The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wulfric the Weapon Thane, by Charles W. Whistler

"Let Wulfric have his say first," he growled; and I thanked him in my mind for his thought.

So we went to the inner chamber, where Osritha would sit with her maidens, and Halfden said:

"This matter is filling all my thoughts so that I am but a gloomy comrade at the board. Tell me all, and then what is done is done. One may not fight against the Norn maidens ^{xiv}."

There I told him all my story, and he remembered how I had told him, laughing, of Beorn's jealousy at first. And when my tale was nearly done Osritha crept from her bower and came and sat beside Halfden, pushing her hand into his, and resting her head on his shoulder.

Then I ended quickly, saying that Ingvar had done justice on Beorn. And at that remembrance the maiden shivered, and Halfden's face showed that he knew what the man's fate was like to have been at the great jarl's hands.

"So, brother," he said, when I left off speaking, "had I gone to Reedham there would have been burnt houses in East Anglia."

"Wherever this Beorn had a house; and at Caistor where that old fool Ulfkytel lives, and maybe at one or two other places on the way thither. And I think your father and Egfrid your brother would have helped me, or I them."

So he doubted me not at all, any more than I should have doubted his tale, were he in my place and I in his.

Then I said that I myself had no grudge against Earl Ulfkytel, for he had sent me here.

"Why then, no more have I," answered Halfden; "for he is a wiseacre and an honest one, and maybe meant kindly. Ingvar would have slain both guilty and innocent, and told them to take their wrangle elsewhere, to Hela or Asgard as the way might lead them."

Now as he said that, I, who looked ever on the face of her whom I loved, saw that a new fear had come into Osritha's heart, and that she feared somewhat for me. Nor could I tell what it was. But Halfden and I went on talking, and at last she could not forbear a little sob, and at that Halfden asked what ailed her.

"May I speak to you, my brother, very plainly, of one thing that I dread?" she asked, drawing closer to him.

"Remember you the words that Ingvar said to the priest of the White Christ who came from Ansgar at Hedeby ^{xv}, while our father was away in the ships?"

"Why, they were like words. He bade him go and settle the matter with Odin whom he would not reverence, and so slew him."

"Aye, brother. And he said that so he would do to any man who would not honour the gods."

"Because--because there will be the great sacrifice tomorrow, and Wulfric, your friend, is not of our faith."

Then Halfden was silent, looking across at me, and all at once I knew that here was a danger greater than any I had yet been through. Fire I had passed through, and water, and now it was like to be trial by steel. And the first had tried my courage, and the next my endurance, as I thought; but this would try both, and my faith as well.

"That is naught," said Halfden, lightly. "It is but the signing of Thor's hammer, and I have seen Wulfric do that many a time, only not quite in our way, thus;" and he signed our holy sign all unknowing, or caring not. "And to eat of the horse that is sacrificed--why, you and I, Wulfric, did eat horse on the Frankish shores; and you thought it good, being nigh starved--you remember?"

I remembered, but that was different; for that we did because the shores were so well watched that we ran short of food, and had to take what we could under cover of night at one time. But this of which Osritha spoke was that which Holy Writ will by no means suffer us to do--to eat of a sacrifice to idols knowingly, for that would be to take part therein. Nor might I pretend that the holy sign was as the signing of Thor's Hammer.

"Halfden," I said, having full trust in him, "I may not do this. I may not honour the old gods, for so should I dishonour the White Christ whom I serve."

"This is more than I can trouble about in my mind," said Halfden; "but if it troubles you, I will help you somehow, brother Wulfric. But you must needs come to the sacrifice."

"Why, no; all men must be present. And to be away would but make things worse, for there would be question."

Then I strengthened myself, and said that I must even go through with the matter, and so would have no more talk about it. But Osritha kept on looking sadly at me, and I knew that she was in fear for me.

Now presently we began to talk of my home and how they would mourn me as surely lost. And I said that this mourning would be likely to hinder my sister's wedding for a while. And then, to make a little more cheerful thought, I told Halfden what his father had said about his wishing that he had been earlier with us.

"Why, so do I," said my comrade, laughing a little; "for many reasons," he added more sadly, thinking how that all things would have been different had he sailed back at once.

"Now I would that you would turn good Dane and Thor's man, and bide here with us; and then maybe--"

But Osritha rose up quickly and said that she must begone, and so bade us goodnight and went her way into the upper story of that end of the great hall where her own place was. Whereat Halfden laughed quietly, looking at me, and when she was quite gone, and the heavy deerskins fell over the doorway, said, still smiling:

"How is this? It is in my mind that my father's wish might easily come to pass in another way not very unlike."

That was plain speaking, nor would I hesitate to meet the kindly look and smile, but said that indeed I had come to long that it might be so. But I said that the jarl, his father, had himself shown me that no man should leave his old faith but for better reasons than those of gain, however longed for. For that is what he had answered Eadmund the king when the land was offered him, and he was asked to become a Christian.

"Yet if such a thing might be," said Halfden, "gladly would I hail you as brother in very truth."

So we sat without speaking for a while, and then Halfden said that were I to stand among the crowd of men on the morrow there would surely be no notice taken of me.

Yet as I lay on my wolf skins at the head of the great hall, and prayed silently--as was my wont among these heathen--I asked for that same help that had been given to men of old time who were in the same sore strait as I must very likely be in tomorrow.

Then came to me the thought: "What matters if outwardly I reverence Thor and Odin while I inwardly deny them?" and that excuse had nigh got the better of me. But I minded what our king had told me many a time: how that in the first christening of our people it had ever been held to be a denying of our faith to taste the heathen sacrifices, or to bow the head in honour, even but outward, of the idols, so that many had died rather than do so. And he had praised those who thus gave up their life.

Then, too, I remembered the words of the Prior of Bosham concerning martyrs. And we had been led to speak of them by this very question as to sacrifice to the Danish gods. So I made up my mind that if I might escape notice, I would do so--and if not, then would I bear the worst.

So I fell asleep at last. And what it may have been I know not--unless the wind as it eddied through the high windows clashed some weapon against shield on the walls with a clear ringing sound--but I woke with the voice of Bosham bell in my ears--and Rorik and Halfden each in his place started also, and Rorik muttered a curse before he lay down again, for he sat up, looking wildly.

