CHAPTER III
ALDBY
The escort of the Princess, of Volisia, and the children left Stillingfleet next morning. In the van rode the older boys, Oswith, Coelred, and Forthere, all three well armed, followed by the two ladies, the children, and attendants, while Coifi, with the two younger boys, Porlor and Hereric, brought up the rear. "The gleeman is to be a priest of Woden," said Porlor to his friend, "to whom it is not permitted to carry arms. The defence of the rear depends upon us, so we must be on our guard." All the lads had arms suited to their size, but none of them were yet old enough to wear swords.
After a mile's ride through the forest, they came to open moorland where there was an outlying stockaded post of the Stillingas, afterwards called Moreby; and here they met the Heslingas, led by the veteran Ingeld, to whom the Princess gave fuller information than had been brought by the messenger, and he pushed rapidly onwards with his men, to join the Atheling. Riding on over moor and through forest, the ladies and their escort, after some hours, reached the banks of the bright river Derwent, where tall ash trees threw shadows over its surface, which was skimmed by water–hens, while now and then the brilliant plumage of the kingfisher glistened under the sun's rays as it darted to its galleried nest in the bank. Soon the party came in sight of Aldby, the royal seat of the kings of Deira, on a slight eminence above the right bank of the river, the buildings appearing amongst clumps of tall trees.
The Roman station of Derventio, on the Derwent, was twelve miles east of York. When the English arrived, the buildings had been much injured by invaders from the north, and by more than a century of neglect. They were in a ruinous condition, but they were still standing; and they received the name of Aldby, or the ancient town, from the new–comers. The prætorium, repaired in many places with timber, still had a portico composed of pillars with composite capitals, and formed the guest–hall of the King of Deira. A villa, consisting of rooms built round three sides of a square, with corridors, and a temple, were also included in the Deiran palace. The walls of the guest–hall were adorned with tapestry representing mythical beings from the Teutonic mythology, and the floor retained its mosaic pavement. Although the boards or tables were on movable trestles, there were fixed sideboards, with bowls of bronze highly gilt and of very elegant forms, metal dishes, and horns, while a raised dais with a throne at one end gave some appearance of regal dignity to the spacious hall.
King Ella had marched away with a large force, but its place had been taken by warriors from Driffield and from Godmundham, and Aldby still had the busy appearance of a royal abode, with yards and halls crowded with armed men, priests, and servants. The fugitives were cordially received by Ella's queen, the stepmother of the Princess Alca, whose name is not recorded in history. She had recently given birth to a son, who had received the name of Edwin, a child of destiny, round whose life–story the events of this narrative will eventually centre. The children were all eager to pay their respects to the young Atheling, the hope of the house of Deira, and Alca led them into the presence of the infant prince.
There was much anxiety for several days, but at last the news came that Elfric had relieved Ulfskelf and defeated the numerous but ill–disciplined army of Britons. Their chief Certicus and his levies commenced a retreat which the King converted into a rout when he fell upon their right flank in the swampy ground between Askham and Bilbrough. Ella and his brother then formed a junction round the hill, now called Ingrish, and again fell furiously upon the disorganised rabble. Certicus, with a small following, escaped into the forests of Elmet, but there was tremendous slaughter, and the place is called Helagh to this day. The English outposts were again extended to the old Roman station of Calcaria, on the south side of the river Wharfe, facing the ford of Nehalennia. The King also restored the burg of the Billingas, and all due honours were paid to the remains of the chief Vidfinn, who had been a daring Viking before he established himself at Bilbrough with his children Hjuk and Bil. Nine votive boats of pure gold were deposited in his grave, and a lofty tumulus was raised above it, on the slope of the red sandstone hill which rises gradually from the Roman road between York and Tadcaster. Little Sivel, the only surviving child of Vidfinn, was adopted by Brand of Ulfskelf. A nephew of Vidfinn, named Saebald, surnamed Fairfax from his silver–white hair, was elected to command the Billingas and to defend the restored settlement of Bilbrough.
These administrative arrangements occupied some time, during which the lads at Aldby hunted in the forests between the Derwent and the foot of the Wolds, sometimes pursuing their game far into the chalky hills, and often ascending Garraby, which rises to a height of nearly 800 feet above Aldby. Their evenings were passed in games with their sisters, or in conversations with Alca, varied by listening to the wondrous tales of Coifi or to the folk–lore of another race preserved in the memory of their mother Volisia.
One day the five boys went with Coifi to Godmundham to visit the temple which contains the sacred images brought from the old home on the continent. A space was encircled by a quickset hedge, and within there were three lofty elms, under which the idols were set up. Hard by were the ruins of the Roman station of Delgovitia, some of the buildings having been roughly repaired to serve as dwellings for priests and servants. Coifi localised his beliefs. According to his creed, Woden and Thor were within this enclosure at Godmundham, or at all events he held that this was their favourite home, where worshippers must seek their help, and where priests must observe all the ceremonies connected with their cult. He told the boys the history of the creation, and all the strange legends which had gathered round it; and he narrated the myth of Balder's death and of Freyr's love for Gerdr. He attended the sacrifices of bullocks, and remained long at his devotions. But he never could derive either power or inspiration from his prayers to the gods, and he rose from them with an expression of discontent and impatience. The boys were glad to return to Aldby, dissatisfied also, and eager for some more sympathetic teaching. This they found in the Princess Alca, who to them was the type of perfect beauty and goodness.
