"The queen takes this matter very easily."
"The trouble is to come," I answered; "she thinks that she is yet on her journey."
"It is no fault of ours that she is not," said he. "Maybe it is best thus. I suppose that she will understand how things are when we reach the shore. What will be done with us?"
"Let us ask Egil," I said. "I think we might have fallen into worse hands than his. It is in my mind that he likes not his errand."
So we went aft to the chief, who stood beside Bertric. And when I came to him he said, pointing westward:
"Here comes Earl Wulfnoth, as I think."
Then I saw three large ships beating up to us, and the sail of one bore, painted on it, the device of a fighting warrior, Earl Wulfnoth's own ensign.
Now, on this I had a hope that we might be rescued by him, and my face must have shown as much, while Elfric glanced at me with the same thought written plainly in his eyes.
"I will not risk meeting the earl, though I do not think that he will interfere with us," Egil said; "but we are to windward of him, and can do as we like.
"Now, I have been wondering what I shall do with you, Redwald."
"Let me be taken with the queen and the athelings," I said. "What will you do with them?"
"They must go to Cnut," he answered; "but I am thinking that that will be bad for you."
"Why?"
"Maybe it is not my business, but I think that I owe you a good turn for letting me off at Leavenheath. If I take you to Cnut, Streone will have somewhat to say about you--and he is a great man with our king just now."
"Well, what if he has. He knows me well enough, and cares nought about me," I answered.
"Cares enough about you to have told Cnut to hang you as soon as he gets you," Egil said. "I suppose you have offended him in some way."
Then Elfric said:
"That is so. Redwald escaped from his hands at Stamford. We heard many tales about it at Peterborough. They say that Eadmund the Martyr came bodily and saved him out of a house beset by the earl's men."
"If there is one dead man that we Danes have to fear, it is that king," Egil said. "Is this tale true?"
And he stared at me as at one who had dealings with the other world.
I knew that my story must have come into this shape through some tales that the goldsmith had set about.
"Hardly," said I; "but it is a long story. Maybe Eadmund the Saint had more to do with it than I know; but I saw him not."
"Well then, Redwald, it seems unsafe for you to go near Streone--"
"It will be unsafe for him," I said savagely, for my temper was sorely tried by my failure, as I have said.
Egil laughed.
"Why, then, all the more must I keep you out of his way."
"Hang me and have done," I said; "I am of no more use."
"That," quoth Egil, "is what I thought concerning myself when you had me down in the fight. Now I am here to let you go, and bid you take heart. This is but chance of war, and one must take it as it comes."
Now it was so plain that the honest chief wished me well, that I could not but thank him for his words, though, indeed, just at this time I seemed to care little for what became of me.
"You are a generous foe, Egil Thorarinsson," I said.
"You and I shall be good friends some day, as I hope," he said; "meanwhile we will be fair foes. You slew me not, because I had fallen more or less by chance. Therefore I will let you go because you have fallen into my hands by chance. I will only lay this on you, that you shall bide with Earl Wulfnoth for two months before you fight against us again."
I was full of wonder at this, for he might well have made me promise to take up arms against Cnut no more, and I could have done no less than promise it, seeing that I was in his hands.
"Why, I must tie you down for a while," he said laughing at my face of doubt.
"Nay, Egil, I do but wonder that you set me free at all," I said.
"Is that so? I have wondered that you slew me not in the heat of battle. Well, I will add this, that if we fall on Earl Wulfnoth you may fight for him."
I held out my hand, and Egil took it.
"You have my word, Egil; you are most generous," I said.
Then he glanced at sword Foe's Bane.
"Some day you and I, maybe, will have a good fight for your sword in all friendliness," he said.
"Surely I thought you would take it back," I cried. "I feared so, for it was my father's sword."
"Aha! I knew there was somewhat strange about that blade," he said. "Tell me what story it has."
I told him in a few words about the winning of the sword from the grave mound by Thorgeir, my grandfather, and asked Egil how he came by it.
"I bought it from a man after Nacton fight, and I have never had any luck with it. I was sure it was a magic sword of some sort; for it let go three men whom I should surely have slain with any other blade. It seemed to turn in my hand. Such swords as these will not be used by any other than he who can win them from the owner."
"Ottar, Olaf's scald, said that it would draw the holder to me," I said; "but I would not believe it."
"You English have forgotten the old sayings," Egil said. "Now you know that he is right; keep the sword therefore."
Then I said:
"If I must die a bed death, Egil, the sword shall be sent to you, for I think that you have the most claim to it."
He grew red with pleasure at my saying, and Elfric broke in on our talk.
"I would that I might see many more meetings of brave foes like this. Then would peace come very shortly."
"Why, father," said Egil, "Redwald and I have not any hate for each other, though we must fight on opposite sides."
"That is well. I would that it were ever so."
Then Egil changed his tone, for we were nearing shore. The ships he had seen were still far away, beating southward now.
"Are these maidens nuns, or but in disguise, father?" he said.
Elfric answered not at once, and I said:
"Three are nuns, two only are disguised. You will not take the queen's maidens from her?"
"Not I," he answered. "I think that even with the abbot's help and theirs I shall have trouble enough with the queen when she finds that the shore we reach is not Normandy."
"Shall you take me?" asked Elfric.
"I must take all but my own friend here, and the three holy women; I will not hinder them. They can find shelter in Selsea or Chichester--a nun has always friends and a house--if Redwald will see them safely to the door," Egil said very kindly.
Then he bade the men get out the boat, which was a good one, and fitted for carrying cargo from ship to shore. Two of Bertric's men were to go ashore with me and the nuns, taking messages also to the Bosham folk of what had befallen the ship.
"You will scare the wife if you say you have fallen into the hands of the Danes," Egil said laughing at the shipmaster.
"It is the truth," Bertric said stoutly. "'Tis the doing of yon cat."
"You shall come to no harm with us, and your ship shall come back to Bosham shortly. We have no war with your earl, and all will be well. Tell them, therefore, that it is thus. King Cnut is generous to all who fight not against him."
When I heard that I began to see why our people went over to his side so readily, and it seemed to me that he was fighting not only with sword, but also with policy.
"Now call your nuns, father," Egil said.
"May I have one word with Redwald first?" the abbot asked.
"Tell him what you will," Egil answered, and went forward.
He called one of the priests and told him to bid the three nuns come forth.
Then Elfric said to me:
"Two of these women are nuns, the third, she who stood by you so well even now--saving your life, moreover--is not. She is the orphan daughter of a thane, whom her guardians begged me to take to Normandy, finding her a place in the queen's household or in some convent, if that might not be. She is friendless. But I think she may as well go with the nuns to Selsea. Bid her wait there till she hears from me--unless some lady will take pity on her and give her shelter."
