CHAPTER VII

THE RESCUE OF SIVEL

Once more the little society of English boys was assembled at its old trysting–place under the cypress trees, near the navicula, on the Caelian Hill—all but Sivel. When the first transports of joy at meeting again were over, they gazed on each other and rejoiced at the changes they saw, from weak boys to be sold and beaten, to powerful young warriors who were able to defend themselves. Forthere was nearly mad with rage and anxiety when he heard of the abduction of his young cousin. He had become a strong and muscular youth, a most formidable antagonist, as impulsive as ever, and otherwise unchanged—a vigorous foe, but a true and faithful friend. Little Godric was still a boy. Hereric had grown into a youth of singular grace and beauty. He was now sixteen, and he had an air of cultivation and breeding, due partly to his high rank, but also to the knowledge he had acquired. He could read and write, and had become a sincere Christian. If he had a fault, it was that he relied too much on the probity of others, and was easily deceived by designing men. Forthere and Godric were devoted to the Atheling, as indeed were all his companions. No one could know the Deiran Prince without loving him. To the sons of Seomel and to Lilla he was almost a brother.

Hereric had startling news to tell. He had passed most of his time studying under Laurentius in the monastery of St. Andrew. But Forthere and Godric, refusing to work at books, were sent to Monte Cassiano, where they were employed in the fields or at the works connected with the extension of the monastery. They were often in trouble, owing to their decided aversion for the Regula Monachorum of St. Benedict; and they had recently been brought back to the Caelian Hill.

Gregory had not forgotten his intention to introduce Christianity into England, the land of the beautiful children in the market–place. Three had been brought up in the monastery on the Caelian, and one at least would now make an excellent interpreter. He resolved to entrust the mission to his prior of St. Andrew, whose reward was to be the bishopric of the new diocese. Augustine was to be accompanied by Laurentius and Peter, Hereric and his two companions, and several monks and attendants. Letters were written to the Queens Fredegonda and Brunehaud for protection while passing through their dominions; and to Vergilius, the Bishop of Arles, to bespeak hospitality. Brunehaud promised also to provide an interpreter. Hereric had been told of the mission, and was, of course, delighted at so good an opportunity of returning home, provided that all his companions were equally favoured. But as the day for starting approached, the monks showed great repugnance to being employed on such a service. They were terrified, and although Augustine was not so faint–hearted, he looked upon the undertaking as being full of danger. The truth was that Forthere had been telling the monks such stories about England as made their hair stand on end. The time was very near; for the departure of the mission was to take place on the very next day, the 21st of July 596.

When all the news had been exchanged, the boys were long in consultation. The plans for the discovery and rescue of Sivel were laid with care and circumspection. But Forthere was torn different ways. He could not endure leaving Rome with his adopted brother still in the hands of the villain Mystacon; yet his devotion for the Atheling made it equally hard to quit the mission and remain. Hereric settled the question. "Forthere, my more than brother, your duty is clear. Sivel is the adopted son of your valorous father, Brand of Ulfskelf. You must follow the quest for him until his rescue is achieved. The loss to me is greater than I can tell you. But our Godric is growing to be a man, and a brave one. He will be my faithful companion and true soldier in your absence." Young Godric's face flushed with pleasure, while Hereric and Forthere clasped each other in a long, silent embrace. "But," added the Atheling, as he gazed into Forthere's eyes, "you must follow the rede of Porlor, and the guidance of Coelred and Lilla. Strike when they give the signal, but not before. Your blow is strong and sure. Let it fall at the appointed time, and not too suddenly, my Forthere. God bless you all, and may our next meeting be in our own land, with Sivel in our midst!"

It was clear that, if the boys accomplished all they intended, Rome would be too hot to hold them. Their course of action must be guided by events, but their general plan was to have horses always ready at the Symmachan villa, to overpower the guard at one of the gates when their work was done, and to join the army of the Lombard King. Thence they would make their way, by fair means or foul, to their native land. Coelred prevailed upon Hereric to take a good supply of money, and the Atheling also undertook to convey the small but precious bales from India, as part of his own baggage. It was the only chance of their reaching England.

Next day the mission left Rome. Pope Gregory offered up prayers, said mass at St. Peter's, and gave the monks his blessing. No attempt was made to oblige Forthere to go when he refused. A more woebegone set of wretches than the monks of this mission could not be conceived. They looked miserable and terror–stricken. Augustine was supported by the importance and responsibility of his position, Laurentius and Peter were good men and true, but the rest were very poor creatures. Hereric and Godric, alert and armed, brought up the rear, and long did they wave their caps to their beloved comrades, who stood on Aurelian's Wall to see the last of them. Two days afterwards Augustine came back alone. The cowardly terror of his monks had so increased that they sent their prior to entreat the holy Gregory that they should not be compelled to undertake so dangerous, toilsome, and uncertain a journey. But the holy Gregory was inexorable. He sent back Augustine, telling them that "it was better not to begin a good work than to think of desisting from that which had been begun. It behoves you, my beloved sons," he went on, "to fulfil the good work which, by the help of our Lord, you have undertaken, being assured that much labour is followed by an eternal reward. When Augustine returns, humbly obey him in all things." So the cowardly missionaries had to go on; but very few intended to trust their precious skins beyond Arles, or some other safe place for monks in the south of France. Forthere was much amused at the return of Augustine, believing that his stories had played a part in frightening the monks, whom he thoroughly despised.