But greatly cheered with that token was I, for I knew that help was not far from me, and after that I had no more fear, but slept peacefully, though I thought it was like to be my last night on earth.

CHAPTER X. WHAT BEFELL AT THE GREAT SACRIFICE.

Very early in the gray morning Halfden woke me, and he was fully armed, while at the lower end of the hall the courtmen were rising and arming themselves also, for Vikings must greet Odin as warriors ready to do battle for him when Ragnaroek ^{xvi} and the last great fight shall come.

"Rise and arm yourself," he said; "here are the arms in which you fought well in your first fight, and axe and sword beside. Now you shall stand with our crew, and so none of them will heed you, for they love you, and know your ways are not as ours. So will all be well."

Then I thanked him, for I surely thought it would be so; and I armed myself, and that man who had been my own shield man when I led the midship gang helped me. One thing only I wished, and that was that I had the axe which Lodbrok made for me, for then, I told the man, I should feel as a Viking again, and that pleased him.

"However," he said, "I think I have found an axe that is as near like your own as may be."

And he had done so, having had that kindly thought for me. Then we went out, for the horns were blowing outside the town in the ash grove where the Ve, as they call the temple of Odin and Thor and the other gods, was. And overhead, high and unseen in the air, croaked the ravens, Odin's birds, scared from their resting places by the tramp of men, yet knowing that their share in the feast was to come.

I shivered, but the sound of the war horns, and the weight and clank of the well-known arms, stirred my blood at last, and when we fell in for our short march, Halfden and Thormod, Rorik and myself leading our crew, I was ready for all that might come, if need for a brave heart should be.

Silently we filed through the bare trunks of the ashes, the trees of Thor, where many a twisted branch and dead trunk showed that the lightning had been at work, until we came to the place of the Ve in its clearing.

There stood the sanctuary, a little hut--hardly more--built of ash-tree logs set endwise on a stone footing, and roofed with logs of ash, and closed with heavy doors made of iron-bolted ash timber also. This temple stood under the mightiest ash tree of all, and there was a clear circle of grass, tree bordered, for a hundred yards all round it, and all that circle was lined with men, armed and silent.

Before the temple was a fire-reddened stone, the altar. And on it were graven runes, and symbols so strange that neither I nor any man could read them, so old were they, for some men said that stone and runes alike were older than the worship of Odin himself, having been an altar to gods that were before him. And a pile of wood was ready on the altar.

Beside it stood Ingvar, clad in golden shining scale armour, and with a gilded horned helm and scarlet cloak that hung from shoulders to heel; for as his forefathers had been before him, beyond the time when the Danes and Angles came from their far eastern home ^{xvii}, led by Odin himself, he was the "godar", the priest of the great gods of Asgard, and his it was to offer the sacrifice now that Lodbrok his father was dead.

Now, as I stood there I thought how my father had told me that our own family had been the godars of our race in the old days, so that he and I in turn should have taken our place at such an offering as Ingvar was about to make. And straightway I seemed to be back in the long dead past, when on these same shores my forbears had worshipped thus before seeking the new lands that they won beyond the seas. And that was a strange thought, yet now I should know from what our faith had brought us.

In a little while all Ingvar's following had come, and there were many chiefs whose faces I had seen of late as they came to plan the great raid that was to be when the season came. And the men with them were very many, far more than we could have gathered to a levy on so short notice; and all were well armed, and stood in good order as trained and hardened warriors. No longer could I wonder at all I had heard of the numbers of the Danish hosts who came to our shores, and were even now in Northumbria, unchecked.

There was silence in all the great ring of men; and only the rustle of the wind in the thick-standing ash trees around us--that seemed to hem us in like a gray wall round the clearing--and the quick croak and flap of broad wings as the ravens wheeled ever nearer overhead, broke the stillness.

We of the crew for whose good voyage and safe return the offering was made stood foremost, facing the altar stone and the sanctuary door, and I, with Halfden and Thormod before me, and men of the crew to right and left, stood in the centre of our line, so that I could see all that went on.

Then, seeing that all was ready, Ingvar swung back the heavy door of the shrine, and I saw before me a great image of Thor the mighty, glaring with sightless eyes across the space at me. It was carved in wood, and the god stood holding in one hand Mioelner, his great hammer, and in the other the head of the Midgaard serpent, whose tailed curled round his legs, as though it were vainly trying to struggle free.

Then Ingvar turned and lighted the altar fire, and the smoke rose straight up and hung in the heavy morning air in a cloud over the Ve; and that seemed to be of good omen, for the men shouted joyfully once, and were again silent.

From behind the sanctuary two armed men led the horse for the sacrifice that should be feasted on thereafter; and it was a splendid colt, black and faultless, so that to me it seemed a grievous thing that its life should thus be spilt for naught. Yet I was the only one there who deemed it wasted.

Then Ingvar chanted words to which I would not listen, lest my heart should seem to echo them, so taking part in the heathen prayer. Over the horse he signed Thor's hammer, and slew it with Thor's weapon, and the two men flayed and divided it skilfully, laying certain portions before the jarl, the godar.

He sprinkled the blood upon doorway and statue, and then again chanting, laid those portions upon the altar fire, and the black smoke rose up from them, while all the host watched for what omens might follow.

The smoke rose, wavered, and went up, and then some breath of wind took it and drifted it gently into the open temple, winding it round the head of Thor's image and filling all the little building. And at that the men shouted again.

Then Ingvar turned slowly towards the shrine, and drawing his sword, lifted up the broad shining blade as if in salute, crying as he turned the point north and east and south and west:

And at once, as one man all the host, save myself only, lifted their weapons in salute, crying in a voice that rolled back from the trees like an answering war shout:

But as for me, I stirred not, save that as by nature, and because I fixed my thoughts on the One Sacrifice of our own faith, I signed myself with the sign of the cross, only knowing this, that Thor and Odin I would not worship.

Suddenly, even as the echo of the shout died away, and while the weapons were yet upraised, the thick cloud of smoke rolled back and down, wrapping round Ingvar the godar as he stood between shrine and altar, and across the reek glared the sightless eyes of the idol again, cold and heedless.