PRINCESS ALCA TELLING STORIES TO THE BOYS
They had attended her on an excursion to the foot of the Wolds, and rested on a rising ground under the spreading branches of a tall ash tree, with Aldby in sight beyond the river, and a mass of waving foliage at their feet. The sun was still high, the stillness only broken by the songs of birds. Alca sat on one of the projecting roots. The boys were lying down at her feet, surrounded by leaves and flowers, which they had been collecting to decorate her bower. Porlor broke the silence by asking the Princess to teach them the story of Balder, and its meaning. "Porlor," she said, "was right to be the spokesman, for his name should make him a student of Balder's lore. But I see by your eyes," she added, "that you all wish me to talk to you of the Son of God. Listen, then, to one who seeks, though with little help and in twilight, to learn and to show to others the true meaning of hidden mysteries. Balder was the son of the All–father, of the Creator of gods and men. He was the god of light, and grace, and manly beauty. His brow was white as the chamomile flower. Through him deeds of true bravery were done on the earth, the weak were protected, virtue was practised, and justice was maintained. But a prophecy that Balder would perish afflicted the gods. Then Frigga, the spouse of Woden, took an oath from all created nature that no individual thing would harm the pride of Asgard, the beloved of gods and men. But the goddess made a fatal omission. She forgot a sprig of mistletoe. Being invulnerable, Balder allowed the gods to use him as a target. Now Loki, as you know, was born among the yotuns. He was false and full of wickedness, father of the terrible wolf Fenris and of Hela, ruler of the dead. Loki put mistletoe into the hands of the blind god Haudr, and with this he slew the best and greatest of Woden's sons, who descended into hell. The All–father himself went down into the dark abode of Hela, to persuade her to relinquish her prey. She agreed, if all created nature would weep for Balder. All nature did mourn for the loss of the god of goodness and beauty, save one old crone. 'What have the gods done for me,' she said, 'that I should weep for Balder? Let Hela keep her dead.' Thus Balder's fate was sealed, and with it the fate of the world; for justice, mercy, virtue, and true bravery ceased to prevail with Balder's death, though they did not entirely cease to exist. I know not why the All–father, in his wisdom, has submitted to this evil. But it can only be for a time. The Son of God will rise again in triumph. I sometimes think that he has risen, though as yet we know it not." Then the far–off look came again into Alca's blue eyes, and during the rest of her speech she gazed into the heavens. The boys listened almost breathless.
"I think that God has risen to redeem the world," she resumed. "I am impelled to this belief, though I know not why, or by what guiding power. But misfortune and sorrow will not end—not yet. Coelred, Hereric, Oswith, Forthere, Porlor, I love you as very dear brothers. It is perhaps by reason of my love that insight is given to me. There is borne into my mind a feeling that some great calamity is impending over you all, and that it will fall upon you together. In this there is a ray of comfort." She paused, and Coelred said, "If misfortune overtakes us, O Princess, we will strive to meet it as Englishmen, as sons of our brave fathers, ever victorious in battle!" "And," said Oswith, "in all our troubles we will ever remember the goodness of our beloved Princess." Forthere spoke words like those of Coelred, which were echoed by the younger boys.
"Of that I am certain," continued Alca. "You will quit yourselves like men—above all, like Englishmen. If you are together in your trials, Coelred will be your leader. The fearless Oswith will be your support, and will help to form your plans. Forthere, too, will be a trusty friend. Porlor will be most shrewd as an adviser, and his rede should be followed; and my sweet cousin Hereric will enlighten counsels by his imagination. O my boys! remember that if sorrow comes, Alca is praying for you and thinking of you. Always act as if the Son of God had risen. Be brave. Love one another. Love truth. Be just and merciful. If you hear that God has truly risen, then remember my words. Be true to yourselves, and you will triumph in the end. May the gods watch over you!"
There was a long silence. Alca rose and turned homewards, surrounded by the boys with their sweet burdens. Anxious to turn their thoughts from the solemn and depressing theme on which she had been led to dwell for a time, by a force beyond her control, the Princess sang them a merry song, and talked to them of the return of their victorious fathers, which was expected on the following day. When the party reached Aldby all were chatting and romping, and the boys turned into an inner court to exercise themselves in feats of strength.
Next day the King arrived. Ella was a large man, like his brother, but he looked much older, worn with illness, and his expression was melancholy and somewhat stern. Elfric rode by his side, Seomel, Guthlaf, Brand, and the other chiefs followed, and there was a goodly array of English warriors. They dismounted at the Roman colonnade, and were soon surrounded by wives and children. The great feast that night in the old prætorium was ordered and arranged like that of Seomel, but on a much larger and more regal scale. The Queen herself took round the mead–cup to the guests, and when she retired there were songs of victory, and the harp was passed from one to another. One warrior had recited the events of the campaign, and received great applause. Another told of the surprise of the Billingas by the cruel and treacherous Certicus. Late in the evening Coifi took the harp, and selected for his song the warning of Hrothgar to Beowulf on the frail tenure of human life. This choice was resented by some of those present as being intended to have reference to the King; but Ella himself approved, and the gleeman continued as follows:—
Soon will it be
That sickness or the sword
Shall part thee from power;
Or clutch of fire,
Or wave of flood,
Or gripe of sword,
Or javelin's flight,
Or ugly age,
Or glance of eye
Shall oppress and darken thee.
This melancholy dirge concluded the feast, and before another year had passed King Ella was in his grave.
The time of parting came only too soon. The Lady Volisia, with her daughters and the children of Elfric, returned to Stillingfleet. The Atheling himself, with Seomel, proceeded to York to make further preparations for strengthening the frontier posts, and it was arranged that Seomel should go thence, with supplies of weapons and stores, to Bilbrough, Calcaria, and Ulfskelf, before returning home. He was to take a large escort of Stillingas, and, to their great joy, the three elder boys and Porlor were to accompany him.