"She will be more likely to take the vows, as have so many maidens of today who are in her case," I said. "I will do all for the nuns and her that I can."
The three sisters came out now. Two were weeping, and they were the nuns. The third was flushed and looked troubled, and she cast a glance back into the dark cabin. I heard the queen's voice speaking fast to her, as it would seem, and she shrank away as if dreading it.
Elfric went to meet them, and then the queen herself came through the cabin door stooping, for it was not high.
"This is your doing," she said to the abbot. "Am I to be left without any attendants?"
"My queen," the good man said, "we can take the sisters no further with us. They must go ashore."
The queen looked at the coast, which was plain enough now. It was certain that she had no knowledge that we were returning to England. That the ship was on another tack meant nothing to her.
"Why cannot they bide here and go on land with me? We cannot be more than an hour in reaching the harbour," and she pointed to Selsea.
"Tell her, father, I pray you," said the maiden in a low voice. "She believes that we are even now nearing her home."
Then I thought that this might come more easily from myself, seeing that Elfric had to stay with her, and I stood before her, and spoke.
"My Queen, that is not the Norman shore which you see. The Danes, into whose hands we have fallen, are taking us back to England."
As I said this, the queen's face grew white with rage, and she looked from Elfric to me, speechless. On the deck above stood Egil, and he caught my eye, and looked ruefully at us.
"What!" she said, "has Cnut bought you also? Is there no man whom I can trust?"
That was the most cruel thing that she could have said, but I knew what despair might lie behind her anger, and I answered nothing--nor did Elfric. We waited for the storm to pass.
"Ill it was that Ethelred trusted me to your hands--" she began again.
But there was one who would not bear this. The friendless maiden spoke plainly for us.
"Queen," she said, "I have borne your reproaches to myself in silence, but I cannot bear that these brave servants of yours should be blamed. Look at the abbot's torn and dusty robes, look at the thane's care-worn face--are they in the plight of men who are bribed?"
But the queen made no answer, and her face was like stone as she looked on none of us, gazing straight before her.
"What lies on yonder deck?" the girl went on, pointing to where the two bodies lay under their covering. "It is the thane's sword and risk of life that stayed them from laying hands on you. Does a bought man slay his buyers?"
Still the queen was silent, and then I said:
"I think that you misjudge us, my queen. Had we wished to betray you it would have been long ere this that the Danes would have been summoned to take you."
I do not think that she heard me, and I am glad, for I spoke in anger. I saw her lean against the bulkhead, and her hand sought her heart, and she reeled a little. The maiden sprang forward to support her, for it seemed as if she would fall. But she recovered in a moment, and shook herself free of the girl's clasp.
"I am wrong, good friends," she said. "Now I know from what you have shielded me all this long journey through. What will they do with me?"
And she began to weep silently, yet she would not let the maiden touch her.
Elfric spoke then in his gentle voice.
"We cannot blame you, my queen, for the blow is heavy; yet the chief who has taken us is a true warrior and kindly, you need fear nought."
Then came Egil from the fore deck, and bowed to the queen, and said:
"I must take you to Cnut the king, lady; and his commands are that you are to be treated as becomes the sister of Duke Richard. I am here to see that it is so."
Then the queen's mood changed, and she was once more herself.
"You shall answer to my brother for all you do," she said in her proud way.
"I have to answer to Jarl Thorkel and to King Cnut," Egil said simply. "The duke is no lord of mine."
Thereat the queen paid no sort of heed to him, but spoke to me.
"I will tell my brother hereafter of your great care for me, my thane. Why must you leave me now?"
Surely I should have asked Egil to let me stay, but he knew best what was safe for me.
"I will not take either thane or nuns, lady," he said. "They must leave you even now; time is short."
She glanced coldly at the chief, and answered him by speaking to me. She had brought herself now to see that she was powerless.
"Then I must say farewell, Redwald. In better days I will not forget your service," and then she smiled a little, and gave me her hand to kiss as I knelt before her, adding: "I think that I have been an ill-natured travelling companion at times."
Then she turned away quickly and sought the cabin. But she said no word to the maiden who had made the journey lighter to her, and I saw that this grieved her sorely.
Now I took hasty leave of Elfric and the athelings, and sad was I at parting with them. But I told Eadward that Egil was worthy of his charge, and a generous foe.
"You will not blame me that this matter has failed even at the last, my prince," I said.
"Not I, Redwald, good friend; you and I will laugh over it at some time hereafter," the atheling said.
I shook my head.
"It has been waste trouble and pains," I said sorrowfully.
"That it has not been," quoth Elfric. "No duty well and truly done is lost in the end, though it may seem to be so at the time. I shall remember my guardian in this journey all my life long, and the queen shall remember presently. You have been most patient. Lose not patience now. Be of good cheer rather that things are none so ill as they might be."
So the good man strove to hearten me, for I thought meanly enough of myself at that time, because I had been so certain that all was well, and now my pride was humbled. Maybe it was good for me that this should be so, but good things are passing bitter if all are like this. Lastly, he gave me his blessing, and I joined the sisters in the boat, and she was cast off, while at that moment the black kitten came to the rail and leapt in after us, which I liked not at all.
Then the great ship slipped away, her helm went down, and she headed away out to sea to escape a meeting with Godwine's vessels that had now gone about for the shore again, beating to windward for Bosham. As she passed us I saw the abbot and Eadward wave to us from the fore deck, and Egil lifted his hand in salute from beside Bertric at the helm.
Then they were gone beyond our reach, and we could no longer make them out. Our rowers were bending to their oars, and the boat was making good way enough, shoreward.
I do not know how I can say enough of Egil's friendliness to me, for I found my armour on the floor of the boat alongside the few things the poor women had. Helm and shield and axe too were there. He was as one of the heroes, of whom Ottar sang, in his way to me. Then I grew light hearted in that strange way that comes after long strain of fearing the worst, when the worst is known and it is not so terrible after all. I had no fear for the queen, and I was free, and going to Godwine and his father who were my friends. Also I should see Penhurst and Relf again, most likely.
Now when that memory came to me, suddenly I thought that I must see Sexberga. And it was strange to me that I had no pleasure in that thought. Most of all I hoped that Olaf would put in at Pevensea on his way to Normandy. It was likely enough.