Now of all omens that was the worst, for it must needs betoken that the sacrifice was not pleasing; and at that a low groan as of fear went round the host. Then back started Ingvar, and I saw his face through the smoke, looking white as ashes. For a long time, as it seemed to me, there was silence, until the smoke rose up straight again and was lost in the treetops. Even the ravens, scared maybe by the great shout, were gone, and all was very still.

"The sacrifice is yours," he said, "and if it is not accepted the fault is yours also. We are clear of blame who have bided at home."

"No blame to the crew--but here is one, a stranger, who does no honour to the gods, neither lifting sword or hailing them as is right, even before Thor's image."

Then I knew that the worst was come, and prepared to meet it. But Halfden spoke.

No man stirred, for indeed I think that most of our crew knew not who was meant, and those near me would, as Halfden told me, say nought.

Then Rorik pointed to me. So I stood forth of my own accord, not looking at him, but at Ingvar.

"I saw Wulfric sign Thor's hammer even now. What more does any man want from a Saxon?"

"Let Wulfric go his own way, brother. What matters it what gods he worships so long as he is good warrior and true man, as I and my men know him to be?"

So he looked round on the faces of my comrades, and they answered in many ways that this was so. And several cried:

Now I think that Ingvar would have let the matter pass thus, for the word of the host is not lightly to be disregarded. But Rorik would not suffer it.

Then was a murmur that they must be appeased, but it came not from our crew; and Ingvar stood frowning, but not looking at me for a space, for he was pulled two ways. As godar he must not pass by the dishonour to the gods, yet as the son of the man whom I had saved, how could he harm me? And Rorik, seeing this, cried:

"Why, what dishonour has he done the gods?" said Halfden. "If he had scoffed, or said aught against them--that were a different thing. And what does Thor there care if one man pays no heed to him? Surely he can keep his own honour--leave it to him."

"My fathers honoured them, for the godarship was theirs, and would have been my father's and mine, even as it is yours, Jarl Ingvar. For good reason they left that honour and chose another way and a better. And to that way I cleave. I have done despite to no man's faith--neither to yours nor my own."

At that Rorik lost patience, and lifting his axe, ground his teeth and said savagely:

Now at that Halfden saw a chance for me, and at once stayed Rorik's hand, saying in a loud voice:

"Ho! this is well. Let Wulfric and Rorik fight out this question--and then the life of him who is slain will surely appease the gods."

That pleased our crew well, for they had no great love for Rorik, who had taken too much command on him, for a stranger on board. Now, too, Ingvar's brows cleared, for he cared nothing for the life of either of us, so that the gods were satisfied with blood. And he said:

"So shall it be. Take axes and make short work of it. If Wulfric can slay Rorik, we know that he is innocent of aught to dishonour the gods. But if he is slain--then on his head is the blame."

Now came Hubba, pleased enough, for he knew my axe play, and that chief whom they called Guthrum, a square, dark man with a pleasant, wise face, and took four spears, setting them up at the corners of a twelve-pace square, between the line of our crew and the altar.

So now it seemed to me that I must fight for our faith, for truth against falsehood, darkness against light. And I was confident, knowing this, that the death of one for the faith is often the greatest victory. So I said:

Then Hubba and Guthrum placed me at one side of the square, and Rorik at the opposite. And I faced the image of Thor, so that under the very eyes of the idol I hated I must prove my faith.

Then came a longing into my mind to lift my axe in Thor's face and defy him, but I put it away, for how should an idol know of threat or defiance? Surely that would be to own some power of his.

When we were ready, Hubba and Guthrum, each with drawn swords, stood on either side of the spear-marked square, and signed to Ingvar to give the word. At once he did so.

Then I strode forward five paces and waited, but Rorik edged round me, trying to gain some vantage of light, and I watched him closely.

And all the host stood silent, holding breath, and the altar smoke rose up over our heads, and the ravens croaked in the trees, and over all stared the great statue of Thor, seeing naught.

Then like a wolf Rorik sprang at me, smiting at my left shoulder where no shield was to guard me. And that was Rorik's last stroke, for even as I had parried Thormod's stroke in sport, the man's wrist lit on the keen edge of my axe, so that hand and weapon flew far beyond me with the force of his stroke. Then flashed my axe, and Rorik fell with his helm cleft in twain.

Then I went back to my place beside Halfden, and our men patted my back, praising me, roughly and heartily, for it is not a viking's way to blame a man for slaying a comrade in fair fight and for good reason.

Now Ingvar stood before the shrine, and called to the gods to be heedful of the blood spilt to purge whatever dishonour or wrong had been done. And he hung up the weapons of the slain man in the shrine, and after that closed its doors and barred them; and we marched from the Ve silently and swiftly, leaving the body of Rorik alone for a feast to the birds of Odin before the dying altar fire.

Now was I light hearted, thinking that the worst was past, and so also thought Halfden, so that we went back and sought Osritha, who waited, pale and anxious, to know how things should go with me, and when we found her I saw that she had been weeping.

"Why, my sister," said Halfden, "hardly would you have wept for my danger--or weeping you would be from my sailing to return."

But she answered not a word, and turned away, for his saying made her tears come afresh.

"Now am I a blunderer," said Halfden. "If there is one thing that I fear it is a weeping maiden."

Then I took upon me to comfort Osritha, nor was that a hard task. And again I would have gone through this new danger I had faced, for it had brought the one I loved to my arms.

Not long might we be together, for now the feasting began, and I must go to Halfden and his brothers in the great hall. And then came remembrance to me. For now must I refuse to eat of the horse sacrifice, and maybe there would be danger in that. Yet I thought that no man would trouble more about me and my ways, so that I said naught of it to Osritha.

So I sat between Halfden and Thormod at the high place, and the whole hall was full of men seated at the long tables that ran from end to end, and across the wide floor. The womenfolk and thralls went busily up and down serving, and it was a gay show enough to look on, for all were in their best array.

Yet it seemed to me that the men were silent beyond their wont, surly even in their talk, for the fear of the omen of that eddying smoke was yet on them. And presently I felt and saw that many eyes were watching me, and those in no very friendly wise. Some of the men who watched were strangers to me, but as they sat among our crew, they must be the rest of the saved from Rorik's following. Others were men from beyond the village walls, and as Rorik's men had some reason and the others knew me not, I thought little of their unfriendly looks.

