"The thing must be!" cried the vikings, and Hungwar glared and laughed. "I ask nothing better," he said. "To-morrow, boaster, I will slay thee."
"To-morrow we will see who has been boasting," answered Wulnoth. "Guthrun, thou art noble of heart, though thou art our foe. To thee I trust Edgiva my beloved."
"She shall suffer no harm while I live," answered Guthrun; and Wulnoth waved his hand and departed, and went back to tell the King how Edgiva was held prisoner. And Guthrun took Edgiva and gave her into charge of his wife, and set a guard at the door of her tent, and so kept he his word to Wulnoth.
Now, this is how the host of the Danes were defeated at Ethandune, and how the field of slaughter was left to the Saxons, and this is how Edgiva was seen by Wulnoth in the Danish camp, and how Wulnoth challenged Hungwar to holmgang with him, and Guthrun promised to protect Edgiva the Beautiful.
Now, on the morning following the battle, Wulnoth rose and donned his war gear, and took his shield and his axe; and he girded on the great sword which he had found amongst the ashes in ruined Lethra, and set forth for the Danish camp; and with him went the King, and many a thane, and a great following of the soldiers.
And to meet them came Guthrun and his holdas, and the Danish vikings; and a truce was proclaimed, and death pronounced upon any man of either camp who drew sword or made brawl that day.
And with Guthrun was brought Edgiva the Beautiful, guarded by the vikings, and as the prisoner of Hungwar the son of Regner Lodbrok.
And Guthrun greeted the King as one brave soldier should greet another, and he said—
"O King, thou who wast brave enough to come alone to my camp, had I found thee then, surely I had slain thee; but if thou come to-day, thou shalt be my guest, and with my own life will I defend thee."
And Alfred answered him with courteous words, and said that could they only be at peace, they might be good friends, and feast together often.
Then did Osric stand forward, and make proclamation, and say that Wulnoth the Wanderer declared Hungwar the son of Regner Lodbrok to be nithing and coward, and slayer of bound men, and torturer of women and children, and that he challenged him to battle alone, with none to help either. And this was to be the condition of the fight—that if Hungwar conquered Wulnoth, then he should have his life to keep or to take as he chose, and he should receive again the Raven Banner, and Edgiva should be his to sell or to keep. But if Wulnoth conquered, then Edgiva should be given back to freedom to do as she list, and Hungwar's life should belong to Wulnoth.
And the Danes and Saxons said ay to this, and swore to observe the conditions; and then all men drew back, and looked on breathlessly, and the two champions in their armor, and holding shield and axe, advanced and stood alone. And Wulnoth said—
"At last, Hungwar! At last we meet, and I have lived for this, these many years."
"And thou wilt rue it forever after," was the grim answer. "With this axe will I slay thee."
"Seest thou this sword, Hungwar?" laughed Wulnoth. "I picked it from the ruins of Lethra, and I have kept it for this day. It has wearied waiting for a song to sing, and thou canst guess what song that will be, and whose it will be. So now let us make an end of the matter, for speech is for women, and deeds are for men."
So they drew near, and all there wondered how this fight would go. For though Hungwar was older than Wulnoth, he had the strength of ten; and his great muscles stood up in masses upon his arms, and with his grizzled hair and flowing beard and moustache, he looked like Thor himself in his might.
And from his parted lips his teeth showed yellow and black, like fangs; and his bloodshot eyes rolled angrily; yet deep in his heart was there a black fear, for he dreaded Wulnoth more than a score of champions.
And the Wanderer looked strong and mighty, and his face was full of joy light; for was he not fighting for the freedom of his Princess, and now avenging the wrongs done to her brother, and her father, and his own father and mother?
"Art ready, Hungwar?" he asked, and Hungwar growled, "I am weary of waiting," and smote at him a mighty blow, that seemed as if nought could turn it aside.
But Wulnoth caught it on his shield; and then he struck in turn, and Hungwar caught his blow and was unharmed.
Then like circles of light did the axes swing and play, and the blows fell fast, and the shields groaned and shivered; and at last Hungwar's split in twain, though it was of stoutest oak, and lined with triple leather, and studded with massive bosses.
And when Wulnoth saw that, he swung his axe upwards with all his might, and cut clean through the handle of Hungwar's weapon, as he had cut through the handle of his mace in the long past; and then he cast aside his own axe and shield, and drew the great sword with the blue-veined steel blade; and he laughed aloud, though his breath came in deep gasps, so hard had he labored.
"Now, Hungwar, now we have finished this child's play with shield and axe; now draw thy sword and let us have a good song."