Meanwhile the plans for the rescue were put in train without delay. On the first day Bassus and Porlor watched the approaches to the Pamphronian villa. Coelred searched the warehouses under the Aventine Hill, where they had all been confined when they first came to Rome. But the place was deserted. Lilla and Forthere went through every street and lane in the Suburra, scanning each face that passed them, but without result. Next day the rescuers were more fortunate. Forthere was again prowling in the vilest purlieus of the Suburra, when he caught sight of a face he recognised. Its owner was muffled in a cloak, which he drew quickly over his head, and ran at speed down a narrow lane. In another moment the hand of Forthere was upon him. His struggles were unavailing, and he was dragged out into the open space at the foot of the Palatine, gagged, and bound. Forthere was almost certain that the face was that of one of the servants of Mystacon. The sun had set, and as soon as it was dusk the vigorous young Englishman half carried and half dragged his captive across the Forum, and down the Appian Way to the garden of the villa of Symmachus. Forthere shared a cubiculum in the villa with his cousins. In this little room he deposited the living bundle, and left him still more securely bound and gagged. He required the rede of Porlor and his other comrades before proceeding further. He found Coelred and Bassus watching the villa of Pamphronius, while Porlor and Lilla returned from fruitless searches soon afterwards. They all began to examine their prisoner.

The man swore that he had never seen his captors before, and had never heard of Mystacon; but they all recognised him, so he was turned on his back, a sword was put on his throat, and he was told that it would be drawn across it if he told a single lie. They then found that Sivel had been several days at Rome, confined in a house in the Suburra; not ill treated, the man declared, but only kept secure. All this time Mystacon had been bargaining for the full price of Sivel to be paid again to him if he was restored, pretending that he was not actually in Rome. Pamphronius offered half the price. He was furious at the way his slaves had been taken from him, and would pay high for the mere spiteful pleasure of getting them into his power. A bargain had at length been struck, and Sivel was to be delivered over to his master the next day, after noon. The man was tied up again, gagged, and secured in the stable.

After a consultation, it was decided that the intended preliminary interview between Lilla and Pamphronius would be unnecessary. They now knew all they wanted to know. They would watch for the arrival of Mystacon and his victim, and effect the rescue by force. All the old fury that they had felt when they first heard that they were to be sold as slaves came back to them—the mortification and the burning shame. Forthere was beside himself with rage at the thoughts of the old insults and of the danger to which his beloved little brother was still exposed. It would be a bad time for Mystacon when he next met the outraged lads. In the morning they looked carefully to their arms; and saw that the horses were ready for a start at any moment, with a small supply of food for each rider.

In the afternoon all five comrades concealed themselves behind a ruined wall, and kept careful watch over the villa of Pamphronius. It was thought better to allow the slave–dealer with his party to enter than to attack him in the road, where they might be interrupted. Forthere had a heavy club, the rest were armed with swords. All had long knives. After an anxious interval, they at length heard many footsteps. First came Mystacon himself, looking proud and self–satisfied, and it was with the greatest difficulty that Forthere could restrain himself from flying at the villain's throat. Then followed a closed litter, carried by slaves, and half a dozen armed men. The doors of the villa were closed, but when Mystacon knocked and uttered the words "Servus Captus" in a loud voice, they were thrown open. The little procession passed in, and they were quickly closed and barred again. The boys rushed towards the doors, furious and baffled; but Porlor made a sign for silence. He then knocked in his turn and said "Servus Captus" in a loud voice. Again the doors were thrown open, and a tall slave appeared. Porlor flew at his throat, and the unexpected assault threw him off his balance. He fell without uttering a sound, and in another instant Forthere had cut his throat. They were now in the large deserted atrium. At the other end there were heavy curtains concealing the great hall, and behind them they heard voices.

The five lads pulled themselves together. They were well armed, but they were about to face heavy odds if the attendants showed fight. They drew their swords. "Ready?" cried Coelred, and the curtains were torn aside. Coelred and Forthere occupied the entrance, while Lilla and Bassus rushed across the hall to the opposite door, to prevent all escape. Porlor then advanced a little and looked round. On the right, at a table, were Pamphronius and Mystacon. On the left was Sivel tied hands and feet, and held by two slaves, with half a dozen armed men behind them. To send the slaves flying and cut the bonds was the work of an instant. Porlor put his arm round Sivel, who flew to his side. The other four lads made a furious onslaught on the armed men. Lilla ran the foremost through the body, Bassus cut down another, and the rest threw down their swords and surrendered. "The first that moves is a dead man," cried Coelred, and Forthere proceeded to secure and gag them. Pamphronius and Mystacon remained to be dealt with. The slave–dealer's face was blanched with fear. Too well he recognised his assailants. But the patrician tried to put a bold face on the matter. "The Holy Father will make you all answer for this outrage," he cried. "Osvitus and Sivellus are my property. I have a right to recover them. They belong to me." This was more than Forthere could stand. To his astonishment Pamphronius found himself seized by the throat and dragged into the middle of the room. "Miserable wretch!" shouted the enraged Englishman. "Lilla is the descendant of God, Sivel is the brother of a goddess. Their fathers were brave warriors who could make a hundred such creatures as you run before them. You are not good enough to be their slave. Kneel down and ask their pardon, or I will smash your skull," and he raised the heavy club he had brought with him. The patrician had never been spoken to in this way in all his life. But he was in mortal terror, and did what he was told. "Shall I kill the niddring?" asked Forthere. "It is not necessary," said Porlor. So he was well tied up, gagged, and rolled into a corner. Then Mystacon was brought forward howling for mercy, and reminding the boys of all his kindness. "For you, vile wretch," said Coelred, "there can be no forgiveness. You had fair warning. We prayed to you to spare us from shame and humiliation, and you had no mercy. We told you then that we would kill you, and Englishmen always keep faith. You must die, and at our hands." He made a sign to Forthere, who ran Mystacon through and through, and he fell dead. "We could not have left Rome with honour," said Coelred, "until this was done."