At last they brought round great cauldrons, in which were flesh hooks; to every man in turn, and first of all to Ingvar himself. He thrust the hook in, and brought up a great piece of meat, cutting for himself therefrom, and at once every man before whom a cauldron waited, did likewise, and it passed on. They signed Thor's hammer over the meat and began to eat.

Now after Ingvar had helped himself, the cauldron came to Guthrum, and then to Halfden, and then it must come to me, and I had heaped food before me that I might pass it by more easily, knowing that this was the sacrificed meat of which I might not eat. But the men stayed before me, and I made a sign to them to pass by, and honest Thormod leaned across me to take his share quickly, and they passed to him, wondering at me a little, but maybe thinking nothing of it. They were but thralls, and had not been at the Ve.

But Rorik's men had their eyes on me, and when the cauldron passed Thormod, and I had not taken thereout, one rose up and said, pointing to me:

At that was a growl of wrath from the company, and Ingvar rose, looking over the heads of my comrades, saying:

"This is foolishness to mind him; moreover, he has fought for and won his right to please himself in the matter."

So too said Halfden and Thormod, but against their voices were now many raised, saying that ill luck would be with the host for long enough, if this were suffered openly.

Now a Dane or Norseman takes no heed of the religion of other folk unless the matter is brought forward in this way, too plainly to be overlooked. But then, being jealous for his own gods, whom he knows to be losing ground, he must needs show that he is so. Nor do I blame him, for it is but natural.

So to these voices Ingvar the godar must needs pay heed, even if his own patience were not gone, so that he might not suffer that one should sit at the board of Thor and Odin, untasting and unacknowledging.

"Take this man away," he said, very sternly, "and put him in ward till tomorrow. Today is the feast, and we have had enough trouble over the business already."

The two men came towards me, and all men were hushed, waiting to see if I would fight. As they came I rose from my place, and they thought I would resist, for they shifted their sword hilts to the front, ready to hand. But I unbuckled my sword belt, and cast the weapon down, following them quietly, for it was of no good to fight hopelessly for freedom in a strange land.

Many men scowled at me as I passed, and more than one cried out on me. But Halfden and Thormod and Hubba, and more than were angry, seemed glad that this was all the harm that came to me just now. And Ingvar leaned back in his great chair and did not look at me, though his face was dark.

They put me into a cell, oak walled and strong, and there left me, unfettered, but with a heavily-barred door between me and freedom; and if I could get out, all Denmark and the sea around me held me prisoner.

Yet I despaired not altogether, for already I had gone through much danger, and my strength had not failed me.

Now, how I spent the daylight hours of that imprisonment any Christian man may know, seeing that I looked for naught but death. And at last, when darkness fell, I heard low voices talking outside for a little while, and I supposed that a watch was set, for the cell door opened to the courtyard from the back of the great house.

Now I thought I would try to sleep, for the darkness was very great, and just as I lay down in a corner the barring of the door was moved, and the door opened gently.

"What is it, brother?" I asked in as low a voice, for I had not been a viking for naught.

I saw his form darken the gray square of the doorway, and he came in and swung to the door after him; then his hand sought my shoulder, and I heard a clank of arms on the floor.

"See here, Wulfric," he said, "you are in evil case; for all Rorik's men and the men from outside are calling for your death; they say that Rorik had no luck against you because the Asir are angry, and that so it will be with all the host until you have paid penalty."

"Why, we had good luck with you on board, and hold that Rorik had done somewhat which set Thor against him, for he got shipwrecked, and now is killed. So we know that your ways do not matter to Thor or Odin or any one of the Asir, who love a good fighter. But we know not why you are so obstinate; still that is your business, not ours."

"Aye," said I. "So I must die, that is all. What said Ragnar Lodbrok about that?"

And I spoke to him the brave words that his forefather sang as he died, and which he loved:

"Whether in weapon play
Under the war cloud,
Full in the face of Death
Fearless he fronts him,
Death is the bane of
The man who is bravest,
He loveth life best who
Furthest from danger lives.
Sooth is the saying that
Strongest the Norns are.
Lo! at my life's end
I laugh--and I die."

"Nay, my brother," said Halfden earnestly; "think of me, and of Osritha, and seem to bow at least."

That word spoken by my friend was the hardest I ever had to bear, for now I was drawn by the love that had been so newly given me. And I put my hands before my face and thought, while he went on:

"If I were asked to give up these gods of ours, who, as it seems to me, pay mighty little heed to us--and I knew that good exchange was offered me--well then--I should--"

"You would do even as your father, and say that unless for better reason than gain--aye, however longed for--you would not."

Then he said, "Guthrum and I spoke just now, and he said that your faith must be worth more than he knew, to set you so fixedly on it."

Now I would have told him that it was so, but there came a little sound at the door, and Halfden went and opened it. Across its half darkness came a woman's form, and Osritha spoke in her soft voice.

Then I spoke quickly, for it seemed to me that if Osritha spoke and urged me, I should surely give way.

"Nay, but you must not persuade me--would you have had us Christians bid your father choose between death and gain for the sake of winning him to our faith?"

But in the dark Osritha came to my side and clung to me, so that I was between those two whom I loved and must lose, for Halfden held my right hand, and Osritha my left, and she was weeping silently for me.

"Listen," I said, for the speaking must be mine lest they should prevail. "Should I die willingly for one who has given His life for me?"

"Now it comes into my mind that hereafter you will know that I do not die for naught. For He whom I worship died for me. Nor may I refuse to spend life in His honour."

At that Halfden rose up, for he had found a seat of logs and sat by me on it, sighing a long sigh, but saying:

"Well, this is even as I thought, and I will not blame you, my brother. Fain would I have kept you here, and sorely will Osritha pine when you are gone. But you shall not die, else will the justice of Ulfkytel come to naught."

He thrust my mail shirt against me, and laid a sword in my hand, and set my helm on my head, all awry because of the darkness.

Then a new hope that came to me made me clasp Osritha's hand and kiss it before I must see to arming myself; but she clung to me yet, and I kissed her gently, then turning away sorely troubled went to work.

