning the death of the king, for well I knew that what he had done was truly in mercy, nor had he taken any part in what went before. So I greeted him heartily enough, for all that with the sight of him came back to me, with a sharp pang, the memory of how I saw him last. And he rejoiced to see me again.

"I have half feared that I should find you gone," he said; "for, when I heard of this from Hubba's men, I must needs come and find you, and little hope had I that you would live."

"I have nearly died, they say," I answered; "but I think that I owe it to you that I was not slain in Hoxne woods yonder."

"Why, not altogether," he answered, sitting on the settle by me, and looking me over, from arm yet in sling to lame leg. "Some of the men with Ingvar and me wanted to slay you before they left that place; but Ingvar growled so fiercely that they must let you be, that they said no more, nor even would look your way again. But he himself looked at you, and said strange things to himself."

"What said he?" I asked, wondering.

"He said, paying no heed to me, 'Now, Wulfric--you will hate me forever more, nor do I think that Lodbrok my father would be pleased with this;' after which he spoke words so low that I caught but one here and there, but they were somewhat of the lady Osritha, our mistress. After that he said to me, 'Leave him horse and arms and unbind him,' and then turned away. Yet if I had not bound you at first, maybe they would have had to slay you."

"That is true enough," I said; "surely I should have stood between you and the king. But what came to Ingvar to make him speak thus to me?"

"Why, after the hot fit comes the cold, ever, though Ingvar the King's cold rage is worse at times than his fury. But since that day there has been somewhat strange about the king."

"I wonder not," I said; nor did I. "But how goes it with him?"

"Men say, though they dare not do so openly, that the ghost of Eadmund will not let him rest, and that mostly does he fear him when his rage is greatest. Many a time when the fury seemed like to come on him, Ingvar turns white and stares suddenly beyond all things, as though seeing somewhat beyond other men's ken, and the sweat runs cold from his forehead. Many a man has escaped him through this."

"Surely Eadmund holds him back thus from more cruelty," I thought. And aloud I said:

"What think you of the matter?"

"Why, that I am glad that I was bold enough to save your dying king from more torture--else had I seen somewhat before me day and night. Truly I see him now betimes in my sleep, but he ever smiles on me. Moreover, this is true, that all those seven men who shot the arrows died in that week. Two died in Elmham Church when you were nigh slain."

"Tell me of that," I said.

For no man knew rightly what had befallen there, save that under the charred ruins of the roof lay Bishop Humbert and one or two of his men.

But when he told me, it was as I thought. Those few men had fought bravely until they were slain, themselves slaying three Danes. But one of the bishop's men escaped, cutting through a throng at the doorway and seizing a horse. Then was slain the bishop, who knelt at the altar, not even turning round to face the Danes as they came.

So I hold ever that as I lay for dead I had seen those brave ones pass me even as they were slain. But of this I said naught to Raud, at that time at least.

Now I asked Raud whence he had come, and he said:

"From London."

And at that I feared greatly, asking:

"Has Ingvar taken the city, therefore?"

"Not the king himself, but Guthrum went into London, taking good ransom for peace."

"Where is Ethelred the king of England?" I said, half to myself.

"Ethelred?--he minds naught but Wessex for good reason. For Halfden and Bagsac and the Sidracs are on one side of him, and Ingvar and Hubba the other, waiting for him to make peace. But there is like to be fighting. Alfred, the king's brother, has a brave heart and a hard hand."

"Then all is quiet in London?"

"Peaceful enough; and there Guthrum the King holds court, and I think men are well content with him."

"Of what is Guthrum king?" I asked, for I had not heard him called by that name before. The only other king of the host beside the three jarls was Bagsac.

"Why, of East Anglia. He holds it for Ingvar, while he tries to add Wessex for his own to Mercia. Halfden will be king in Northumbria, maybe, and Hubba over another of the kingdoms."

So they had already parted out the land among them beforehand! Woe for us therefore, for unless a leader was raised up among us, surely all England must own Danish overlords! But I had heard Alfred the Wessex Atheling well spoken of as a warrior.