The Atheling and those who were to go with him to York took leave of the King and Queen. But when the boys came to say farewell to the Princess Alca their hearts were too full for words, and tears were in their eyes. They loved and worshipped her, they would all have died for her, but not a word could they say. She spoke very gently and calmly, repeating what she had said yesterday. "Remember my words. Be true to yourselves, and may the gods watch over you."
After the cavalcade started, the boys looked back again and again, waving their caps, until the graceful form under the colonnade was lost to sight. When would they see her again? Ah, when!
CHAPTER IV
YORK AND THE DEIRAN FRONTIER
Aberach, the British mound by the confluence of Ouse and Foss, was converted into the Roman camp of Eburacum by Agricola in A.D. 79, and from a camp became an imperial city, and the headquarters of the 6th Legion for nearly three centuries. The camp was surrounded by a ditch 9 feet deep and 32 wide, with an agger or rampart fortified by valli. The sides were 692 yards long, with four gates, and there was a space of about a hundred yards between the ditch and the river Ouse. But in A.D. 120 the Emperor Hadrian caused the valli to be replaced by substantial walls of alternate layers of bricks and masonry, with towers at the angles. The multangular tower at the north–west is still standing. The prætorium was converted into an imperial palace, and stood on the ground now occupied by gardens on the south–east side of Goodramgate, and by Aldwark and Peterna. A temple of Bellona stood on the site of part of St. Mary's Abbey and the manor. Hyeronimianus of the 6th Legion had dedicated a temple to Serapis on the site of Fryar's Garden, and there was an artificial cave for the worship of Mithras on a site in Micklegate, opposite St. Martin's Church. The sites of other temples and theatres, which must have existed, are now unknown. The dense forest of Galtres came close up to the Prætorian gate, whence a road led to Isurium, and the Decumanian gate was in the centre of the opposite wall.
When the English arrived the 6th Legion had been gone for upwards of a century and a half, the place had been frequently pillaged, the walls were broken down in several places, and the beautiful Roman edifices were in ruins. King Ella had repaired the breaches in the walls with strong palisades, and his brother Elfric had made a portion of the imperial palace habitable.
Seomel and the four boys were the guests of the Atheling for a few days, while weapons were collected and got ready for the use of the outposts beyond the Wharfe. The boys wandered about among the ruins, and gazed upon the porticoes and colonnades with awe and admiration. It was then that they first heard of the great emperors of Rome and of the Legions, and they understood dimly that their own people were only beginning to build up a new empire on the ruins of a glorious past. One day they had crossed the river Ouse to see the tombs which lined both sides of the Roman road leading to the south. Many were broken down, but some were still standing, especially on the higher ground. There was a beautiful monument on the Mount, where a youth and a maiden had been buried, for their figures were carved in relief on the stone, but of course the boys could not read the inscription. Here they rested, gazing over the swampy expanse of Knavesmire, and Porlor fancied that the two figures represented lovers who had been cut off in the flower of their youth. They were worshippers of Nehalennia; for a deity, like the one at Appleton, was carved in the semicircular space over their heads.
In running down the slope towards the river, the boys stopped at the entrance of the cave of Mithras, and entered with feelings of curiosity mingled with awe. In the dim light they could see a bull on its knees, and a young man plunging a knife into its neck. "What can it mean? Is it a priest sacrificing a bullock to Woden?" said Oswith. "That cannot be," objected Coelred, "for the images were not made by our people, nor do we make images of the sacrificers but of the gods, and those only at Godmundham." Porlor sat long gazing at the fine bas–relief, on which a few rays from the sun cast a dim light. "The being with a high cap," he said, "is a god, not a man. I see by his face that he is a good god." His companions looked again more closely. "The god is plunging a knife into the bull, but it is not to do harm but good, for he is a good god." He again sat thinking. "It is a mystery," he said at last, "and we are too ignorant to solve it." "Alca would understand," said the other boys. They walked down to the river, and, crossing it, returned to the "Aldwark," as the ruined palace was then called.
Next day Seomel left York with a number of laden horses, and a strong force as an escort. The four boys were with him. Again they passed the mysterious cave of Mithras, and the monument of the two lovers on the Mount, as they wended their way southward along the Roman road. These Roman roads in Britain were so admirably constructed that, although they had been neglected for more than a century, they were still serviceable. The mode of construction was as follows:—Two parallel furrows were dug to mark the width, and all loose earth was removed down to the rock. The first layer for the road was called the pavimentum. On it was laid a bed of small squared stones called statumen. The next layer consisted of a mass of small stones broken to pieces and mixed with lime, called rudus or ruderatio. The third layer, called nucleus, was a mixture of lime, chalk, broken tiles, all beaten together. On this was laid the summum dorsum or pavement of stones, sometimes like our paving–stones, but oftener of square flagstones. At proper intervals there were stations for changing horses, called mutationes, supplied with horses and veredarii or postilions, and in charge of stationmasters called statores. The miliaria or milestones were perfect stone cylinders about 3½ feet high, on bases.
The arrangements for travelling were out of gear, and most of the mutationes were in ruins or had been destroyed when King Ella reigned. But the splendid road was so admirably constructed that it was still efficient. Seomel had been delayed, and had not started until nearly sunset, but he made the best of his way, and reached the dwelling of Saebald the Fairfax, chief of the Billingas, long before dark. Here the night was to be passed. It was here that Saebald's predecessor had dwelt, and here the old warrior had been surprised by the Britons and killed. The place is now called Street Houses. The house was one of the mutationes of the Roman road, to which some wooden buildings had been added. But it was exposed, and it was the intention of Saebald to remove his people to a stockaded burg on the summit of what was afterwards called Ingrish Hill, about a mile to the westward of the road. Saebald received his guests with much cordiality, and after supper he was quite willing to satisfy the eager curiosity of the boys about the life and death of the Viking chief Vidfinn, and about the strange fate of his children, rumours of which had reached them.