They all went quickly to the villa of Symmachus, and prepared to mount their horses. Coelred and Porlor had already explained what was about to happen to their kind old friend Otacilia, and taken their leave. "Will you be able to ride, my Sivel?" asked Forthere, as he tenderly embraced his recovered brother. "Anywhere with you," replied the boy. He looked very pale and ill. But there was no time to be lost. They hastily mounted, and, led by Coelred, they galloped down to the Asinarian Gate. The guard turned out, and was attacked furiously by the Englishmen. Two men were cut down, and the rest ran away for help. Bassus and Lilla dismounted to unbar and throw open the gates, and they all galloped out into the starry night. For several hours they rode on at a steady pace, but they did not appear to have been followed. So they stopped for a few hours of rest before sunrise, tethered their horses, and were soon fast asleep. Next day they continued to ride northwards, stopping at noon for a short siesta. All this time they had been too eager while riding, and too tired when resting, to consult much with each other; and they were awakened from their noonday sleep by a great band of armed and mounted warriors who surrounded them. Roughly seized, they were almost in despair when they were dragged before the commander of this force.

But all turned out well. In the handsome warrior with huge drooping moustache Coelred was reminded of the Gothic Prince Athanagild. "He must be of our kindred," he thought, and spoke to him in English, saying that he and his companions were Englishmen, escaping from bondage at Rome, who threw themselves on his protection. The commander was well pleased, received the lads as his countrymen, and enlisted them in his force. It was quite providential that they should have fallen in with these Saxons, for they would be taken by them in safety within easy reach of England. A large Saxon army of nearly 20,000 men had entered the service of Agilulphus, who ascended the throne of the Lombards in 590. But they were not satisfied, and were about to return in a body to their own country on the lower Rhine. There was nothing to stop them, and a few months after our English lads entered their ranks they commenced their march over the Alps, and down the course of the Rhine, a journey presenting physical difficulties, and of great interest, but involving no danger when in such powerful company. This protection continued until our young heroes found themselves on the shores of the German Ocean, facing their own native land. They had resolved to return from the first. They were always confident that the happy day would come. Alca had told them that they were not to die in a distant land. Now they were full of joyful anticipations. Her words, as they always knew, were true. The years of banishment were past and gone for ever.

CHAPTER I

THE STORY OF AUGUSTINE

Six tall young warriors landed one summer morning on the British shore, at Ebbs–fleet, in the Isle of Thanet. They were healthy, and strong, and goodly to look upon. The eldest was a dark Italian, the others with the fair hair and florid complexions of Englishmen. Young Sivel had quite recovered his health and good looks, and all were alert and ready for anything that might betide. It was the last year of the sixth century. Their eager inquiries were answered by the news that some Italian monks and two English lads had landed two years before, and had been allowed to establish themselves at Canterbury, the capital of the kingdom of Kent.

The Jutes who formed the Kentish settlement had been near neighbours of the English on the Continent, and like the royal houses of Bernicia and Deira, the Æskingas of Kent were descended from Woden. King Ethelbert had succeeded his father Imeric in 561, and was now an old man, having reigned for thirty–eight years. He had married a Frankish princess, Bertha, the daughter of Charibert, King of Paris. They were an aged couple, and their son Eadbald had arrived at man's estate. Ethelbert, in spite of one crushing defeat which he received at Wimbledon from Ceaulin and Cutha of Wessex in 568, had been a successful ruler. Northwards his influence extended to the Humber. Sledda, the King of Essex, who married his sister Ricula, acknowledged his sovereignty, and he was received by all the English people south of the Humber as Bretwalda, or overlord. As the Queen Bertha was a Christian, she had always had a priest in attendance upon her, and Luidhard, the Bishop of Senlis, was now her chaplain.

The young warriors became acquainted with these particulars on their arrival, and, as horses could not be procured at once, they set out on foot for Canterbury. The first person they met, superintending some buildings outside the town, was their old friend Peter. He told them that Hereric and Godric were safe and well, and conducted them to the temporary monastery, where the Atheling and his young companion were soon embracing their friends. At length all the boys were again united. Soon they sat down round Hereric, to hear the story of his adventures.

"I and Godric," he said, "saw you all waving to us from the wall of Aurelian as we rode out of Rome, looking so tall and strong, and we were happy in the certainty that, if it was God's will, you would rescue our Sivel. It was a mournful journey, for the unwilling monks did nothing but sigh and groan with coward fear, for which our Forthere was partly answerable. The stories they told, on his authority, were enough to appal even brave men, which they certainly were not. At last they sent back the Prior to entreat the Holy Father to allow them to return to Rome. But Gregory's reply urged them to proceed, and the threats of Augustine obliged them to continue the journey. When we arrived at Arles, the good bishop Vergilius received us most hospitably, and supplied us with the means of carrying ourselves and our goods across France. Here many of the monks feigned sickness, and declared that they could not travel. They were left behind, and others fell away when we passed through towns where there were convents with the Benedictine rule. Queen Brunehaud of Austrasia sent us a Frankish interpreter, but although I could understand him, he had no knowledge of English, and was useless in the interpretation of Augustine's Latin. We went over much of the road we all know so well, and at Amfleet our pitiful condition, when we stood shivering on the sand, came back to our minds.