However, what was that to us of East Anglia? We had been deserted by Wessex at our need as it seemed, and these Danes were as near kin to us as Wessex Saxons.

"How did you come to leave Ingvar's service?" I asked, not being willing to dwell on this matter.

"I think my face spoke to him too plainly of that which was in Hoxne wood--and so he bade me stay with Guthrum. Nor was I loth, for I would find you again."

Then I was touched a little by the kindness of this rough warrior, and thanked him. After that we sat silent for a while, and the good dame brought out food and ale for Raud, and I envied his pleasure therein, for I took little as yet.

Now for many days past a great longing to be away from this place had filled my mind, and now seemed to be the time.

"Take me to London, Raud," I said.

"Why, that is part of my errand here," he answered, smiling. "I have a message to you from Guthrum the King."

"What might that be?"

"He wants to speak to you as one who is known to be friend to Dane and Anglian alike, and being blamed by neither for friendship with the other. So he would have you give him counsel."

"Let me get to London," I said, "and then I will answer. I cannot now."

So Raud bided in the farm with me for a while, and now with new thoughts and with his talk of Halfden and Osritha, I mended quickly, for it was my troubled mind that had kept me back mostly, as I cared for nothing.

One day I felt strong again, waking up and taking delight in the smell of the fresh morning and in the sunlight. And I ate heartily of the brown bread and milk they gave me, and afterwards told Raud of what I had been long thinking.

"All things are quiet in the land now. Let us gather a few of my people and seek the head of our king, if you fear not to go into Hoxne woods."

Raud thought for a while before he answered me.

"I fear not, for the poor king thanked me, smiling at me. Let me go with you."

So that day the dame sent messages by her son to some who had come back to their places, and in the evening when he came home, there were with him two of Bishop Humbert's monks, dressed like churls, for they dared not wear their habits. These two and some others would gladly come with me on my search.

Next day, therefore, they set me on a pony that was quiet, and slowly we went towards Hoxne, coming thither in the afternoon early, seeing no Danes anywhere, while many of our folk were back and at work in the fields.

Then I asked Raud if these poor people were safe now.

"Surely, master," he said, for so he would call me, having heard the farm people name me thus. "There is none so great difference between you and us, and we Danes love to be at peace if we may. I think there will be no more trouble here. And, anyway, we are too wise to hinder a harvesting of that we may eat."

So too thought I, and my heart was less sad after that ride, though there was not one place left unburnt of all that we saw.

When we came to Hoxne I told the two monks where we had bestowed the king's body, bidding them look to see if it was not disturbed. And they said that his bones were safely there.

Now we must seek for the head of the king, and in that Rand could not help us, for one had ridden away with it while he was taken up with me and my plight.

So we went towards that place where the dog had taken us, and searched long, until I, being weak, must get from off the pony and rest. I would ride back to the place where the king had been slain and sit there awhile; but first, knowing that Vig remembered things well, I sent him from me, bidding him search also, hoping that he would not forget his last quest in this place. Yet what we most feared was that the forest beasts had made our search vain.

There were many men from the village with us now, for they had followed the two monks, and they spread about over the wood far and wide, searching, while I sat at the foot of the oak tree to which the king had been bound, leaning my arms and head against the trunk that had been stained with his blood, and thinking and praying, as well I might in that sacred place.

I moved my hand, and felt something sticking from the hard bark and looked to see what it was. It was an arrowhead, such a rough iron spike as men will use when they must make fresh arrows after battle, in all haste, and have to use what they can first find. The shaft was snapped close to the iron and the rawhide lashing that held it, and I could not take it out as I would, for the young oak was sturdy and tough; and so I left it, thinking that I would return some day to cut it out.

That I did in after years, but the arrowhead was hidden, for the tree had grown fast, closing on it, as I think, and I could not find its place. So it will be there for one to find hereafter, maybe long hence, for such a tree has many a hundred years to last yet, if saved from mishap of wind or lightning or axe. Then I think will men still know what that iron is, for Eadmund the King cannot be forgotten.

Presently it seemed to me that the voices