The hall of the Billingas was lighted with torches, and after some conversation with Seomel touching the defences and the supply of weapons, the good–natured Saebald turned to the boys and began his tale. "Vidfinn," he said, "was a mighty sea–rover, and like Brand, his brother, a stanch follower of the Eolderman Iffi, father of our king. When the English first advanced beyond the Ouse they were led by Brand and Vidfinn, and Vidfinn eventually formed this frontier station beyond the road, where he and his followers settled. He brought two children, a boy and a girl, with him, named Hjuk and Bil, to whom he was devoted. He called his burg after the girl, Bilbrough, and his people hence were called Billingas. It so happened that the spring beside his dwelling on the road was fouled by cattle, and for a time they had to use the water from a well called Byrgir, about half a mile up the hill. One day Hjuk and Bil went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. They took a pole named Simul, on which they slung the bucket Saeg, and away they went, Bil in front and Hjuk behind, talking and laughing so that the people heard them and thought no harm. But they never returned." The boys had listened eagerly, and Oswith now asked if search was made for the lost children. "Yes, indeed," answered Saebald. "The pole Simul and the bucket Saeg were found lying near the well Byrgir in such a position as to make people think that Hjuk must have fallen down, and that Bil must have come tumbling after. But they were both gone. Search was made in all directions and continued long, but with no result. Vidfinn was wild with grief. At length, in gazing at Mani, who, as you know, is seen on the face of the moon and directs its course, Vidfinn thought he saw two children behind him, and he became convinced that Mani had taken Hjuk and Bil up from the earth as they were coming from the well. They help Mani by presiding over the tides of the ocean, it is thought: Hjuk looks after the flow, while Bil directs the ebb, and both together send the long high wave up the rivers, which you boys must often have seen, and which is named after the god Ægir."
When Saebald paused, the boys ran out into the road and gazed at the moon. They then saw, what they had never before observed, that there really were two children behind Mani. Astonished and intensely interested, they returned and entreated Saebald to tell them the rest of the story of Vidfinn. The fair–haired chief of the Billingas said that little remained to tell, and before beginning he showed the boys the pole Simul and the bucket Saeg, which hung on the carved door–post of the hall, and had escaped attention from the Britons. "When Vidfinn had satisfied himself that his beloved children were safe in the hands of Mani," resumed Saebald, "he was consoled, and ten years ago he took another wife, a daughter of one of the Billingas, and had a son named Sivel, but the mother died. Peace had continued so long that the old Viking was off his guard and completely taken by surprise when his burg was attacked at the dead of night by the army of the Britons. He sent little Sivel away with a girl, and they escaped to Ulfskelf. Vidfinn then defended his home desperately, with his Billingas, and at length he fell amidst a heap of slain. He was amply avenged by the King and his brave warriors, and a worthy tumulus has been raised to the memory of the founder of Bilbrough. My father was Beorn, another of his brothers," concluded the Fairfax, "and as his successor, in the minority of Sivel, I am proud to be the host of the valiant Seomel and his knights" (cnihts or boys). By this time the eyes of the four boys were heavy, and they no sooner threw themselves on their heaps of fresh straw in the hall than they were all fast asleep.
At dawn the two chiefs, Seomel and Saebald, went up to the Ingrish Hill to inspect the progress of the stockade and to serve out weapons to the Billingas, and on the way the boys were shown the tumulus of Vidfinn, and, a little farther on, the deep well Byrgir. The tumulus had been raised on the very spot where the bucket Saeg and the pole Simul were found in the grass, so that it is a monument both to the Viking father and to the children kidnapped by Mani.
Taking their leave of the hospitable lord of Bilbrough, Seomel and the boys rode down the Roman road and came to the great battle–field of Helagh. Seomel showed them the place where the enemy's slain were buried, which is called "Hell Hole" to this day. They then went on to the river Wharfe, and crossed by the ford of Nehalennia to the old Roman station of Calcaria, where a strong English outpost was established. Seomel went a mile or two down the river, and fixed upon a hill called Kele–bor for another military station, to guard against sudden incursions from Elmet; while the boys wandered up the stream to a limestone crag. Here the water was deliciously cool and clear, so different from the muddy floods of Wharfe and Ouse, lower down. They stripped and plunged into it, and after their bath they went to the famous shrine of their mother's goddess Nehalennia at Calcaria. Here, in the midst of the white limestone country, the guardian deity of chalk workers and of fruit trees received highest honour. Here too, among her favourite white rocks, she lavished her favours most abundantly among the fruit orchards, and even now the real wine–sour plum will only grow on the Brotherton lime, and in the Sherburn district. Crossing the ford once more, and riding along the banks of the Wharfe, the little party was very hospitably welcomed at Ulfskelf by the grand old warrior Brand and his wife Verbeia, a sister of the Lady Volisia. Here Coelred and Porlor made the acquaintance of the little Sivel, a bright intelligent child, in whom the strange story told them by Saebald had made them feel a deep interest. Taking leave of their cousin Forthere and of Sivel at Ulfskelf next morning, and of Oswith, who rode on to Hemingborough, Seomel and his two sons arrived at their home. Here they found the Lady Volisia with the children of Elfric—Hereric, Bergliot, and Osric—her own daughters Braga and Nanna, and the dog Shuprak. Thus once more was the happy and united family assembled in the hall of Stillingfleet, with peace fully restored, and all fear of danger vanished. How fortunate it is that it is not given to any of us to know, and to few of us to foreshadow, what a week or a month may bring forth.