Soon I was ready for Halfden's word, and Osritha buckled on my sword for me, for she had felt and taken it. Halfden opened the door and went out into the night, speaking low to one whom I could not see; and so I bade farewell to her whom I loved so dearly, not knowing if I should ever look on her again.

But she bade me hope ever, for nor she nor I knew what the days to come might bring us.

"Ready," said Halfden; "follow me as if you were a courtman till we come to the outer gate."

Then with Osritha's handclasp still warm on mine I went out and followed him, and she sought the maiden who waited beside the door, and was gone.

When we came to the great gates, they were shut. The sounds of feasting went on in the hall, and the red light glared from the high windows. Forgotten was all but revelling--and the guard who kept the gate was Raud the forester, my friend. He opened the gates a little, and we three slipped out and stood for a moment together. The night was very dark, and the wind howled and sang through the stockading, and none seemed to be about the place.

"This is the best I may do for you, my brother. Go with Raud to his house, and thence he and Rolf and Thoralf your shield man, who all love you, will take you even to Hedeby, where there are Christian folk who will help you to the sea and find passage to England. And fare you well, my brother, for the days we longed for in your land will never be--"

"Come in the ship to England, that so there may be good times even yet," I said.

"Aye, to England I shall surely come--not to seek you, but at Ingvar's bidding. Yet to East Anglia for your sake I will not come."

Then he grasped my hand again in farewell, and he went inside the gates and closed them, and Raud and I went quickly to his place.

There we found those two other good friends of mine waiting, and they told me that all was well prepared to save them from the wrath of Ingvar, for they had been bidden to carry messages, and other men of the crew who lived far off would do this for them, for I feared for their lives also when the flight was known.

Long was the way to Hedeby, where Ansgar the Bishop had built the first church in all Denmark. But we won there at last and in safety. And there Ansgar's folk received me well, and I parted from my three comrades, not without grief, so that I asked them to take service with us in England. Almost they consented, but Rolf and Thoralf had wives and children, and Raud would by no means leave his brother.

Now in a few days, a company of merchants went from Hedeby with goods for England, and with them I went; and in no long time I came into Ingild's house by London Bridge, and was once more at home as the second week in May began.

CHAPTER XI. THE COMING OF INGVAR'S HOST.

Aught but joy did I look for in my homecoming, but it was all too like that of Halfden, my friend.

No need to say how my kind godfather met me as one come back from the dead, nor how I sent gifts back to Ansgar's people, who sorely needed help in those days.

But very gently the old man told me that Elfric my father was dead, passing suddenly but a month since, while by his side sat Ulfkytel the Earl, blaming himself for his blindness and for his haste in not waiting for the king's judgment, and yet bidding my father take heart, for he had never known his ways of justice fail. And he asked forgiveness also, for there had been a deadly feud concerning this between him and my people, so that but for Eadmund the King there would have been fighting. Yet when one told Ulfkytel that men held that my father's heart broke at my loss, the great earl had made haste to come and see him, and to say these things. So they made peace at last.

When I knew this it seemed to me that I had lost all, and for long I cared for nothing, going about listless, so that Ingild feared that I too should grow sick and die. But I was young and strong, and this could not last, and at length I grew reconciled to things as they were, and Ingild would speak with me of all that I had seen in Denmark.

Now when I told him what I feared of the coming of Ingvar's host he grew grave, and asked many things about it.

"Ethelred the King is at Reading," he said; "let us go and speak to him of this matter."

So we rode thither, and that ride through the pleasant Thames-side country was good for me. And when we came to the great house where the king lay, we had no trouble in finding the way to him, for Ingild was well known, and one of the great Witan ^{xviii} also.

I told Ethelred the king of England all that I had learned, and he was troubled. Only we three were in his council chamber, and to us he spoke freely.

"What can I do? Much I fear that East Anglia must fight her own battles at this time. Pressed am I on the west by Welsh and Dane, and my Wessex men have their hands full with watching both. And it is hard to get men of one kingdom to fight alongside those of another, even yet. And this I know full well, that until a host lands I can gather no levy, for our men will not wait for a foe that may never come."

I knew that his words were true, and could say nothing. Only I thought that it had been better if we had held to our Mercian overlords in Ecgberht's time than fight for this Wessex sovereign who was far from us; for that unhealed feud with Mercia seemed to leave us alone now.

"Yet," said Ethelred, "these men are not such great chiefs, as it seems. Maybe their threats will come to naught."

But I told him of that great gathering at the sacrifice, and said also that I thought that needs must those crowded folks seek riches elsewhere than at home. Then he asked me many things of the corn and cattle and richness of the land; and when I told him what I had seen, he looked at me and Ingild.

"Such things as crowding and poverty and hardness drove us from that shore hither. I pray that the same be not coming on us that we brought to the ancient people the Welsh, whose better land we took and now hold."

In a week thereafter I rode away homeward, and came first to Framlingham, where Eadmund our own king was. Very glad was he to see me safely home again.

"Now am I, with good Ingild your other godfather, in Elfric's place toward you," he said; "think of me never as a king, but as a father, Wulfric, my son."

And he bade me take my place as Thane of Reedham, confirming me in all rights that had been my father's. With him, too, was the great earl, and he begged my forgiveness for his doubt of me, though he was proud that his strange manner of finding truth was justified. Good friends were Ulfkytel and I after that, though he knew not that in my mind was the thought of Osritha, to whom he had, as it were, sent me.

Now every day brought fear to me that Ingvar's host was on its way overseas to fall on us. And this I told to Eadmund and the earl, who could not but listen to me. Yet they said that the peace between us and the Danes was sure, and that even did they come we should be ready. When I pressed them indeed, they sent round word to the sheriffs to be on the watch, and so were content. For our king was ever a man of peace, hating the name of war and bloodshed, and only happy in seeing to the welfare of his people, giving them good laws, and keeping up the churches and religious houses so well that there were none better to be found than ours in all England.

This pleased me not altogether, for I knew now how well prepared for war the Danes were, and I would fain have had our men trained in arms as they. But my one voice prevailed not at all, and after a while I went down to Reedham, and there bided with my mother and Eadgyth, very lonely and sad at heart in the place where I had looked for such happiness with my father and Lodbrok and Halfden at first, and now of late, for a few days, with Osritha, and Halfden in Lodbrok's place.