"Forty very cowardly monks and servants left Rome. Only a fourth part embarked at Amfleet. The party consisted of the Prior Augustine, Laurentius and Peter, Godric and I, and five convent servants. We landed in the island of Thanet, which, as you saw, is separated from Kent by the river Wantsum, nearly a mile in width. All now depended upon us, for the monks could not speak a word to the people, and the Frank sent by Queen Brunehaud was of little or no use. I proposed to Augustine that I should go to the King of the country, announce his arrival, and ask for license to land. The Prior consented, but enjoined me to conceal my rank and name. I rode to Canterbury, and was allowed to have an interview with King Ethelbert and his son Eadbald. The Queen was also present, and the Bishop of Senlis. They received me very kindly, and allowed me to keep my name and rank from them until a time when I could more fitly divulge it. Eadbald did not wish that the monks should be allowed to remain. But the Queen and her bishop strongly urged their cause, and I was sent back with a message that they might remain until Ethelbert had seen them, when they would hear further.

"I returned to Thanet, and, by order of the King, we were supplied with provisions and a house. Here were stored the precious Eastern bales of Coelred and Porlor, five books sent by Gregory, a cross and a picture, and some vestments. A few days afterwards the King came to Thanet, and, sitting in the open air, he ordered our company to be brought before him. He would not let us come into his presence under a roof, lest we should practise any magical arts so as to impose upon him, and get the better of him. The Prior formed the most imposing procession possible under the circumstances. First he came himself bearing a silver cross in his hand, with Laurentius and Peter close behind him, carrying a board with the Son of God painted upon it. Next came Godric and I, while the five convent servants brought up the rear, singing a litany. The King ordered Augustine to deliver his message, and when I explained the royal words, the Prior began to preach in Latin until they all seemed weary, for not a word did they understand. He then told me to repeat what he had said in English more briefly, which I did, giving only the substance of his discourse. The King and those with him seemed very favourably impressed; and not only was permission granted for the monks to live in Canterbury, but a promise was given to supply them with all necessaries, and they had license to preach the new religion."

"All this was due to Hereric alone," interrupted Godric. "The Prior was so long and unintelligible that they were all weary of him, and I am sure that he and his monks would have been sent straight back to France. But when the Atheling stood up, not stooping with a cowl over his head, but erect and graceful, with his golden hair waving in the breeze, the scene changed as if by magic. All eyes were turned to him, and every man present listened eagerly. His voice, as we all know, is sweet and pleasant to hear. He described the wonderful birth and the good works of Jesus. He related the events of His death with such feeling that the Kentish warriors swore great oaths, while Ethelbert sprang to his feet, drew his sword, and waved it over his head with excitement. The monks were terrified. The servants ran away, Augustine and Laurentius cowered down, old Peter alone stood his ground. They understood nothing, but heard the oaths and saw the old King with his drawn sword, vowing vengeance on the Jews. There was a long pause. Then, in a gentler voice, Hereric declared to them that the Son of God had risen from the dead to save all, of every nation under heaven, who turned to Him for comfort and help in the hour of death. When he stopped there was not one present, from the King downwards, who was not willing to grant anything the Atheling might ask."

"Nay," said Hereric, "our Godric goes too far. I was but the instrument to convey Augustine's meaning in English words." "It was not the words," persisted Godric; "it was the gracious person that delivered the discourse, and the way he spoke the words, that won all hearts. Say, my brothers, who was it that deserves the praise?" "Hereric! Hereric!" they all shouted, Forthere more vociferously than the rest. "It is the partial voice of love," resumed Hereric, "which methinks is a little beyond reason. Say no more of me, I pray." "We must speak out," said Forthere, "for the jealous monks will not put thy name into their chronicle, it will be Augustine who did it all." Hereric looked distressed, and the subject was dropped. "We all marched to Canterbury," he continued, "and as we drew near the city, with the cross raised on high, Augustine caused another litany to be sung. We were temporarily lodged in a house, where the Prior at once established and put in force the Regula Monachorum of St. Benedict, in use at St. Andrew's on the Caelian Hill. As the monks were unable to preach intelligibly, they had to be contented with good works for a time." "Yes," said the incorrigible Godric, "they have resorted to signs and wonders and miraculous cures. Augustine performed more miracles in the short time he was at Canterbury than he ever dared to attempt during his former life, under the eye of Gregory at Rome. I can work some of them myself." "So can I," added Forthere, "and I know very well how others are done." The Atheling took no notice of this interruption. "There is," he went on, "on the east side of this city a church built by the Romans, and dedicated to St. Martin, of whom we all heard at the Gate of the Twins outside Amiens, when we were in the power of Mystacon. Here the Frankish Bishop performs Christian services for the Queen. Here the monks say masses and baptize, and Ethelbert himself has submitted to the rite of baptism. But the people hold back, encouraged by Eadbald. Augustine himself is not here. He has hurried back to France to be consecrated by the Bishop of Arles; but before he went he had obtained from the King the grant of another old Roman church, which he has dedicated to St. Peter and St. Paul, and where he has begun to build a monastery. It was there that you met old Peter, who is to be the first Abbot. I have promised to remain here until Augustine returns as Bishop, and until I have taught Laurentius and Peter enough English to enable them to preach to the people. Godric has promised to stay with me, and I know Forthere will also. You all need rest. Besides, our absence has been long, and we have heard no news. I have indeed received a rumour that Ella, our King, is dead, and that our country has been seized by the Bernicians. I fear that it will be a sad home–coming for most of us. Let us give ourselves a little time for preparation to bear our sorrows manfully. I would fain desire that we should all come home together." They unanimously agreed to wait for Hereric, and to go home in his company. It was a great joy to be together again, not only with no one missing, but with one more, the faithful Bassus, added to their company.