So I sat and pondered, not sadly, but looking forward ever, and, as I say, feeling that a load was lifted from me. Then at last my thoughts came back from myself, and I turned to the sisters and told them that the queen was safe, if a prisoner. They need not grieve for her. The two nuns wept, but the thane's daughter smiled a little, and said, fondling the cat meanwhile on her lap:
"In truth, I think that the queen will be happier in making Egil and his Danes obey her in little services than she has been in having to be guided by yourself and the abbot."
"It has been hard for her," I answered; "but she owes you much, as I think."
"She hates me," the girl said, half tearfully, "because I was the only one who dared speak plainly to her."
"Elfric and I owe you much, Sister Sexberga," said I, naming her as I had thought of her through all the journey, because I recalled so many times when we had looked to her for help in persuading the queen to common sense,
She looked astonished at this, and smiled oddly, and then I saw what I had done.
"Forgive me," I said hastily; "I know not your name. That is what I ever called you to myself when I had to think of you in ordering matters."
"Why 'Sexberga'?" she said, looking out seawards.
"Truly I thought you like a lady of that name whom I knew. But now the likeness is gone," I said.
"Maybe I ought to be proud thereof," she said coldly enough.
"I will not say that," I answered. "Let me know your name that I may remember it."
"My name is Uldra," she said, without looking at me, and flushing a little, and then busying herself with the kitten's ears.
"That is a Norse name, lady," said I.
"Aye--and a heathen one. But it is the best I have."
Then I said, feeling that I could not say aright what I would:
"Lady Uldra, I have to thank you for saving my life today. Yours was a brave deed."
She shivered a little, at the thought of what she had done, as I think, for the heat of anger had gone.
"I am glad I was of use," she answered. "What are we to do when we come to land?"
"I will take you and the sisters to the great nunnery that good St. Wilfrith founded. There you will be welcomed."
So I said, but as I looked at her I thought what a prison the nunnery would be to such a maiden as this. Yet it was all that could be done.
"That will be peaceful," she said, but the tears seemed close at hand.
Now one of the men spoke to the other, looking back over his shoulder at him, and then when he was answered he turned to me.
"Master," he said, "tide serves ill for Selsea, and it will be easy for us to go straight up the haven to Bosham. The flood tide is strong in with us. May we do so?"
"Is there any nunnery there?" I asked.
"Why, yes, master--a little one."
There too was Wulfnoth's great house, where I should be welcome, as I knew. So I asked the sisters if this would suit them.
"One place is as another to us," they replied.
So we went on up the haven, and it was a long pull, so that it was late in the afternoon when we came in sight of the town.
Now I had said no more to Uldra about ourselves--save for a few words concerning sea and tides and the like--but had tried to cheer her, and myself also, by speaking of how Cnut would treat the queen--namely, that it was most likely to be in high honour, lest the duke should fall on him.
But as we sighted our journey's end, I bethought myself.
"Lady," I said, "is there aught that I can do for you in sending messages to your folk? There will be chapmen and the like going Londonwards shortly, when the siege is over."
"I have no friends there," she said.
"You shall bid me do what you will for you when I am free to go to our king again," said I. "There will be some who would know where you are and how you fare."
She thanked me, saying nothing but that when the time came, if I yet remembered her and would ask her, she might give me messages for those at Peterborough whom she had left, and I promised to do all I could in bearing them.
"I cannot forget the maiden who saved my life," I said.
She made no answer, and the boat shot alongside the little wharf, where a crowd was gathering quickly to see us come. Many questions there were when Bertric's men were known.
There was a kindly-looking monk among his people, and I went to him, and brought him to the nuns where they and Uldra stood apart by themselves, while the two men were busy with their folk.
"Pax vobiscum," he said; "you shall be welcome, my sisters, at our little nunnery for tonight. Then will we ask the bishop on the morrow what you had better do."
Then they were eager to go with him, and I bade them farewell, bowing, and they turned away. They might say nothing, according to their rule, Elfric told me, save in need.
Neither did Uldra speak, though no vow of silence was on her, but she went with them for a little way. I was rather hurt at this, and began to go back to the boat, wondering that she had no word of farewell.
"Redwald--thane," came a gentle call in her voice, and I turned sharply.
She was close to me, and the sisters were waiting for her twenty paces or so away.
"Farewell," she said. "I could but thank you for all your care for us."
"It has been freely given, lady," I said. "I only grieve that the journey has ended thus. May it be well with you."
"I will pray for you, thane, day and night in the nunnery that it may be so with you," she answered, with a little sort of choking. "The gratitude of us helpless women to you for your long patience is more than we can say."
Then she went swiftly back to the nuns, and they went their way. I thought that I had not deserved so much. And of this I was sure, that had not the sisters' dress kept me far from Uldra, I had forgotten Hertha in her company. Then thought I that there was no reason why I should remember Hertha any longer. And next, that it were better that I should think of no maiden at all, at this time.
Which last seemed wisest, and so I grew discontented, and went down to the boat and bade the men take my arms and few belongings to Earl Wulfnoth's house.
When I came there the steward knew me, and made me very welcome. The earl was at Pevensea or Shoreham, but Godwine was in and out of the haven, and would be here ere long. So they told me, and set a good meal before me. And when I had eaten I lay down on a settle and slept the long sleep that comes to one wearied in mind and body alike. If the house had burnt over my head I should not have waked, for others watched now, and I had no need to wake for aught.
A man knows those things in his sleep, I verily believe. One ill dream I had, and that was of Bertric's unlucky kitten, which seemed to be the queen in some uncanny way. Sometimes I wonder what became of it. I never learned, but it brought me no more ill luck.
When I woke it was daylight again. A fire burnt on the hearth in the middle of the hall, and someone had spread a wolf-skin rug over me. I had not moved from sunset to sunrise, and I was refreshed and broad awake at once, wondering at first where I was, and who had laughed and woke me.
There was a youth sitting on a table's edge by the wall over against where I lay, and a big broad-shouldered man leant on it with folded arms beside him, and at first I stared at them till my thoughts came back, and they laughed at me again, and then I knew Godwine and Relf the thane, who had but just come up from their ship to find me.
"On my word," said Godwine, "here is a man who could teach one how to sleep! We have sat here and talked about you for ten minutes or more."
"Redwald sleeps as though he had lost time to make up," said Relf. "Welcome back to us, anyway."
"Aye--welcome you are," said Godwine warmly, "but how did you come here?"
I got up and took their hands, rejoicing to see them. It was good to be among friends again after the long watching and many dangers. Then came the steward followed by his men with a mighty breakfast, and as he set the tables on the high place, Godwine's men trooped in. They had had to wait for the morning tide into the haven, and the ship was just berthed.
"Food first," Relf advised. "Then shall Redwald tell us all he knows."