For all this was past as a dream passes, and to me there seemed to hang over the land the shadow of the terrible raven banner, which Osritha had helped to work for Lodbrok and his host, in the days before she dreamed that it might be borne against a land she had cause to love.

Ever as the days went by I would seek the shipmen who came to Reedham on their way up the rivers, so that I might hear news from the Danish shore, where Osritha was thinking of me, till at last I heard from a Frisian that three kings had gathered a mighty host, and were even now on their way to England.

I asked the names of those three, and he told me, even as I had feared, that they were called Ingvar and Hubba and Halfden; and so I knew that the blow was falling, and that Ingvar had stirred up other chiefs to join him, and so when the host gathered at some great Thing, he and his brothers had been hailed kings over the mighty following that should do their bidding in the old Danish way. For a Danish king is king over men, and land that he shall rule is not of necessity ^{xix}.

Again I warned Eadmund, and again he sent his messages to Ulfkytel the Earl and to the sheriffs, and for a few weeks the levies watched along the shore of the Wash; and then as no ships came, went home, grumbling, as is an East Anglian's wont, and saying that they would not come out again for naught, either for king or earl.

Now after that I spent many a long hour in riding northward along the coast, watching for the sails of the fleet, and at other times I would sit on our little watch tower gazing over the northern sea, and fearing ever when the white wing of a gull flashed against the skyline that they were there. And at last, as I sat dreaming and watching, one bright day, my heart gave a great leap, for far off to the northward were the sails of what were surely the first ships of the fleet.

I watched for a while, for it was ill giving a false alarm and turning out our unwilling levies for naught, for each time they came up it grew harder to keep them, and each time fewer came. In an hour I knew that there were eight ships and no more, and that they were heading south steadily, not as if intending to land in the Wash, but as though they would pass on to other shores than ours. And they were not Ingvar's fleet, for he alone had ten ships in his ship garth.

They were broad off the mouth of our haven presently, and maybe eight miles away, when one suddenly left the rest and bore up for shore--sailing wonderfully with the wind on her starboard bow as only a viking's ship can sail--for a trading vessel can make no way to windward save she has a strong tide with her.

She came swiftly, and at last I knew my own ship again, and thought that Halfden had come with news of peace, and maybe to take me to sea with him, and so at last back to Osritha. And my heart beat high with joy, for no other thought than that would come to me for a while, and when she was but two miles off shore, I thought that I would put out to meet and bring the ship into the haven; for he knew not the sands, though indeed I had given him the course and marks--well enough for a man like Thormod--when I was with him. And there came over me a great longing to be once more on the well-known deck with these rough comrades who had so well stood by me.

But suddenly she paid off from the wind, running free again to the southward down the coast, and edging away to rejoin the other ships. And as she did so her broad pennon was run up and dipped thrice, as in salute; and so she passed behind the headlands of the southern coast and was lost to my sight.

I bided there in my place, downcast and wondering, until the meaning of it all came to me; remembering Halfden's last words, that he would not fall on East Anglia. Now he had shown me that his promise was kept. He had left the fleet, and was taking his own way with those who would follow him.

Yet if he had eight ships, what would Ingvar's host be like? Greater perhaps than any that had yet come to our land, and the most cruel. For he would come, not for plunder only, but hating the name of England, hating the name of Christian, and above all hating the land where his father had been slain.

I climbed down from the tower, and found my people talking of the passing ships, and rejoicing that they had gone. Already had some of them piled their goods in waggons ready for flight, and some were armed. Then, as in duty bound, I sent men in haste to the earl at Caistor to report this, telling him also that the great fleet of which this was a part was surely by this token on its way.

By evening word came back from him. He had sure news from Lynn that the great fleet had gone into the Humber to join the host at York, and that we need fear nothing. Men said that there were twenty thousand men, and that there were many chiefs besides those that I had named. This, he said, seemed over many to be possible, but it did not concern us, for they were far away.

Now, when I thought how the wind had held at any quarter rather than north or east for long weeks, it seemed to me likely that it was this only that had kept them from us, and that the going into Humber was no part of Ingvar's plan, but done as of necessity. For to bring over so mighty a host he must have swept up every vessel of all kinds for many a score miles along the shores. And they would be heavy laden with men, so that he must needs make the first port possible. Yet for a time we should be left in quiet.

Now I must say how things went at home, for my sister's wedding with Egfrid had been put off first by the doubt of my own fate, and then by the mourning for my father's death. Yet the joy of my return had brought fresh plans for it, and now the new house at Hoxne was nearly ready; so that both Egfrid and his folk were anxious that there should be no more delay.

I, too, when the coming of the Danes seemed a thing that might be any day, thought it well that Eadgyth should rather be inland at Hoxne, whence flight southward could be made in good time, than at Reedham, where the first landing might well be looked for. But when the fear passed for a while by reason of the news from Northumbria, the time was fixed for the end of November, just before the Advent season, and not earlier, because of the time of mourning.

So the summer wore through slowly to me, for I was sad at heart, having lost so much. And ever from beyond the Wash and from Mercia came news of Ingvar's host. The Northumbrian king was slain, and a Dane set in his place; and Burhred of Mercia bowed to the Danes, and owned them for lords; and at last Ethelred of Wessex came to himself and sent levies to meet the host, but too late, for Mercia was lost to him. Yet Eadmund our king, and even Ulfkytel, deemed that we were safe as ever behind our fenland barrier, fearing naught so long as no landing was made from across the Wash.

Yet when November came in, and at Egfrid's house all was bustle and preparation, we heard that Bardney was burnt, and Swineshead, and then Medehamstede ^{xx}. And the peril was close on us, and but just across our border.

"No matter," said men to one another. "It will be a hard thing for Danes to cross the great fens to come hither. They will turn aside into Mercia's very heart, and then the Wessex folk will rise."

But I feared, and two days before the wedding went to Harleston, where the king was, and urged him to have forces along the great wall we call Woden's Dyke even yet.

"Let us see your wedding first, Wulfric," he said. "Eadgyth would be sorely grieved if I were not there."

For he lay at Harleston to be near at hand, as the wedding was to be from the house of Egfrid's father, because Reedham seemed as yet a house of sorrow. And I was glad when the Thane asked that it should take place at Hoxne, and it was safer also.