"At one time," said Godric, "I feared that our Atheling would become a monk, but now I know that he never will." "Wherefore?" asked the rest. "Because he is in love," replied Godric. Hereric blushed crimson when Godric went on to declare that the name of Braga was often on his lips when he slept. "Truly," said Porlor, "the Prince used to be very fond of our little sister. If he ever had a present to give, it was always for Braga. Do you remember, Coelred, the day when Alca came to visit us at Stillingfleet? That very day Hereric presented little Braga with a pretty scarf. I think it was the last gift she received from any of us." "Hereric is not the only one," said Forthere, wishing to turn attention from the Atheling. "Lilla is also in love, if words spoken in sleep are to be so explained. Twice have I heard him whispering the name of Bergliot." "'Tis true," said Coelred, "that the young Princess's last message was for our Oswith, when she left us on that fatal day." So the light talk went on, full of joyous reminiscences of home and friends; until Hereric said that they must all speak reverently of their loved ones, if they spoke at all, until they knew certainly what had befallen.

During the days that they were waiting for Augustine, the companions helped Peter in his work at the monastery, and Hereric was a good deal employed in teaching English to the monks. In the long summer evenings they engaged in conversations. The most important took place a few days before they all set out for home, and was chiefly conducted by Porlor. He dwelt upon their peculiar position among their countrymen, and suggested rules of conduct. "We are like men apart," he said. "I have felt already in my intercourse with the Æskingas that there is a sort of gulf between us. Our knowledge is immeasurably greater than that of our people. This is not due to any merit of our own, but simply to what has happened. But it is a fact. We are as if we had been born in some later age."

"I do not think that Godric and I know very much more than our countrymen," said Forthere. "It is true," replied Porlor, "that there are differences amongst us. Hereric is as learned as any monk. Sivel understands the laws and the arts of the Greeks. Both can read and write. Lilla and Bassus have acquired a practical knowledge of Roman strategy. Coelred and I have learnt much in our wanderings. Nor can Forthere and Godric be left out. They too have stored up knowledge in their travels and at Rome. No, Forthere; you and Godric are included in all that I shall say. What I feel is that our knowledge is a gift from above, but a gift that we must not use for ourselves only. It is a trust that we are to use for our people, and we must think how it can best be used. My fear is that if we openly proclaim our greater knowledge, if we suddenly begin to tell of what we know and to advise, if we assume that we are wiser than our people, we shall be distrusted, by many disbelieved, and our power for good will pass away. Remember Coifi. All men confess that he is more learned than any one else in Deira, yet who would listen to him in counsel or take his advice? He talks too much, and is without credit or influence."

The others thought a great deal over what Porlor had said. On the next evening Lilla continued the discussion. "We have," he began, "been gifted with rare knowledge and experience, such as our fellow–countrymen can never possess except through equally extraordinary accidents. Our gifts are, as Porlor says, a trust to be used with great care for our country. I have thought long over the matter, and I believe with him that we shall lose the power we may surely gain unless we act wisely. What think you, my Coelred?" "My rede is," said Coelred, "that, accepting the counsel and the warning of Porlor, we should keep silence until such time as the knowledge that any of us possesses above that of our countrymen would be useful to them. Then we should use it, but even then by action rather than by speech. Such conduct will be very hard to adopt, and we shall need much counsel amongst ourselves." Hereric added that he agreed with all that had been said, except that the Princess Alca and their other loved ones must be told all they knew, withholding nothing. In this all concurred. Sivel asked Porlor to propose rules of conduct which might serve as laws for them in this grave matter.

Next day Porlor said, "I have been thinking carefully over a scheme for us to adopt. We are dear friends, tried by companionship in danger, in sorrow, in shame, in hardships, and we know and are certain that our friendship can have no change for ever. We must make a compact to watch over our gifts for the good of our countrymen. We must often take counsel with each other how to maintain our credit and influence, and how to use our gifts prudently and wisely. We will be one body, devoted to the weal of our countrymen, but in a sense apart. We will form a Gemót of close friends and brothers for ever." The rede of Porlor was the judgment of all. They clasped hands upon it, and the Coelred–Gemót was formed.

Soon afterwards Augustine returned in all the importance of his episcopal dignity. His head was busy about the things pertaining to his office. Although as yet he scarcely had a flock, he promptly sent a long series of puzzling questions to Gregory about the degrees of kindred within which members of his flock might marry, and on other abstruse points. He also began to work miracles again, and to quarrel with the Welsh bishops about the calculation of the date of Easter. He did not conceal his satisfaction that Hereric was about to leave him, which surprised the simple–minded Atheling, but which did not surprise Godric or Forthere. Hereric explained to the King of Kent that he was a Prince of the house of Deira, and Ethelbert ordered an escort to see him and his friends as far as the Humber. A message was also sent to London, to secure hospitality for them from Sledda, the King of Essex. Ethelbert wished them a cordial farewell. They also had a friendly parting from their old teachers, Laurentius and Peter, who gave their blessings.