So by and by we sat in the morning sunlight in the courtyard, and I told them all that had happened from beginning to end. They knew no more than that Ethelred was dead, and that Cnut was besieging London.
"We tried to chase those Danes because they had got our man's ship," said Godwine. "When we got near enough, for they came down wind and passed us before long, we found that Bertric was contented enough, running up his own flag, and the Danes did not stay to fight. So we came home, only losing our tide by the delay."
"What would you have done had you known that the queen was on board, and a prisoner?" I asked.
"Why, nothing more than we have done," Godwine said. "My father hates Emma the cat as bitterly as he does Streone the fox, which is saying a good deal. The cat's claws are clipped now, maybe."
Well, I knew this, and said nothing. One could expect no more from Earl Wulfnoth's son. Nor do I think that any loved Emma the queen much. One may know how a person is thought of by the way in which folk name them often enough, and though our king would have had his young wife called by her English name, Elfgiva, none ever did so. Her Norman, foreign name was all we used. If she had been loved, we should have rejoiced to name her in our own way.
Then Godwine said:
"You have had an ill time with Emma, as I think, if she is all that my father says."
"Nay, Godwine," said Relf, "Redwald will not bear much of this. He is the queen's faithful servant, and will have nought against her, and he is right."
"So he is, and I am wrong," said the lad at once. "Forgive me, friend; I did not think."
Then I laughed, and turned it off. Godwine was only too right, but I could not say so. Now, however, I may say that the memory of Emma the queen's ways is to me as a nightmare.
"I would that I could meet with this Egil," Godwine said as I gave him sword Foe's Bane to handle; and then he forgot all else in the beauty of the weapon.
"What have you done with the brave maiden?" Relf asked me now.
"She is in the nunnery here," I said. "She is friendless, having no folk of her own nearer than Peterborough."
"That is far off," said Relf, and began to think, twisting his beard as was his wont when pondering somewhat weighty.
Now, before he had made up his mind to say any more, Godwine was ready to hear about the winning back of the sword, and of the fights in Ulfkytel's land, and then a man came from the ships with some business, and he went away with him. And by that time Relf had somewhat to say.
"Penhurst is a lonesome place, and it will be worse for my wife when Sexberga is gone," he said musingly.
"Why, where is your daughter going?" I asked him.
He looked at me sidewise for a moment, and I thought that his face fell a little. Then he said:
"Going to be wedded shortly."
"That is well," I said. "To whom?"
Then the thane turned fairly round on me with wide eyes, and a blank fear fell on me that he meant that I was to wed her. Yet surely the lady had told him that I was betrothed.
"Ho!" he said; "did you not know that? Methought everyone did."
That was worse, and I knew not what he looked for from me.
"I have been away; I have heard nought," I answered lamely enough.
"Oh, aye; so you have," he said. "Truly, I forgot that. We quiet people fancy that all the world knows our affairs. And it was in my mind that you had a tenderness that way yourself. I knew not how you would take it."
Then we both laughed, but it was not a hearty laughter, for each feared the other a little, as it seemed.
"I am glad for Sexberga, if she is happy," said I.
"Why, now, that is well," said Relf. "I had thought that I must break this matter gently to you."
"Maybe you would have had to do so had I bided at Penhurst much longer," said I truly enough.
"All the same, Redwald, I wish it were you, on my faith," said the thane, growing red in his earnestness.
"Thanks therefor," said I. "It is good to hear you say so; but I am a landless warrior in bad luck, and so it is better as it is. Who is the man of Sexberga's choice?"
"Eldred of Dallington," said he. "A good youth enough, and with lands enough. He has never seen a fight, though," and then he turned on me suddenly, putting his hand on mine. "I could have sworn, lad, that you were fond of the girl. Tell me if it is so, and Eldred shall go down the wind like a strayed hawk, for all I care."
I shook my head, but it came over me for a moment that I wished I might recall the wandering fancies of the winter days in Penhurst--but that passed, and I was lonely in heart.
"Nay, thane, that is not so. My sword here is all that I love next to my king and Olaf my cousin--and Relf the thane. I have no love for any maiden, nor could Sexberga think twice of me."
"If you had bided a little longer. Well, then, no hearts are broken, or so much as awry, and that is well. So, as I was saying, Penhurst will be lonely directly, and already I love this maiden with the outland name for saving you. How would she take it if we gave her shelter with us? I am going back home in a day or two, and you must come with me."
The good thane spoke fast, being easier in his mind, as it seemed, on one point, and not willing to make any show of generosity on the other.
"That is a kind thought of yours," I said, being very glad, and not less so that I could not help rejoicing that I should see more of Uldra.
"I wonder what my wife would say?" he said thoughtfully.
"If I know aught of her kindness, and I think that I have proved it well," answered I, "she will be glad to help this orphan maiden."
"Let us go and see her, and ask her to come, therefore," said Relf, rising up. "I want to thank her, moreover, for saving you."
I was nowise loath, and so we went along under the trees towards the nunnery. And as we went Relf talked of Eldred, the Thane of Dallington, and the wedding that was to come. And all the while I believe that he was troubling about two things that were mixed in his mind--fear that I was set aside by Sexberga, and a wish that I had been the bridegroom.
Then we knocked on the great door, and he was silent until a sister looked through the little barred square wicket in the midst of it.
"We would speak with the Lady Uldra," I said. "I am the thane who brought her ashore."
The sister said nought, but shut the wicket door, and left us. We heard her steps retreating across the little courtyard, and she shut a door after her somewhere else. Then all was quiet.
"What does that mean?" Relf said.
"That we have to wait," said I "that is all. It is the way in which they treat folk at these places. They would do the same if the queen came. She has gone to her Superior."
"What would Emma say?" chuckled Relf, looking slyly at me.
"One cannot say much to an iron-barred oak door."
"But there are thanes and such-like left outside," he said, laughing more yet. "Now Godwine is not here, I dare say that you have felt, more than once, the queen's tongue for nought."
"I will deny it," said I, "to anyone but Elfric the abbot," whereat he laughed till the tears came into his eyes. He had known our queen in the old days before Streone's treachery.
I was glad that the wicket flew open again. Relf stayed his laughter in a moment, and became very grave.
"What would she say now?" he whispered.
"Enough," I said, for the sister, having seen that we waited, unbarred the gate and let us in. Then she pointed to a door on our right, and went away.
I took Relf's arm and led him to this door--for he was going to follow the sister--and we opened it. It led into a small high-roofed chamber, that had a great crucifix painted in bright colours on the east wall, and pictured legends on the rest, between high narrow windows.