CHAPTER V
KIDNAPPED
"I feel the Berserker rage flowing through me, and arousing the desire to fight and to kill." It was Hereric who spoke, and he ended his strange words with a wild shout. "You, Hereric!" exclaimed Porlor; "why, you are the gentlest of us all, though no niddring. How strange that you should be so taken! Yet I have heard Coifi say that the hour when the sacred rage inflames us no man knows, but that it should never be resisted. When it comes, he told me, we must kill and kill." He raised another shout, which was echoed by Hereric and Coelred. "Lead us to the attack of savage beasts ten times our size," said Porlor to Coelred, whose eyes were also sparkling with excitement. "That will I," shouted the elder boy; "I will fight any one ten times my size," and he threw his arms over his head. The three boys had just been having their morning bath, and were sitting and lying on the grass, with their feet in the water of the brook, which rippled over the stones.
It was early morning, and they were to take Bergliot with them into the woods. When they ran home to get their arms, the young princess was waiting at the gate. In a few minutes they joined her, with hosen cross–girt, knives at their sides, and spears in their hands. "We are full of Berserker rage," they told her. "You are full of naughtiness" (the word she used was hinderscype), she answered, "and will be whipped." Yet their excitement was contagious, for she ran back into the hall and returned with a short spear and Shuprak at her heels. All four then ran wildly down the hill and over the brook, shouting and brandishing their spears, with the dog running and barking in front. Startled by the noise, the Lady Volisia came to the gate, and watched them, with anxious eyes, until they were hidden by the trees. Then tears trickled down her cheeks. She never saw the boys again. The wild young creatures made a great circuit in the forest, hurling their spears at everything, and running at speed until they came to the willow thicket where the Stillingfleet brook empties itself into the river Ouse. Here they paused to regain their breath.
Presently Bergliot, in looking through the leafy branches of the willows at the surface of the water, saw, sitting on a tree trunk on the edge of the bank, what she thought was a nixy or water sprite. It was singing, she fancied, but the sound was scarcely audible. "There is a nixy," she said in a whisper to the rest, pointing to where it sat. "Let us kill it," said Hereric. They all ran forward; the boys pushed the little creature into the rushing stream with the butt ends of their spears, while the girl threw a needle at it, which is supposed to be fatal to such sprites. Then they all sang the cruel spell and ran away:—
Nix, Nix—needle in water,
Virgin casteth steel in water
Thou sink and we flee.
As they ran they could hear a long wailing cry, and when they stopped out of breath it appeared to all of them to form itself into these ominous words:—
Dreadful your doom,
Slaves shall ye be,
Kindred and home
Never to see.
They looked at each other half–frightened, and Bergliot began to cry. She said she wanted to go home. The boys embraced her tenderly and kissed her, and Coelred told Shuprak to see her safe back. As she turned away she asked them to tell Oswith, if they saw him, that she hoped he would come to visit her very soon. She waved a farewell to them with her hand. Reluctantly, and after casting many longing glances at his young masters, the dog went home with the little girl. "Let us defy the omen," said Coelred: "let us go further afield to satiate our Berserker rage," and all three again plunged into the forest. They ran for hours, hurling their spears at every creature that came in sight. At length, on emerging from the forest into the heathy expanse of Skipwith Common, they paused for a moment to look round. Close by there was a huge wild bull of a dun colour, with spreading horns, and three cows. Coelred uttered a triumphant cry and hurled his spear at the bull's shoulder. In a moment the ferocious creature was upon him, threw him down amongst the heather, and would have gored and crushed him, if Porlor had not diverted its attention by driving his spear into its flank. It turned round foaming with rage just as Porlor sprang behind a tree and Hereric faced it on one knee with his spear pointed. Wild with rage, it dashed in his direction, then halted with its head up, its eyes glaring, and foam dropping from its mouth. Coelred had been stunned for a minute. He now ran up and attacked the bull in the flank, prodding it with his spear. Daunted by the vigour of the attack, the bull now galloped across the common, followed by the cows. The boys gave chase, shouting and brandishing their weapons, coming up with their antagonist amidst dense underwood, where they succeeded in killing it with their spears. As the noble creature fell there was a downpour of rain and a loud clap of thunder, and amidst the peals the boys thought they again heard the ominous curse of the nixy:—
Dreadful your doom,
Slaves shall ye be,
Kindred and home
Never to see.
They dashed wildly on, they knew not whither. Porlor started a wild–cat, which sprang up a tree. He followed with marvellous agility. The chase turned fiercely at bay, and Coelred climbed up the tree to help. There was a desperate fight among the branches, and the boys got some nasty scratches, but at last one of them plunged a knife into the cat, it lost its hold, and fell to the ground. Meanwhile Hereric had roused a badger from its hole and kept it at bay with his spear. Its mouth was open and its rows of sharp teeth glistened. It would have gone hard with the Atheling if Coelred had not sprung upon it from behind and plunged his knife into a vital part. Once more the three boys resumed their wild career, with the ominous words of the nixy ringing in their ears. The sun was low when they emerged from the forest and came out on the banks of the muddy Ouse just at the point where the Wharfe joins it. They were now exhausted and hungry, so tired indeed that they could run no more without rest. They were unhappy too, and frightened at the sounds which seemed to form themselves into such dreadful words. The three boys threw themselves on the grass, and in a minute they were fast asleep.