They first rode to London, then sparsely inhabited, and saw the old Roman walls, the ruins of the temple of Diana on the hill, and the miliarium whence all the main roads diverged. Sledda and his wife Ricula received them well in the ruined old prætorium near the temple, and sent them on their way with a fresh relay of horses. In two days they came to the country of the Gainas, and reached Godric's home near the banks of the Idle. To the boy's great joy he found his old father Ulchel still alive, but failing, and their meeting was most pathetic. The friends were received very hospitably, and Bassus, who was ill, remained behind with Godric until they should be sent for by Coelred. The rest pressed northwards, with pack–horses bearing the precious bales. They intended to proceed in a body to Bilbrough, and hear all the news, bad and good, from their kind old friend Saebald the Fairfax, before they ventured to seek their homes. Going rapidly along the old Roman road, they came in sight of the well–known Ingrish Hill with feelings of deep anxiety.

CHAPTER II

HOME AGAIN

Saebald, chief of the Billingas, had just returned from visiting his outposts on the Wharfe. He was standing at the gate of his burg when he beheld six horsemen and some pack animals advancing towards him up the hill. As they came nearer he saw that the men were fully armed and accoutred, but he could not guess who they could be. They rode up, dismounted, and stood before him. He looked from one to the other with doubt and astonishment, until his eyes rested upon Sivel, whom he recognised at once. In a moment they were in each other's arms, and Sivel spoke the names of his companions. It was long before Saebald could recognise his little friends in these stalwart young warriors. His surprise was extreme, but his welcome was hearty and cordial. He showed unfeigned joy at their marvellous reappearance. "Knowing your friendship," said Coelred, "we came here first to hear from you all that has happened in our absence, for we know nothing. We did not dare to go to our homes, fearing to find empty hearths." He then very briefly told the story of the kidnapping, said that they had had many strange adventures, but that they had sworn to each other to come home together, and that at length they had succeeded. "Our stories will keep," he added, "but our anxiety is so great that we cannot wait longer for your news." Saebald insisted upon their having supper first, and then they went out and sat round the Billinga chief on the hillside.

"You have given me a melancholy task," said the Fairfax, "for I shall cause grief and pain to each one of my young friends. No anxiety was felt until you had been missing for two days. Then search was made in every direction, and vigilant watch was kept on the rivers. The Princess Bergliot was overwhelmed with grief, and told some story about the curse of a nixy, but neither she nor the dog could guide the search farther than to the mouth of Stillingfleet beck. Guthlaf stopped every boat that passed up and down the river, hanging all the crews whose answers did not satisfy him. By this means many sea–thieves were disposed of." "But not our sea–thieves," said Porlor, "for they were all hanged by the Franks when we were landed." "At last," continued Saebald, "anxiety gave way to despair. There was mourning in many homes, for no boys were ever so beloved. My poor Forthere, your loss must be told first. Verbeia, your gentle mother, never held up her head again. She died of grief within a month." Forthere and Sivel bowed their heads to hide their tears. The eyes of the rest were full, for too surely they felt that worse was coming.

"Towards the end of the year," Saebald went on, "a great calamity befell Deira. Our King died very suddenly with suspicion of poison. Some looked askance at Coifi; for the dirge he chanted at Aldby when King Ella returned victorious from the borders of Elmet was remembered against him. Things looked even more suspicious when it was known that Coifi had taken refuge with King Ethelric of Bernicia. Ella was scarcely in his grave before news arrived that the King of Bernicia was advancing upon York with a large army, led by his two fierce sons, Ethelfrith and Theobald. Elfric, the unconquered Atheling, hastily assembled a force to oppose them. The gathering was at York. I came first with the Billingas. Seomel, Guthlaf, and Brand, with their men, were close on my heels. But there was no time to wait for more. The Heslingas were to guard the Princess and little Edwin, the hope of Deira, at Aldby. Elfric then advanced to encounter heavy odds. Battle was joined beyond the forest. We were overpowered by numbers. First the noble Guthlaf fell, like a stag at bay surrounded by the dogs. Seomel was slain while valorously warding off blows from the Atheling. Finally, Elfric himself, after dealing death around him, bowed his proud head and breathed his last. Brand and I were fighting near, and when we saw that all was lost, we drew off our men. 'Edwin must be taken out of the land or he will be murdered. The sons of Ida are merciless.' These were Brand's words as we galloped towards York. The old warrior said he would go to Aldby and secure the child, if possible inducing the Princess to come with him, while I placed relays of fresh horses outside York and at Tadcaster.

"Old Brand, as I have been told, broke the fatal news to the Princess, and urged upon her that there was no time to lose, and that she and Edwin must escape out of the country. She replied that her duty was to remain; but that she would entrust the child to her father's oldest and most faithful friend. There was no time to be lost. It was known that the Bernician army was marching rapidly on York. The Princess Alca folded the child in a tender embrace, and put it into the arms of Brand. 'Most valorous warrior,' she said, 'I entrust to your care the hope of Deira.' Her own resolution was immutable. Brand knelt and kissed the hand of the elf–maiden, then mounted his horse and galloped away. I waited with fresh horses on the Mount at York, and rode with them to Nehalennia's ford. There I bade farewell to old Brand, my beloved uncle, and swore obedience to young King Edwin, returning disconsolately to Bilbrough.

"Brave old Ingeld, with the Heslingas, remained as a guard at Aldby. But they were not molested. Ethelric advanced to York, and, as resistance was unavailing, the country submitted. We had no Atheling to lead us. Hereric was lost, his brother Osric was a child. The Bernician King was an old man. He appointed Coifi Priest of Woden, with charge of all the sacred images at Godmundham. Four years afterwards he died, and was succeeded by his son Ethelfrith the Wild—a fierce, dangerous man, hating all opposition, and often false to his plighted word. He had twice asked for Alca in marriage, but had been repulsed.