But there stood Uldra, no longer in convent dress, but in some robe of dark blue and crimson that became her well, so that at first I hardly knew her, for now for the first time I saw her bright brown hair that the novice's hood had hidden from me. I could not say that Uldra was fair as Sexberga to look on, but, as ever, I thought that her face was the sweetest that I had seen in all my life.
I was a little abashed before this grave and stately maiden, who was the same, and yet not the same, as she who had been through so much danger and trial with me, and I could not find a word to say at first. Nor could she, as it seemed, and so we looked at one another until she smiled. It was only for a moment, however, for when her face lighted up thus, Relf found his voice and spoke.
"I have come to thank you, lady, for saving my comrade's life yesterday," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. "I had lost a good friend but for you, he tells me."
"But for the thane, your friend, I know not what would have become of us," she answered. "The thanks are from me to him, rather."
"Yet I think that I owe you somewhat," Relf said, "and now I am minded to try to show that I would thank you in deed, and not in word only."
He paused, and Uldra looked at me as if asking if I could throw any light on this stranger's meaning.
"Relf, the Thane of Penhurst, is he who gave me shelter and care when I was hurt in a fight and a flood last winter," I said. "He has indeed been a good friend to me."
"Not I," said Relf; "you fought for me. It was my wife and Sexberga, my daughter, who tended you."
Now at that name, which she already knew, the maiden looked quickly away from me, and a little flush began to creep up into her face, with pleasure as it would seem.
"I have heard of your daughter Sexberga already," she said to Relf with a little smile.
"Why, that is well," he said. "Now, after her wedding my wife will be sorely lost for want of a companion, and I would ask you to come home to Penhurst with us, and bide there until you may seek your friends again--or as long as you wish. And glad shall we be of your help at the wedding feast."
So he spoke cheerfully, trying to make all the honour come from her, as kindness to himself and his wife. But though the tears came into Uldra's eyes at the good thane's plain meaning, she was silent yet, save that she said:
"I know not how to thank you for your goodwill to me."
"Nay," he said; "but my wife will blame me if you come not. 'Here,' she will say, 'is the companion whom I needed, and a friend of our Redwald's, moreover, and you have not brought her.' I pray you, come with us. Do you ask her, Redwald; I am rough, and you are courtly."
Then I said:
"Lady, this is all that Elfric would wish for you. I cannot tell you of the great kindness that is waiting for you in the thane's home."
And for answer she turned away and began to weep, and Relf could bear that not at all, and he went to her and put his arm round her, as he would have done to Sexberga, and tried to reassure her.
"Why," he said, "here is nought to weep about, maiden. Maybe we are homely people, but I think that you may learn to be happier in freedom with us than here. Nay, but weep not so bitterly, you shall be as our daughter to us if you will, for Redwald's life's sake. Aye, you shall have Sexberga's own chamber and all that--"
But still Uldra wept, and I was unhappy to see her do so. This could not be all for sudden relief from doubt as I had thought at first.
Then she took herself gently from the thane's arm, and dried her eyes, and clasped her hands tightly before her, and said:
"I cannot say how I thank you; but I must bide here."
"This is a cold place," said the thane. "It is no home for you."
"I think it will be so in the end," she said very sadly.
And I tried hard to think of somewhat to say that might persuade her, but there was that meaning in her voice that seemed to stay whatever came to me. I thought that she had made up her mind to take the veil, and there are few things that will turn a maiden from that when once she has chosen it.
Then said Relf:
"Maybe I ask you too suddenly, lady. Let us leave it till tomorrow, and I pray you think with all kindness of the matter, for I shall be sorely grieved if you will not come."
And I said the same as well as I could, but though she promised to give her answer in the morning, it was plain to me that it would be even as she said now.
Then we took our leave of her, and found our way out of the place, somewhat down-hearted. The door was bolted after us, though I do not know who did it, or whence the portress watched our going. And it was dismal to hear the great bars jarring in their sockets.
"Poor maid," said Relf. "Why does she choose such a prison?"
"Those dismal nuns have talked her into it," said I angrily.
"Maybe. It is a way they have," the thane said. "'Come in here!' said the rat in the trap to the rat outside, 'one is safe from the cat behind these bars.'"
So we walked on for a little, and then he said:
"How did she hear of Sexberga? I thought you had had no speech with her on the journey."
"Nor had I," I answered. "I thought she was another silent nun. But I thought she was like Sexberga, and so I called her Sister Sexberga to myself, giving her a name in my thoughts. Then in the boat it slipped out unawares when I had to speak to her, and she asked to be told why I called her so."
"As much like Sexberga as you are like Godwine, which is not at all," said Relf laughing. "Was she pleased?"
"Why, I think not," I answered.
"How much more about Sexberga did you tell her?" he asked.
"Nothing, there was no need."
Then Relf began to chuckle to himself, and I could not tell why. But presently he said:
"Did you give the sisters names likewise?"
"Yes, I did. I do not think I should have cared to say what they were," I answered, laughing also.
He said no more about this, and we came to the hall, and then went to find Godwine at the ships. But I could not but feel disappointed that Uldra would not come with us. And that was not all for her own sake, as I found when I came to turn over my thoughts a little. I would fain see more of the maiden who had borne peril so well, and had stood so bravely at my side.
Now when Godwine heard how our errand had failed, he laughed at Relf's downcast looks and said, scanning my weatherbeaten and forest-worn garments:
"Maidens love to see warriors go in bright array. She is tired of those old weeds of Redwald's. We must fit him out afresh in the morning, and then she will listen maybe."
He was so pleased with this boyish wisdom of his own, being fully persuaded that he was right, that he and I must ride together to Chichester with morning light, and find new gear for me.
"We roll in riches since you fell into the pit," he said, when I would pay for what I had with my last piece of gold. "And you must keep that one; there are more due to you yet as I think."
Nor would he be denied in this, and it is not a warrior's part to take an earl's gifts grudgingly. And when I fairly shone in bright array from head to foot, he must needs add a wonderful round brooch, silver and gold wrought, with crimson garnets at the ends and in the spaces of the arms of a cross of inlaid pearl and enamel, such as one seldom sees.
"It is a Kentish brooch," he said, "so shall men know that you are a friend of the earls of Kent and Sussex."
That was an earl's giving indeed, but Godwine is ever open handed, and I am not alone in learning how he will give.
"Now we must go back, and you shall seek this damsel again since old Relf is so set thereon. As for you, it is likely that you have had trouble enough with her already, and will care little if she will not come," he said, and looked me over from head to foot as we stood outside the chapman's house in the wide place where the four roads cross in Chichester town.
"My faith!" he added, "I believe that even Emma the Cat would mind what you told her now!"