They had not seen a long black boat, like some foul snake, creeping stealthily down the Wharfe to its confluence. It was flat–bottomed and of unusual beam, but low in the water. The crew consisted of half a dozen villainous–looking ruffians, sent by a vessel anchored at the mouth of the Humber to Calcaria on pretence of selling some cloths, and the return cargo was to be stolen. They were sea–thieves and cut–throats. As they descended the Wharfe they saw Forthere and Sivel fishing on the bank and suspecting no evil. Four of them sprang on shore, and in a minute the lads were bound hand and foot, gagged, and thrown into the bottom of the boat. A few minutes afterwards they came in sight of the confluence, just in time to see Coelred, Porlor, and Hereric throw themselves on the grass by the opposite shore. Very stealthily the boat was brought under the bank. Coelred and Hereric were overpowered and bound before they were half awake. Porlor, however, was aroused by the footsteps. He had time to draw his knife and make a desperate resistance, gashing the arm of one ruffian and stabbing another in the hand. But he was quickly overpowered. His two companions were thrown into the bottom of the boat, where, to their horror and astonishment, they found Forthere and little Sivel in like plight. Porlor was put across a thwart and given an unmerciful beating with a thong of leather, which, in the dialect of the cut–throats, was called a lorum. His young friends were nearly mad with impotent rage as they heard the ferocious blows being showered on the child's body. At last he was thrown, bruised and bleeding, among the rest; but, bound as they were, they could do nothing to console or help him. It all seemed like a horrible dream; they scarcely knew where they were, and could do nothing but sob as they were roused at intervals from a half–dozing state.
Meanwhile the boat went swiftly down the Ouse with an ebb–tide. The villains kept a sharp look–out on either bank, and, when half a mile above Hemingborough, they saw a boy bathing, and swimming out boldly as the tide had slackened. Thinking no harm, he caught hold of one of the boat's oars to rest. In an instant his wrists were seized, he was bound hand and foot, and thrown into the bottom of the boat with the others. It was Oswith. He was quite naked, and one of the crew threw a coarse cloth over him. The grief of the rest of the kidnapped children was redoubled at the sight of their beloved friend, the fearless son of Guthlaf. He was as little able to understand what had really happened as they were, yet he tried to console them. He whispered that he would look out for chances of escape, and reminded them that at least they had the consolation of being together.
All through the night the boat kept her course down the Humber, with the tide against them during the first watch, but with a fair wind. Off the mouth of the Trent the sea–thieves stopped and made fast, until they were joined by another smaller boat coming down that river, which went alongside and passed another boy on board. In spite of their misery and discomfort, the kidnapped children were fast asleep while the boat was waiting in the mud, and they were aroused by another little boy being thrown amongst them. He said that he was Godric the son of Ulchel, a thegn of the Gainas. He seemed to be as small as Sivel. After a time the seven forlorn children went fast asleep as the boat was rowed down the Humber, and finally came alongside the vessel whose leader had sent the thieves on their kidnapping errand.
This vessel was small, but suited for sea–voyages, and with much more beam than was allowed for an ordinary fighting ship. Her lines were indeed very unlike those of a dragon ship of the Vikings. For she was built primarily for trading, and in the second place for piracy, whenever the opportunity offered, and she had a capacious hold, now half full of merchandise. She was lying off Ravenspur, the site of the Roman station of Prætorium, under the shelter of Y–kill, the Ocellum Promontorium, now Spurn Head. The seven boys were bundled out of the boat and into the ship's hold like so many bales of goods, and the boats were turned adrift. They had been stolen. The vessel then got under weigh and hoisted her single sail, shaping a southerly course, with a strong breeze which soon freshened into a gale. The stolen children nestled together and slept long, for they were quite worn out with anxiety and grief, to which three of them had added a day of intense excitement and fatigue. They awoke quite famished and were given some food, but throughout the voyage the poor children were treated with vile inhumanity, half–starved, and exposed to the seas which washed into the vessel during the gale. They could not have survived many more days of such treatment. Fortunately the wind was fair, and the voyage had been a short though a stormy one, when the piratical thieves anchored in the port of Amfleet. It is not known whence they came nor what land was disgraced by having bred them, nor does it matter. They were paid and employed by a trader with more humanity but as little conscience as themselves.
CHAPTER VI
MYSTACON
Mystacon was the principal trader between Gaul and the northern countries on the one hand, and Italy and the East on the other, during the latter part of the sixth century. He was a Greek, a native of Crete, brought up by a merchant at Massilia, and his life had been devoted to mercantile pursuits, in which his cunning, ability, and absence of all scruples had enabled him to amass wealth, which he sought by every means to increase. In those days Brunehaud, a Gothic princess from Spain, was Regent of the eastern part of France, called Austrasia, her husband, King Sigebert, having been assassinated in 575. Neustria, which included northern and central France, was governed by Queen Fredegonda as Regent to her little son Clotaire II. A handsome woman of low extraction, she had waded through murders and other evil deeds to her lofty position, in which she maintained herself by her strong will. Capable of any crime to gain her objects, courageous and unscrupulous, she must have possessed great ability and astuteness to have been successful in maintaining her power so long in that turbulent age. Her husband, Chilperic I., died by poison administered by his wife in 584, and Fredegonda was Regent from that year until 596. Gontran, the brother of Sigebert and Chilperic, was King of Burgundy. A fourth brother, Charibert, King of Paris, who was father of Bertha, the wife of Ethelbert, King of Kent, died without male issue in 570. These four brothers were the grandsons of Clovis.
The Greek trader, when he found that the fierce nation of the Franks was ruled over by the Queen–Regents, Brunehaud and Fredegonda, hastened to propitiate them by presents, and to secure their patronage. As regards Fredegonda he had been successful. He consulted her wishes, and brought her the luxuries she required both from the north and south, always as free offerings. In return he was under her protection, his goods were to pass unmolested through her dominions, and he was to be assisted by her officers. He had been granted similar privileges by King Gontran of Burgundy, whose country included the shores of the Rhone from Lyons to the sea.
In his northern trade Mystacon employed agents to bring him valuable furs and amber, and even unicorns' horns, from the countries bordering on the Baltic, tin from Cornwall, and occasionally he paid sea–thieves to kidnap young children from the north, who fetched high prices in the markets of Rome and Constantinople. He had a shed at Ambleteuse where he received his northern merchandise, preferring that little port to the neighbouring harbour of Gessoriacum (Boulogne), because a Frankish officer, from whom his gifts had secured him favour and protection, was stationed there with a strong body of disciplined followers.