"The Princess continued to live at Aldby, with the children of Elfric, Osric and Bergliot, the Lady Volisia, and her young daughters Braga and Nanna. Worn out with grief and anxiety, Volisia died a year after the coming of the Bernicians. Month after month, year after year, passed away, and nothing more was heard of Brand and little Edwin. One day an aged British priest, named Urien, arrived at Aldby and asked for an interview with the Princess. He came owing to a solemn promise he had made to Brand when he died in Gwynedd. Urien brought up the boy after Brand's death, but one day Edwin said that he would leave Gwynedd, and go to a country where Englishmen dwelt. The boy departed, and Urien had heard nothing more of him. So the old man kept his vow, undertook the long journey to tell Alca, and then returned. The Princess remained quite confident that Edwin was safe, and all knew that she must be right.

"The last event I have to relate is the strangest of all. About a year ago King Ethelfrith again asked for Alca in marriage, and she consented on conditions. She sent for us, the surviving thegns of Deira, and said that she only lived for her country, and that she would consent to be Queen of Bernicia on condition that Ethelfrith would solemnly declare that Edwin was King of Deira, and that he only ruled until the child was old enough to assume the government. 'The King has consented,' continued the Princess, 'and is here,' Ethelfrith came into the great hall and made the declaration in our presence. He looked haggard and fierce, but cowed. Then Alca became his Queen. She has a beautiful child named Oswald. Ethelfrith is devoted to Alca, but we all think that his devotion is more like terror than love. A glance from her stills his rage, and he almost cowers in her presence. Fierce, cruel, and suspicious when he is away from the Queen, her presence at once calms and softens him. All who are under her protection are safe. It is evident that he dare not molest them. It may be her goodness and purity which effect this change, but she must also possess some power which is incomprehensible to us. Thus we his enemies, the thegns of Deira, are not molested, though we must obey the King's summons to war. And now, my boys, my sad story is told. I see that you are overwhelmed with grief, and it is best that you should all seek rest."

The lads got little sleep that night. The wounds were too fresh, the grief too acute during the first hours. They wept long and silently over their lost ones and the desolated hearths. In the morning they besought Saebald to make their plans for them. He said that he would go with Forthere and Sivel to Ulfskelf. The other four should cross the Ouse at Acaster, whence Lilla would visit his home at Hemingborough. "You must go to your homes at once," he said, "and assume your positions among your people. On the first of the next moon you shall all meet again at Stillingfleet, and thence fare onward to Bambrough, where the Queen now is. I will send a messenger in advance with the wonderful news of your arrival, to prepare her mind. The little girls, too, must not be taken quite by surprise. A great war with the Scots is threatened, so you must promptly offer your swords to King Ethelfrith."

It was so arranged. Hereric, Coelred, Porlor, and Lilla (Oswith) rode over to Stillingfleet, where Tanwin, the old and faithful servant of Seomel, had kept things in order and led the Stillingas since his master's death. He was overjoyed at the sight of them, and it was long before he could believe his eyes. Hereric and Coelred, he declared, were Elfric and Seomel over again, as he remembered them when they first bore arms. They went slowly up the hill to the deserted hall, their hearts too full for words. An aged dog was lying on a heap of ferns in the yard. "Shuprak," they cried, and the faithful old dog raised itself on its forelegs, gave a joyful bark, and fell forward. The lads burst into tears. It was the last straw. When they ran up, Shuprak was dead. Tanwin said that it had lain for months without moving, and taking little food. They made its grave on the other side of the beck, near the place where it generally ran into the forest. As they covered its remains with earth, slowly and reverently, Porlor said, "Suparaka is Yama. We will not be less worthy than Yudisthira." The lads understood each other.

Next day the Stillingas assembled and swore that Coelred and Porlor were their leaders. Each ceorl walked past his chiefs and touched their weapons in token of fealty—the ceremony of the wapentake. Sad as it all was, it was necessary to give a great feast in the old hall. Lilla wished his friends to accompany him to Hemingborough, where the same scenes were repeated. The Hemingas crowded round the son of Guthlaf, and swore that Oswith (they did not yet know him by the name of Lilla) was their leader, also performing the wapentake ceremony. They might well be proud of the splendid young warrior as he went round to each man, renewing the acquaintance of his boyhood. Again and again, both at Stillingfleet and Hemingborough, the tale of their disappearance, of the long–continued but fruitless search, of the despair of their parents, was repeated to the friends, with many details passed over by Saebald. They heard about the great battle in which their fathers fell, and were told of the numerous losses on the field, and of the sullen submission of the survivors, while curses were heaped on the head of Ethelfrith the Wild. Their homes seemed desolate without the loved faces of their dear ones and the welcome bark of old Shuprak. It was indeed a sad homecoming.

They were glad when, at the appointed time, Forthere and Sivel arrived from Ulfskelf, where they too had passed a mournful time. The gentle mother of Forthere had been killed by extremity of grief. Old Brand had died far away from home and kindred. The hearthstone was quite cold at Ulfskelf.

The six lost ones, found again, set out together from Stillingfleet and rode northwards into Bernicia. Pack–horses, with their precious bales, were in charge of old Tanwin and his son Froda, and of Ingebrand, the faithful servant of Elfric, who had now attached himself to Hereric. In three days they reached Bambrough, the capital of Bernicia. It was an almost impregnable place. The fortress rises up from a solitary rock of black basalt overlooking the sea. The building of Ethelfrith's time was constructed by his grandfather Ida in A.D. 550, on the site of a fort built by order of Agricola, and was named Bebbanburgh after his wife Bebba. The interior court was extensive, with a great hall of timber, and many rooms opening into the hall or directly upon the court. The whole had been surrounded by a quickset hedge at first, for which a stone wall was afterwards substituted.