"Lord earl," said I, "you will make me vain."
"Earl, forsooth!" he cried, "the clothes have made you mighty courtly all at once. Godwine and Redwald are going back to Bosham, and the earl bides at Chichester Cross--mind you that!"
And he swung himself on his horse laughing, and we rode away, while the people shouted, for they had gathered in twos and threes to look on him.
Now when we came back to the great house, there was Relf sitting on the bench where we had sat yesterday, and he looked as if he had had good news.
"Now, thane," said Godwine, "here is a new messenger to your sorrowful damsel."
Relf stared at me and laughed, and when I got off my horse Godwine would have us go at once. So Relf took my arm and we went, while the young earl joked us till we were out of hearing.
"Now," said the thane, "we will not spoil the earl's jest, but must even let him think that all has been his doing thus."
"Why, he will see us start for Penhurst, and if Uldra is not there--"
"Aye, but she will be. She is coming gladly," Relf said.
"How is this?" I asked.
"Just that I have been to see the maiden while you were gone, and I spoke to her as to a daughter, and so she is coming."
"You would not wait for me, then?" I said, being glad that he had managed without me, as things had turned out.
"Methought I could do better alone. The girl would say more to me than if you were there, perhaps. Moreover, I had a notion why she would not come, and I wanted to ask her if I was right. And I was."
"I thought of that," said I; "she was in the same plight as myself until Godwine decked me out thus. Women think more of their attire than we."
The thane chuckled in his quiet way.
"Why, perhaps that had somewhat to do with it, but I did not ask her, I forgot. But I did tell the old Lady Superior to do so, and gave her withal to care for the maiden."
Then I said:
"It is well that you persuaded her; maybe I should have been in the way. I should have lost my tongue again, I think."
"Well, yes," said Relf, still laughing to himself, "it was you who were in the way; however, as you say, all is well, and she rides with us tomorrow. We will go and find a mule or a good forest pony for her, and so tell Godwine that the clothes have done it."
Now I never thought that there was anything more behind the thane's words, for of all things that had made my soul weary in these last weeks the complaints of Emma the queen about her dress had been the worst. So this seemed to me to be quite enough to explain Uldra's first refusal, and though I believe that Relf had been on the point of telling me more, he forbore, and let this suffice.
Relf knew where to look for a beast, and we soon had a good bay pony, that was quiet enough and strong, sent to Godwine's stables. And then Relf told the earl what he had done.
"Then I was right," said Godwine gleefully. "I will warrant that you two wise heads would never have thought thereof."
"Are you coming with us?" I asked him, for I did not care to have to find answers to many questions about our speech with Uldra, as things were.
"I am coming by sea presently with two ships," he said. "I shall wait till Bertric comes back, and so maybe shall have news of your queen to tell you. He should not be long. Relf goes back for the early hay time, he says, but I believe that he is tired of the sea."
"I am no sailor, lord," the thane said.
"As any of my crew will tell you," Godwine said merrily.
"Never, Redwald, was any man so undone as Relf when there is a little sea on. A common forest deer thief could tie him up."
"I should have thanked one for slaying me at times," said Relf grimly. "I prefer solid ground to shifty deck planks."
So whether it was love of home or loathing of sea that took him back to Penhurst, Relf and I left Godwine on the next morning; and at the nunnery door waited Uldra, looking bright and cheerful and greeting us gladly as we came. And it seemed to me that her troubles had passed from her, and that she was indeed glad to be leaving the walls of the place that was so prison-like.
Now that was a fair and pleasant ride over the Downs and among the forest paths through Sussex, and I look back on it as the brightest time that I had had in all the long years of trouble. The joy of going back to my old home at Bures had been clouded with the knowledge of loss, and with the sight of the trail of war. But here were none of these things.
We rode with twenty housecarles of Relf's behind us, and it was a new thing to me that I should see the wayside folk run out into the trackway to see us pass; that the farm thralls in the fields should but rise up, straightening stiffened backs and laughing, and stay their work for a moment to watch us; that no man who met us should ask with anxious face, "What news of the Danes?"
New it was, and most pleasant to Uldra also, for she had come through all the harried land, where the click of steel or the glint of armour had bidden the poor folk fly in terror, so that one rode through silent and deserted villages, and past farms where nought but the dogs told of life about the place. And that was what I had seen over all England since Swein of Denmark landed, so long ago. Men will hardly believe it now. Relf could hardly believe us as we told him. Yet today, were I to ride into an East Saxon village shouting "The Danes!" there are men who would cast down tools and all else that they were busied with, and clutch at the weapons that rust on the wall before thought could come to them. For the terror of these years cannot pass from England yet while any man is alive who knew it.
Now there was another pleasure for me, and that was to watch Uldra growing brighter and happier day by day. It was wonderful to me to see this, and with me she was ever frank and open, never wearying of speaking of our former journey and its troubles, for we could smile at them now. And Relf grew very fond of her in those few days, as one might see. Nor do I know how anyone could help doing so. Even the rough housecarles would watch for a chance of doing some little service for her.
And yet, as I have said, Uldra was not the fairest maiden that I had seen. Men are apt to think that the fairest must ever be the best, and a man learns that it is not so only by degrees, maybe. And when I looked on Uldra's face it began to seem to me the best that could be, and ever to me it would seem that I knew it well. For some look of hers that should be new to me was not new--I had expected it in some way, and should have wondered not to see it cross her face. And so in gesture and in word also. So that she seemed already well known to me, and why this was I could not say, and at times it troubled me as puzzling things will. But, all the same, I loved to find myself so puzzled.
Thus, by the time we came over the great spur of the Downs that ends in Beachy Head, and looked over all Pevensea level to the Penhurst woods and hills beyond, I and Uldra were very good friends, and Relf was pleased that it should be so, and rode between us in high content.
It was midday when we passed the last hill of the Downs where the mighty giant lies like a shadow on the grass by Wilmington; then we saw the gray castle where Wulfnoth bided, away to our right; and then along the steep ridge inland and down to Boreham, where I must tell the maiden of the great sea wave, and how Olaf saved me. And so we came to Penhurst in its valley among the trees, and the ride was over.
Now there is no need to say what welcome was at that house, whether for its lord, or for the warrior who had been nursed back to life there, or for the new-come homeless maiden. Relf was not wrong when he told her that she should be as a daughter in the house.
Some of the men had ridden on, so that the homecoming feast should be spread for us, and there was the lady at the courtyard gates, and with her Sexberga, and a tall, handsome young thane, whom I knew for Eldred of Dallington; and there was Father Anselm, and Spray the smith, and many more whose faces I was glad to see again.