Surely never moved host so swiftly as Ingvar's, for even as I went, heavily enough, from Eadmund's presence, a man spurred into the town saying that Earl Ulfkytel faced the Danes with a fair levy gathered in haste, between us and Wisbech. They had crossed the fens where no man dreamed that they might come, and were upon us as if from the skies.

Now Eadmund made no more delay, but all that night went forth the summons of the war arrow, and the men mustered in force at last in Thetford town, and I spurred back to Hoxne and found the thane, and spoke to him.

"Let the wedding go on," I said, "for the Danes are yet far, and must pass the earl and us also before they come hither. Now must I be with the king, but if I may, and Ulfkytel holds them back, I shall be at the wedding. And if it must be, I will warn you to fly, and so let Egfrid take his bride and my mother and his own folk southward to Colchester or London."

That, he thought, was well, and no word of fear or haste hindered the wedding gathering. Only some of the great thanes who should have been there were with the king or earl, and it seemed that the number of guests would be small.

I rode to Thetford, bidding Eadgyth look for me on the morrow in good time, and saying that the king would surely come also. But when I came to the town I knew that neither he nor I should be at Hoxne, for the Danes had scattered the levy, and Ulfkytel the great earl was slain, and with him many another friend of mine. And the men said that the Danes were marching swiftly onward, ever nearing Thetford, and burning and wasting all in their track.

We marched out of the town to meet them, for we had a good force behind us, and the men were confident of victory with the king himself to lead them. And he was cheerful also, and said to me, as I armed him:

"I would not have you leave the wedding; howbeit, if we beat back the Danes, which is a matter in the hands of the Lord of Hosts, both you and I will be there in time tomorrow."

Our mounted men met the Danes that evening -- the night before Eadgyth's wedding day--and we slept in our armour on Thetford heath waiting for them. And in the early morning our outposts were driven back on us, and the Danes were close on their heels.

Now Eadmund told me that I should not stand by him today, for so soon as the battle was over I must go to Hoxne, either with news of victory, or to bid them fly, and he would not keep me.

"Not so," he answered; "I would bid you stand out of the battle for sweet Eadgyth's sake, but that I know you would not obey me."

And he smiled at me as he went on the great white horse he always rode, to draw up the men.

They cheered when he spoke to them, and I thought that they would fight well. Aye, and so they did, in their fierce untrained way. Many a long day it was since we of East Anglia stood in battle array, and the last time was against our own kin, save that now and again the men of some shoreward places would rise to beat off a Danish or Norse ship.

Now were the foes in sight, and they ranged up in close order when they saw we were ready. More than half their force was mounted, for the Lindsey uplands and marshes had given them horses enough of the best in England. And this was terrible, that over the host wheeled erne and raven and kite, as knowing to what feast the flapping of yon Raven banner called them.

Foremost of all rode a mighty chief on a black horse, and I saw that it was Ingvar himself, the king of the Danish host. Well I knew the armour, for it was that which he had worn at the great sacrifice, though now it shone no longer, but was dulled with the stains of many a hard fight. Now, too, round his helm ran the gold circlet of the king.

"Know you yon great man?" asked Eadmund of me; for I would not leave him, but stood before him in my place.

Now I thought that was of little use, but I would do the king's bidding, and asked what I should say.

So I went forward, and stood at a bowshot's length from our people, leaning on the axe that Lodbrok had made me, and there waited till the Danes came on. And presently Ingvar saw me, and knowing that I was one who would speak with the leader, rode up, looking curiously at me as he came.

"Odin! It is Wulfric!" he said. "Now, skoal to you, Wulfric! But I would that you were not here."

"How is that, Jarl?" I asked; but I had ever heard that the jarl was in high good humour before a fight.

"I would not fight with you, for you have been our guest. And many a man have I questioned since yesterday, and all men say that you were my father's friend. It was a true story that you told me."

"I speak of yourself alone," he said, "as for land and king and people--that is a different matter."

"What?" he asked fiercely. "Is the life of Lodbrok, my father, worth but the death of a hound like Beorn? Stand aside, Wulfric, and let me have my revenge in full."

Now, seeing that our talk was earnest, there rode up another Danish chief, and it was Guthrum, the man who had seemed to take my part at the idol feast. I was glad to see him come at this moment.

"Here is Halfden's friend," said Ingvar to him, "and he, forsooth, would have us go in peace."

"Why, so we will, if they make it worth our while," said Guthrum, nodding to me.

"It seems to me that you will have to fight before you take him," I said plainly; for no man in all the Anglian ranks would have listened to that.

"That is too much," said Guthrum. "Tell him to own you as overlord and pay scatt ^{xxi} to us, holding the kingdom from you, and that will save fighting--and surely the whole land will be weregild enough for Jarl Lodbrok."

So I went back and told Eadmund, knowing full well what his answer would be. And it was as I thought.

"Go and tell this Ingvar that I will not give my land into the hands of the heathen, or own them as lords."

Now what I told Ingvar and Guthrum was this only, knowing that to give the full message was to enrage Ingvar:

Ingvar reined round his horse to go to his own men, and he and Guthrum left me standing there. I was turning away also, when the hoof beats of one horse stayed, and Ingvar called me in the voice he would use when most friendly with me.

"Wulfric," he said, "glad was I to find you gone, for I should surely have had to slay you before the shrine; but Thor is far off now, and I have forgotten that, and only do I remember that good comrade to us all you have been in hall and forest. And ere I sailed--one whom you know--that one who stayed my hand from Beorn--made me promise--aye, and swear by my sword--that you at least I would not harm. And I will not. Stand aside from this fight."

Now, had I not known the great love and reverence in which those three wild brothers held Osritha, I should have been amazed at these words from Ingvar; but there is somewhat of good to be found in every man.

"I must fight for my land, Ingvar, but I also would fain not fight against yourself. Where stand you in your line?"

Now we both returned to our places, and again Eadmund, after I had told him that we must fight, asked me to stand out.

"Until after the wedding, my king," I said; "but you are in my father's place to me always. Should I have left him?"

So I said no more, but stood in my place before him, for I loved him now best of all men in the world since my father was gone, and it seemed well to me to die beside him if die he must.