Mystacon had been several days at Ambleteuse, his merchandise was stored in the shed, and his servants had pack–horses ready to convey it southward along the old Roman road, when the vessel from the Humber anchored off the port and landed its cargo. The crew was composed of such dangerous villains that the merchant induced the Queen–Regent's officer to post armed men behind his shed, before he ventured to confer with them. Besides a pile of beaver skins and other commodities, seven boys were put on shore. They stood on the sandy beach close together, the little ones clinging to the three bigger lads. All were wet through, and looked half–starved and miserable. Porlor and little Godric were clinging to Coelred. Sivel had his arms round Forthere, and Hereric nestled under the sheltering arm of the son of Guthlaf. Oswith the fearless, who was nearly naked, with only a bit of sackcloth round his loins, alone maintained a defiant look. There was no longer any sign or token of Berserker rage among the rest.
The wily Greek came forward to look at them. He saw their great beauty and their value, but he also saw from their appearance that they had been cruelly treated. The sea–thieves demanded the payment he had promised, so much for each. "But they are not in good condition," he remonstrated; "the price must be reduced." A livid mark on Porlor's neck caught his quick, searching eye. He pulled down the boy's shirt, and saw that his back was covered with weals, the effect of the cruel flogging he had received. "Damaged goods," he said. Then, turning to his servants, he told them to take the boys into the shed, and to clothe and feed them. "I will only pay half–price for damaged goods," he repeated, turning to the spokesman of the sea–thieves. "That little wild–cat used his knife on one of us," the man answered, "and the flogging served him right." "What is that to me, my friend?" rejoined Mystacon, in a low but irritating voice. "You can please yourselves about damaging your goods, that is your business, but you cannot expect to get the same price as if they were not damaged. If a heavy bale was to fall and hurt one of you, of course it is open to you to cut and slash it if you please, and it may serve the bale right. That I do not dispute. But you must not expect the same price in the market as if the bale had not been cut and slashed. I can only pay you half–price for the boys." The kidnappers could not follow the subtle argument of the Greek, but they began to look dangerous. The merchant retreated back a few paces. "Pay us what you promised, thou cursed cheat, or we will kill thee and the boys too." He retreated rapidly back and cried out for help, as the villains drew their long knives and rushed towards him. In another minute they were all overpowered and thrown on the ground by the Frankish guard. The officer came forward and suggested capital punishment, offering to hang them in a row. "It is the just and proper treatment," said Mystacon, "of those who try to extort full price for damaged goods from unwary traders. As soon as your laudable proposal has been carried into effect, I shall have pleasure in requesting your lordship to accept the large sum which the criminals refused." Another hour had not passed before twenty bodies were hanging from the branches of the stunted pines round Ambleteuse, and before the Frankish officer had an additional reason for extending his protection to the wily merchant.
Mystacon set out with his train of laden horses and attendants early next morning, following the old Roman road by Amiens, Soissons, and Autun to Lyons. The boys had been warmly clothed and fed, and had slept well, nor were they prevented from having a morning bath in the sea. Two pack–horses were allowed them, so that they could ride by turns, while the rest trotted along on the road–side. They found that they could understand much that was said to them by the servants, and when Mystacon spoke the Frank dialect slowly and clearly, they could comprehend the meaning of nearly every word. For in those days there was little difference between the Frankish and other Teutonic dialects.
The journey across Picardy restored the health and strength, and revived the spirits, of the English lads. This limestone tract, with its keen fresh air, arable surface, and well–watered meadows, reminded them of the country round Calcaria. At Samarobriva, or Amiens, they rested, and Mystacon was allowed to store his goods against the wall of the town, and to encamp there by the Roman gate of the Twins, whereon was carved Romulus and Remus suckled by the wolf. This was the first opportunity the boys had found of collecting their thoughts, and holding a serious consultation. Even now they scarcely understood what had happened or where they were. Their first words, as they sat among the bales, were words of grief at the sorrow and anxiety of their relations, who would search high and low through the woods, until at last they gave them up as dead. "Alca will give them hope and courage," said Coelred. "She will know that we are together, and she knows that we shall return. For we are to die in battle fighting for a righteous cause, and that cannot be anywhere but in England. She is praying now that the gods will watch over us, and her prayers are ever answered." These words, spoken with an air of conviction, comforted the rest. "We must suffer," said Oswith, "but that does not signify when we have such good reason for hope. Porlor has already suffered more than the rest of us." "At that I rejoice," said Porlor, whose little head had been teeming with ideas suggested by Mithras and the bull, ever since he had gazed on the sculpture at York. "Through suffering we shall all win the rewards prepared for the true and brave; and the thong those niddring thieves called lorum is no word of bane to me, but of good luck." "Nay, then," said Hereric, smiling, "we must fasten it to thy name and call thee Porlorlorum." "Let it be so," answered the imaginative child; "it will remind me, and all of us, in the happy years that will surely come when this darkness has been turned to light, that we had to pass through suffering to happiness and home."
They then began to wonder what their position really was, and whither Mystacon was taking them. They had already discovered that he was a cunning liar, and they believed nothing he told them, although he had uniformly treated them with kindness. Forthere proposed to run away, and both Coelred and Oswith were inclined to some plan of making their way across country to the coast, and seizing a boat. But they would not attempt it unarmed. Alca had told them that little Porlor should give them counsel, and they all turned to him. "My rede is that we wait to learn more, and to see what will happen," he said. "I do not fear the distance this man is taking us from home, if we have knowledge. A short distance with ignorance means disaster, perhaps death. A very great distance is easy to go over with knowledge of all the obstacles, and of the way to overcome or avoid them. The wisdom of Alca and her insight will bring comfort to our parents. It is for us to remember her words, to follow them, to wait and watch until the time comes for us to go home. I know the time will come, and the gods will watch over us." "We will wait and watch," they all said. It was now dark. They laid their weary heads down side by side, and passed into a happy sleep. Their dreams were of home and kindred.