And among all those faces were nought but welcoming looks--save from one only. I did not note this, being taken up with watching how they greeted Uldra, for that seemed to me to be the only thing that I cared about. If I had any thought of Sexberga now, it was as if she had been my sister, and I hoped that she would be pleased with the maiden who was thus brought to her unlooked for. I need have troubled nought about that, however, for she and her mother were alike in many things, and if I was sure of the one, so might I have been of the other in all that had to do with kindness.
But if I had looked beyond Sexberga to where her young thane stood I should have met with a black scowl enough, though I could not have told why this should be his greeting for me. I had but seen him once before, and that was at Earl Wulfnoth's feast to Olaf when we first came.
That was an evening to be remembered as most pleasant when, after the feast, we sat and spoke of all that had happened since I left Penhurst. I told them all the tale of warfare, and of Olaf's deeds, and of the winning back of my sword, and how that helped our meeting with Egil.
And when Spray the smith, who sat listening, with the other men in the hall below the high place, heard of that escape from the Danes, he said, without ceremony:
"Master, well I knew that you would never be cast into prison."
"That was a saying of yours, Spray," said I. "May the luck last."
Then Uldra would tell the story of our journey in her way, and my name came pretty often into her tale. So, looking about the hall while she spoke, my eyes lit on Eldred, and it seemed that he was ill at ease, and displeased with somewhat. I thought that he would rather be sitting nearer Sexberga, maybe, and troubled nought about him, though I did think that he showed his ill temper over plainly in his face.
Now, in all this story telling there was one thing about which I said nothing, and that was my search for Hertha. It seemed to me that there was no need for doing so, and moreover, I would tell the lady thereof in private at some time. And I was glad that Sexberga asked me nought about it. I do not think that she had forgotten it, but she had her own reasons for saying nought of the matter, which were foolish enough when I found them out. The lady, her mother, waited for me to say what I would in my own way when I thought right.
That generous foe of mine, Egil--if indeed I should not call him my friend, as he named me once--had set two months as the time in which I must bide in peace, and I will not say that this space seemed likely to go over-heavily for me. We could hear little news except from such ships as put in from along the coast, and the first news that came was when Godwine returned from Bosham.
The Danes had taken the queen to Winchester in high honour, and there she was living in some sort of state, which pleased her well enough, until word came from Cnut concerning her. It was thought that he would let her go back to Normandy, keeping the athelings as hostages. So concerning her and them my mind was at rest.
Now Cnut was besieging London. But before he had left Wessex, there had been a great council of bishops and clergy at Salisbury, and at that gathering he had been chosen as king in succession to Ethelred, whose house was not loved. There, too, he was present, and swore to be their faithful king and to protect Holy Church in all things.
Then into Wessex went Eadmund, ravaging and laying waste there. One might know what hatred of him would come from that, and my heart sank at hearing this folly.
Two days after Godwine came, we saw the sails of a great fleet going westward, and we thought that Cnut had been beaten off from London. But a ship that had sprung a leak in some way put into Wulfnoth's haven at Shoreham from this fleet, and from thence we learnt that the Danes had halved their forces, and that Cnut and Ulf the jarl were going again into the Severn to withstand Eadmund in Wessex, and if possible to hem him in between two forces in the old way of the days of Alfred. London was beset straitly, but not taken yet.
I was more content then, for I could not have reached our king, had I returned from Normandy, as it seemed. And now it was possible that he might make headway against the divided forces of the Danes. I might join him yet in time to share in some final victory.
So the early summer days at Penhurst became very pleasant to me, for I had little care that need sit heavily on my mind. Indeed, I think that I should almost have forgotten that I had any, but for the foolishness of Sexberga, which bid fair to turn all things to sadness at one time.
I had spoken with her mother about my search for Hertha, telling her plainly all that had passed between me and Ailwin, and I asked her to tell me what she thought I must do now.
"Wait yet longer," she answered; "peace will come, and he will bring Hertha back to Bures."
That ought to have been my own plan, but I had rather hoped to hear her say that I was right in holding myself free to choose afresh as I would. The thought of being bound seemed irksome to me; though why I, landless and luckless, should have found it so, I could not say. It mattered not at all at present. So I said:
"That is all one can do, lady; it matters not."
"What thinks Sexberga?" I asked presently.
"You have not spoken to her of your search, then?" the lady said. "I had thought that she would ask you of it first of all."
She had asked nothing, and I had said nothing.
Then the lady said:
"She and I spoke thereof with Uldra but yesterday, and they were both full of your praises for wishing to seek for your Hertha. They will be glad to hear that you have done so, and sad that you have failed to find her."
Then there came over me a wish that Uldra knew nought about it. And that angered me with myself, because it was plain that I cared overmuch for the company and pleasant voice and looks of this maiden who was friendless as I.
So that was all that was said at the time, and I met Uldra in my foolishness as if this were going to make some difference in her way with me. Which of course it did not. Whereupon I was angrier yet with myself for deeming that it would.
Now, there was another person who should have known of this betrothal of mine, and that was Edred, but Sexberga never told him, and her mother did not, for she thought that Sexberga would do so.
Of all the foolish things that a maiden can do, the most foolish is to try to make the man who is to wed her jealous. For it is playing with edged tools in two ways--if the man, being an honest man and trustful, is not jealous, the maiden thinks that he cares not, and so is herself wretched. But if he is jealous, why, then every thought of his towards the maiden is changed and spoilt, and it will be long, if ever, before full trust is won again between those two.
But this seems to be good sport to some damsels, and so it was with Sexberga. The blacker grew the young thane's looks the more she would praise me, and the more she would choose to speak with me rather than to him; wherefore his life was made wretched for him, and I think he hated the sight of me. Maybe I was blind not to see this, but I liked him well enough, save for what I thought was his sullen temper, and I would try to joke him into better humour at times in all good fellowship. But I think that the trouble began before I came back, with talk of the time when I had been at Penhurst before.
He was ever at Penhurst--I should have thought ill of him if he had not been--for Dallington was close at hand, and he was ever welcome.
After that talk with the lady I must needs ask Sexberga what she thought concerning my strange betrothal, she having had so much to say thereon before. And so one day, as I had been with Spray to see some traps set by the bank of the Ashbourne river for otter, and was coming back with him, bearing a great one between us on a pole, we met Sexberga in the woodland track to the house, and Spray went on, while I walked back with her on her way to the old village--where we had had the fight--and talked about my baffled search.
Now her saying was that I had no need to pay any more heed to this betrothal after what I had said to Ailwin, and that he himself would seem to try to break it by thus taking Hertha out of my ken. And we talked freely of the matter, and the last thing that I said was this, coming round to what I had made up my better mind for:
"It is not much matter either way. I can think of no maiden as things are."