Orders had been given for the suitable reception of the guests, and they were soon ushered into the presence of the Queen. Alca was more stately and more beautiful than when they parted from her at Aldby. Her cheering words had sunk into their hearts, and had inspired their actions, keeping alive hope when their need was greatest. Coelred and Porlor regarded her with such devoted love that no one else ever found a place in their hearts. The adoration of the others was little less profound. She embraced them all as dear brothers returned after a long absence, but with no surprise. "I knew you would return," she said, "and I know by your looks that you have returned unscathed by sin or shame. You have returned, strong and bold and full of knowledge, to serve your country in its sore need. May the All–father bless and preserve you!"

Then the girls and little Osric ran in, and after the first warm greetings, Bergliot burst into tears at the thought of the last parting with her boys. The nixy's curse had always been ringing in her ears. It would cease now. She put her small hand shyly into her dear Oswith's large one, while Braga nestled close to Hereric, and Nanna tried to divide herself between her brothers Coelred and Porlor. The rest of the day was passed very happily, and on the morrow the young warriors were to be presented to Ethelfrith at a great audience.

Ethelfrith sat in the hall, surrounded by his thegns. He scowled savagely as the young men came in and stated their names and positions, offering him their swords. But when Alca entered and looked at him with a calm searching glance, his mien changed and he welcomed them warmly enough, accepting their services with thanks. Next day Coelred sent for Bassus and Godric, who arrived at Bambrough soon afterwards.

In the following days the young men, one after the other, related all they had seen and heard to Alca in the minutest detail. They told her of their conversations at Canterbury, of their perplexities, of their proposed Gemót; and they besought her guidance and advice. The precious bales were opened before her and offered for her acceptance. There were gold ornaments of eastern workmanship, precious stones, spices, myrrh and frankincense, the small parcel of bdellium presented by the Guru, boxes of sandal–wood, fine calico and muslin, besides many bags of gold coin. She insisted upon Coelred and Porlor retaining the money, and they afterwards dug a hole by the side of Shuprak's grave, which became the "uvaru" for their treasures. Alca kept the bdellium and a few things to please her young friends, and distributed the rest among the delighted girls. Alca had had described to her the whole realm of France; the buildings and people of Rome, Constantinople, Antioch, Alexandria, and Ujjayani; the navigation of the Eastern Mediterranean, the Red and Erythraean Seas, and the German Ocean; the habits and customs of many peoples; the religion of Christ, with Porlor's version of some heresies; and the religions of the Fire–worshippers and the Hindus; besides innumerable anecdotes and stories. In the minds of most people such an enormous mass of fresh and surprising information could not have been assimilated. It would simply have caused utter confusion. But it was not so with Alca. She told the boys that she would take a long time to think over all they had told her, and arrange everything clearly in her mind. When she had done so, she promised to take them into her counsels, to consult with them, and to let them know her thoughts. But first they must all fight bravely in the coming struggle in which their country would be engaged.

Ædan, the King of the Scots, was assembling an immense army with the object of invading Northumbria and destroying Ethelfrith, his forces, and his kingdom. Ethelfrith's followers were very numerous, and both he and his brother Theobald were valiant soldiers. But they were ignorant of the art of war, head–strong, and without judgment. Alca consulted privately with her young friends. It was ascertained that Ædan would advance up the valley of the Eden, intending thence to pour his forces down the western valleys and converge on York. To defeat this plan Lilla and Bassus conceived the brilliant idea of imitating the strategy of Narses in the Median Mountains. Ethelfrith was to advance down the valley of the Eden with the main body of his army, while his brother Theobald occupied the mountains and threatened the enemy's flank, but with strict orders to avoid an engagement. Lilla and Bassus were to remain with the King and direct the campaign. Coelred and Porlor were to be at the head of the troops gathered from between Ouse and Derwent. Saebald, Forthere, and Sivel were to head all the levies from the west of the Ouse. Hereric and Godric were to fight in company with the thegns and their followers from the east of Derwent. Thus all the Deirans would be with the King, as well as part of the Bernician army. The detached force of Theobald would consist wholly of Bernicians.

"But how are we to induce King Ethelfrith to adopt all these measures?" said Bassus. "Leave that to me," replied the Queen. "You and Lilla, as you have named our Oswith, are experienced men of the world. You now have to practise that forbearance for the cultivation of which you have resolved to take counsel with each other. Take care that Ethelfrith gives all the orders, and so manage as that he will think that they all originated from himself. Let him have the glory, and it will be well. It is sufficient for you to serve your country as brave and faithful warriors."

Soon afterwards there was a great assembly of chiefs in the hall of Bambrough to hear the final instructions of the King. To the astonishment of Lilla and Bassus, they heard Ethelfrith make the following speech:—"I have conceived the plan of marching down the valley of the Eden to meet the enemy in front, while my brother with a picked force of Bernicians will threaten their flank from the mountains. But it is my strict and positive order to Theobald to avoid an engagement. Lilla and Bassus are to remain near my person. The whole Deiran force will form part of my division, and I shall have my eye on their chiefs, especially on the young men who lately offered me their swords. My plan is perfect, and victory is certain if our men do their duty. Prepare to march in a few days."

Ethelfrith believed that all the arrangements were originated by himself when the army set out from Bambrough in two divisions, to fight one of the most decisive battles in the dawn of our history.