The boys had their morning bath in one of the numerous bright little trout streams, bordered by aspen and willow, which flow down to the sands of St. Valery. Later in the morning, as they sat talking near the Gate of the Twins, a monk came out in a long dark–coloured cassock, with a rope round his waist. He was a young man, with a patient look in his grey eyes, and a circlet of thick fair hair round his tonsure. When he saw the lads, he stopped to improve the occasion. He asked them if they knew what had happened at that Gate of the Twins, and he told them the story of St. Martin. "Out of this gate," he said, "long, long ago, a brave and virtuous Roman soldier named Martin rode, on a very frosty winter's day. He had a cloak wrapped closely round him, and as he passed along the causeway he saw a poor man shivering with cold. Martin drew his sword and, cutting his cloak in two, he gave half to the beggar. This was charity, the greatest of all virtues, which covers a multitude of sins. Martin was afterwards baptized in the half cloak, and became a Christian and a Saint." After a pause he asked, "Are you Christians?" Coelred answered that they did not so much as know that there were such people as Christians. "But," he added, "we know very well that it is good to give to those who are in need; for the Princess Alca has taught us." "We know it," said Hereric, "and we try to remember to act as she has taught us, but we are not always able to do right." The hearts of all the boys were warming towards the young monk.
There was a longer pause, and then the monk told them that they must be baptized into the fold of Christ. He raised his voice. "The Son of God went down into hell, but now He has risen from the dead." The boys started to their feet with looks of astonishment and deep interest. These were almost the very words spoken by the Princess Alca, under the ash tree at the foot of Garraby Hill. "Then Alca is right!" they exclaimed. "She is always right. The Son of God has risen." Porlor went on to ask about baptism, when Mystacon came forward. He had been listening to the latter part of the conversation, and did not like it. Concealing his displeasure by a forced smile, he invented a lie on the spur of the moment. "By the order of the Bishop of Noviodunum," he said, addressing the monk, "these Pagan youths are being conducted to his city to be duly instructed and baptized. I thank you for the interest you have taken in them, but your help is not needed." There was nothing more to be said. The good monk gave his blessing to the boys, and went on his way, while Mystacon issued hurried orders for the pack–horses to be loaded, and in another hour he and his merchandise were again journeying southward; but he kept well clear of the city of Noviodunum (Soissons).
The most anxious part of the journey for the merchant was approaching. He was bound to visit the Queen, wherever she might be, both on the way north and south, and she took whatever she fancied without paying. Even this heavy and uncertain tax generally left a wide margin of profit, but it was a source of anxiety, and he now feared that she might take a fancy to the beautiful English boys. Fortune, however, favoured him. Fredegonda was, he had ascertained, at the manor of Braine–sur–la–Vesle, between Soissons and Rheims, but he had also learned that she was on the point of departure. He cunningly timed his arrival on the day that she was to begin her journey, in the hope that she would accept a present, and, in the hurry of starting, forgo her usual practice of rummaging through the whole contents of his caravan. Late on the third evening after leaving Amiens, Mystacon encamped outside the gates of Braine–sur–la–Vesle. This Merovingian palace was an immense farm, with large unfortified wooden houses, stables, barns, and cow–sheds. In the morning the Franks in attendance on the royal family began to march out of the great enclosure. They had a fierce air, with large and vigorous bodies, inured to cold and hunger. Their favourite weapon, the battle–axe with a short handle, rested on their shoulders, and they wore their long hair tied up over their foreheads, forming a kind of aigrette, then falling behind like a horse's tail. The long line of the escort of warriors was followed by several waggons drawn by oxen. In the first sat Fredegonda, with the little King Clotaire, then only four years of age. She was a most formidable–looking woman, with a fierce, cruel glance in her large black eyes, and a haughty bearing. Mystacon advanced in a cringing attitude, offering a valuable present, which she accepted, as he had hoped, without stopping, ordering it to be put into one of the waggons. As the royal train passed out of sight, the merchant gave orders to continue the journey to Lyons, by way of Bibracte or Augustodunum (Autun). The boys had seen the warriors, and the great lady in her waggon. But they had been told nothing. If Porlor had known that it was the Queen of the Franks, his rede would probably have been to rush forward, tell her that Hereric was an Atheling of Deira, and claim her protection. But they knew nothing, were kept behind, and were only allowed to peep between the bales.
At Lyons the merchant embarked his goods in a large boat, went down the Rhone to its mouth, and then sailed in a vessel from Massilia to the mouth of the Tiber. Before embarking, the boys again had a long and anxious talk over their position. Mystacon had told them lie after lie about their destination, and they were in great perplexity. He said that he had saved them from death at the hands of the sea–thieves, that he was their saviour and benefactor, and that the journey was for their good. They had thought of telling their captor that Hereric was an Atheling, but on the whole it seemed to them that the knowledge might increase the danger, if it existed, and that their wisest course was to keep silence about themselves. They had enjoyed the journey through France. The sight of a strange country and of many things that were new to them had amused and interested them, and they now looked as bright and fresh as on the morning when the Berserker rage so unfortunately seized upon gentle Hereric, and led to such an unlooked–for catastrophe. Their fate was now sealed. After their embarkation in the boat on the river Rhone, it would not be many days before they would enter the imperial city and become the victims of Mystacon's greed.