Whereon we met Eldred, and his face was not pleasant to look on, though he said nothing at that moment, and turned and walked silently with us on the other side of the maiden.
When we came to the village I said that we would wait outside until she came back, and thought that Eldred would go along with her. But he stayed with me, and I looked round for a sunny seat where one could see all the long chain of bright hammer ponds that went in steps, as it were, down the valley before us.
"Nay," he said in a strange voice, "come over to the other side of the valley--there is a pleasant place there."
"The lady will miss us," said I.
"We need not be long," he said. "The place I would show you is not far. One of us can be back before she has done with these churls."
So, as I supposed that we might have to wait for half an hour, because every woman in the place would want to tell her ailments to the kindly young mistress most likely, we went together, passing over the brook, and going up the steep valley side beyond it, until we came to the rocks of the old quarry where we had rested before the fight with the outlaws.
A pleasant place enough it was, truly, for the rocks stood round in a little cliff, hemming in a lawn of short grass on every side but one, and the trees that hung on the bank of the stream closed that in. So when we were fairly within this circle of red cliff and green trees Eldred said:
"This will do. We will see which of us is to go back to Sexberga."
"Why, you will," said I, thinking that he had some device by which he might be free from my presence. "I spoil company for you both, and will go back to the hall by the lower track presently."
"You have spoilt company long enough," he said, his face growing very savage of a sudden. "Now I will end it, one way or the other."
"What is this foolishness?" I said, seeing now what he meant.
"You know well enough," he answered with a great oath. "Pluck out that fine sword of yours and show that you can do more than talk of using it."
"Come, Eldred," said I, "I have not deserved this."
"You deserve all that I shall give you," he answered, drawing his sword. "Stand up like a man."
Now it seemed very hard to me that all these friendships should be broken and spoilt by this foolish business, as they would be if either of us was hurt; and so I tried to quiet him yet once more.
"Eldred, listen to reason," I said. "I have done you no wrong. Tell me of what you complain."
Thereat he only cursed, bidding me draw and cease prating.
"I will not fight you thus," I said, for he was growing over wild to fight well for himself. "Let us find some to attend us and watch the business, that neither of us may be blamed. It is ill to slay a man in a hidden place like this with none to say that the fight was fair."
"You are afraid," he said sneeringly.
"You must ask Relf if that is likely," said I, for I would not be angered by his angry words. "But I do not care to risk blame to you or me. Nought is gained by fighting thus."
"Ask Relf, forsooth!" he snarled. "I care not to hear again how you lay hid in the pit yonder while others fought."
"Have a care, Eldred," I said then. "You grow heedless in your anger, and go too far. I do not think that you mean this."
"Do you need to be called nidring {12}?" he snarled at me.
Now none heard that word pass between us, and though it made me bitterly angry I kept my wrath back. Truly I began to think that I was foolish to argue with him; but there would be grief, lifelong, at Penhurst if deadly harm befell either of us where none could say that all was fairly fought out.
"Are you not going?" he said in a choking sort of way.
"No," I said, "not until I know what all this is about."
"What good in going over that again?" he answered. "You know well enough. Let me be--you have won."
"I know," said I; "but you have not told me aught. I can only guess that you think that I have taken your place with Sexberga."
"Aye--and now you have won it."
"I want it not," I answered. "Had you not been so angry you would have known that, when I bid you go back and meet her without me."
Now he looked at me with a sort of doubt, and said, in a somewhat halting way:
"I heard you just now tell her that it could not be that you could think of her--as things are."
Then I remembered what my last words had been, and I saw that they might easily have misled him after all the trouble he seemed to have had.
"You heard too much or too little," said I, being minded to laugh, though the matter was over serious to him to let me do so. "I spoke of my own troubles, which were the less because my fortunes prevent my thinking of any maiden, seeing that I have no home to give a wife when I find her. You were wrong in thinking that I spoke of Sexberga--I spoke, as you might have known, of the one whom I have lost."
"How should I know that? I know nought of your affairs."
Then thought I to myself that I would punish Sexberga, for she had tortured this honest lover of hers over much.
"I will not tell you that tale. Ask Sexberga, who has known it from the first."
Then I was sorry for what I had said, for he flushed darkly.
"I have been made a fool of," he said.
"Nay; but you should have been more trustful," said I. "Now, were I in your place, I would go home to Dallington and bide there for a week, and the maiden will be pleased enough to see you when you return. And if she tries to make you jealous again, seem to mind it not. There is little sport in it for her then."
"I suppose there would not be," said he, and he began to look more cheerful.
"Now," said I, "I was betrothed long ago--the war time has come between me and her who should have been my wife. I have hunted for her and cannot find her--and that is all. Now you understand. It was Sexberga who cheered me in my search, and so I spoke to her thereof."
"I should not have doubted you," he said frankly; "forgive me."
I held out my hand and he took it. There was nought but friendliness in his grasp, and I could not blame him. I blamed Sexberga wholly.
Then he laughed a little ruefully.
"I am a fool with a sword," he said. "Will you teach me somewhat? I think I was mad when I used those evil words to you."
"I have forgotten them," I answered; and so I had. One does not think much of what a man says in utmost rage as his. "Come, let us go back to the village."
So we went back together, but Sexberga had gone on her way homeward without us. Whereat Eldred was not sorry, and said that he was going back to his own place.
"You will see me no more for a few days," he said. "I think your plan is good."
"Mind this," I answered, "I never tried it."
"Lookers-on see best," he answered, laughing bitterly. "But think no more of my anger with yourself, I pray you."
I told him that I would not, and so we parted good friends enough, though I feared that he might take this matter to heart in such wise that he would have some ill moments presently. There was little spring in his walk as he took the path towards Dallington.
I said nought of this affair, as one might suppose, and made little excuse to Sexberga for leaving her. We had walked too far, and had returned too late to find her, I said. She pouted and said nothing, but I thought that her punishment had already begun.
Next day there were ships heading in for Pevensea, and I rode away to find out what I could, and forgot Eldred and his troubles. For Olaf had come, and that was luck beyond what I could have looked for.
The ten great ships slid into the haven, and I was first on the strand to meet the king. Wulfnoth and Godwine were riding inland, and doubtless were returning posthaste if they knew that ships had come. But for a little while I had my kinsman to myself, and great was his wonder to find me in this place.
"I have thought that I should have to ransom you from Cnut's hand," he said, "for we have heard that Thorkel's men took the queen's ship. Were you not taken likewise?"