Now our king gave the word, crying, "Forward, Christian men!" and we shouted and charged with a good will on the Danes, and the battle began. Hard fighting it was on both sides, but our men in their want of order jostled and hindered one another, so that I saw more than one struck down by mischance by his own comrades. But the Danes kept their even line, bent round into half a circle so that we could not outflank them, and our numbers were nearly equal.

Men have said that I did well in that fight, but so did we all, each in his way. All I know of my own deeds is that I kept my own life, and that once a ring of men stood before me out of reach of my axe, not one seeming to care to be first within its swing. And ever Eadmund's clear voice cheered on his men from behind me.

So the battle went on from the first daylight for an hour's space, and then the steadfastness of the Danish line began to strike terror into our men, and the Danish horsemen charged on our flanks and broke us up; and then all at once a panic fell on our levies, and they wavered, and at once the horsemen were among them everywhere, and the field was lost to us. Before I knew what had befallen I was hurried away in a dense throng of our men, who swept me from before the king, and I was soon in Thetford streets, where I thought that surely we should have rallied, for there is no stronger town or better walled in all East Anglia.

In the marketplace sat Eadmund on his white horse, unhelmed that the men might know him yet living, for in the flight word had gone round that he had fallen, and now the men seemed to be taking heart and gathering round him.

But even as I reached him, a fresh throng of flying men came down the street from the gate next the Danes, and after them came a score of the terrible horsemen, driving a hundred like sheep before them. At that sight the few who were gathering fled also, leaving the king and myself and four other thanes alone. I was the only one on foot.

Then one of those thanes grasped the bridle of the king's horse and led him away, crying:

So they rode, against the king's will as one might see, from the place, and went away towards the southern gate of the town. And seeing that the Danes were in the town I knew that all was lost, and that here I might stay no longer if Eadgyth was to be saved.

I ran to where I had left my horse, and mounted and fled also, following the king, for that gate led to the road along the south bank of the river. I knew not if he had crossed the bridge or no, but over the river was my way, and I had my own work to be done, and some twenty miles to be covered as quickly as might be. Glad was I that I had chosen to fight on foot that day, for my horse was fresh.

Terrible it was to see the panic in the town as the poor folk knew that the Danes were on them. They filled the road down which I must go, thronging in wild terror to the gates, and I will not remember the faces of that crowd, for they were too piteous.

Glad I was to be free from them at last, and upon the road where I could ride freely, for as they left the town they took to the woods and riverside swamps, and save for a few horsemen flying like myself, the road was soon clear. Then, too, these horsemen struck away from the road one by one, and at last I rode on alone.

Now my one thought was for those at Hoxne, and to urge them to instant flight, and I thought that even now Humbert the Bishop would be in the little church, waiting for the bride to come.

Then I would hasten the more, for to reach the church from Egfrid's father's house the river Dove must be crossed; and I would keep them from returning to this side if I could be in time, for we might break down the timber-built bridge and so delay the crossing of the Danes. Yet they might be for days in Thetford before they began to raid in the country.

Swiftly I rode on, for my horse was a good one and fresh, and at last, after many miles were passed, I came to a place where I could see a long stretch of road before me. There rode the king on his white horse, and with him those four thanes. I could not mistake that party, and I thought I knew where they were going. The king would warn my people himself, and so take refuge beyond Hoxne, on the other side of the river, at South Elmham, with Bishop Humbert.

I rode after, but I gained little on them; nor did I care much, for the king would do all that I might. In a few minutes more I should know if he crossed Hoxne bridge, and if he did so they were safe.

I lost sight of the party as they came into a wood, and there my horse stumbled. He had lost a shoe. That was little to me now, but it kept me back; and now I heard the quick gallop of horses behind me, and looked to see who came, for I thought that more fugitives followed, most likely. I had heard the sound coming on the wind more than once before as I rode on the wayside grass.

They were Danes. Twelve of them there were, and foremost of all rode Ingvar on his black horse. Well for the king that they had no change of steeds, but had ridden hotfoot after him from the battlefield. Now their horses were failing them, but they would take me, and delay would give the king another chance; and I was half-minded to stay and fight. Then I thought of Hoxne, and I put spurs to my horse and rode on again.

Now I came in sight of Hoxne bridge, and half feared that I should see the bridal train passing over; but many men were even now leaving the bridge, going towards the church, and I knew that they were there. But of Eadmund and his thanes I saw nothing--only a lame white horse, that I thought like his, grazed quietly in a field by the roadside, so that for a moment my eyes went to it, thinking to see king and thanes there.

Ingvar was not a mile behind me, and I spurred on. And now I won to the turning that leads to the thane's house whence the company had passed, and a few villagers stood at the road corner. Them I asked how long it was since the bride had gone, and they stared at me in stupid wonder, making no answer. Then I bade them fly, for the Danes were coming; and at that they laughed, looking at one another slyly, proud of their own fancied wisdom. So I left them and rode on.

Even as I came to the hill down to the bridge my horse stumbled and almost fell, and when I gathered him up, not losing my seat, I knew he was beaten. And now I halted for good, unslinging my axe, and waiting to fight and hinder the Danes from going further, as yet. It was all I could do.

Hand over hand they came up to me, and now Hoxne bells rang out in merry peals as the bride and bridegroom left the church. The service was over, and unless our king had warned them, they would be coming back over the bridge in a few minutes. Yet, if he had warned them, surely the bells had not pealed out thus.

Now I heard the music play from across the water, and I heard the shouts of the people--and all the while the hoofs of Ingvar's horses thundered nearer and nearer. Then they came over the little rise in the road and were on me with levelled spears.

I got my horse between them and me, across the narrow roadway, and hove up my axe and waited. But when Ingvar saw who I was, he held up his hand, and his men threw up their spear points and halted, thinking perhaps that I was the king.

I saw that their horses were done, and not knowing which way the king had gone answered truly.

And those silly folk were yet standing at the corner, maybe thinking us belated wedding guests, and the men took one, dragging him to their chief. But the man said that he had seen no horsemen pass. Truly he had heard some, but all men were at the house door waiting for the bride to come forth, and paid no heed.

So the king had passed by before the procession set out, and I knew not what to think.