But Hungwar never answered; only he looked into Wulnoth's face with eyes of hate, which were yet eyes of fear; for he who had never feared death, now feared, not the dying, but the man by whom death was to come.
"The maiden will be freed," said the vikings to each other. "There is a shadow on the spirit of Hungwar, and the Valkyres tarry for him."
And Hungwar drew his sword and advanced, and now it was a man's game, indeed; for Hungwar's shield was broken, and Wulnoth had cast his aside, and the great blades must be sword and shield alike.
They clashed together, and the sparks flew as from a smith's anvil; and each champion strove, his eye fixed on his foe; and each knew that death was near.
"By Thor!" growled Guthrun, "'t is a mighty fight, and one that it does a man good to see. They are champions both." And to that a holda said—
"Ay, for Hungwar is fighting for life, and Wulnoth is fighting for love; and methinks that love will win."
And presently Hungwar's sword was smitten from his hand, and all looked for Wulnoth to make an end. But he cast aside his own sword, and with his bare hands he gripped his foe; and they two strained and swayed in their efforts; and Hungwar grinned in rage to think that Wulnoth was putting him to shame by thus refusing to take advantage of him; and in their struggling the berserker rage came upon him, and he bent forward and gashed Wulnoth's cheek with his fangs, crying—
"A mark for a mark, Wanderer."
"And a dog's death for a mad dog who bites," cried Wulnoth angrily; and he put out all his strength,—the strength which Osth the giant had taught him—and he squeezed and squeezed, and Hungwar gasped, and smote blindly with his fists, and his lips parted, and the foam came from them, and it was tinged with blood.
And Wulnoth squeezed yet harder, and the muscles gave, and the great bones yielded, and the ribs snapped; and Hungwar gave a gasp and became limp, so that Wulnoth cast him helpless to the earth, and knelt beside him.
"There, son of Regner!" he cried. "I have beaten thee with but my bare hands. Now dost thou yield to me and sue for life?"
"Thus do I yield," answered Hungwar; and he raised himself and he plucked a knife from his girdle where he had hidden it, though they had agreed that they would wear no daggers, and he struck a bitter blow at Wulnoth.
The Wanderer sprang back only just in time, and even so the knife left a crimson trail on his brown arm; and he seized his sword from where he had flung it down.
"I swore to slay thee with this," he cried; "and yet but now I thought to spare thee, seeing that I have shamed thee who hast bitten like a dog and stabbed in secret like a nithing. It is thy fate, and thou shalt have it. Die, Hungwar, and go to thy brother. This is for my father and mother, and for Edgiva and Guthred, and for their father, the King of Lethra. Thus is the debt paid and the story ended." And with that he smote, and Hungwar the mighty viking lord fell back slain.
Then did Alfred speak with Guthrun and ask him whether he would yield; and Guthrun said nay, but that he would go back to his camp and make the best stand that he might.
And Edgiva the Beautiful was set free; and she thanked Guthrun for his kindness, and went back with Wulnoth and the King; while the vikings took up the body of Hungwar and buried it nigh that place, and raised a mound over it, and sang his death-song with dark and gloomy hearts.
Now, back in his camp, Guthrun thought dark thoughts, for his heart was heavy, and he saw not what to do. And the Saxon King placed men all round, so that none might come in and none might go out; and so for a fortnight did things stand, and there was no food amongst the Danes, and they tasted of the hunger which they had so often made others endure.
Each day did the Saxon King send and ask them whether they would yield to him, and each day they sent back an answer that they would not. But Alfred made no attempt to attack them, for he knew that hunger must do its work in the end.
And at the end of that fortnight Guthrun called a great meeting of all his warriors, and asked them what should be done—
"We wait in vain for aid," he said, "and this Alfred grows in power each day. Men have wearied of our cruelty and hate us for our deeds; and methinks sometimes that I hate myself for having taken part in some things that have gone. Now, what can we do? We can stay till hunger slays us—but that is not a warrior's death."
"We can go forth sword in hand and die like heroes," said one holda; and the others nodded.
"That is a hero death," Guthrun said, "but it is death, and life is sweet."
"We may not go back to the Northland with this shame tale," said another. "Landless and nameless should we then be, and all men would scoff at us."
"This England is a fair land, and plenteous," said Guthrun, "and here it would be good to stay."
"And here we cannot stay, unless it be in the death-sleep," was the reply he received.
"Softly," he replied. "Here we can abide as Alfred's thanes. If we swear obedience to him, he will give us land, and we can live in peace; and that is better than this perpetual slaying and harrying, and better than being slain."
Then the holdas were silent, and they pondered; and at last one said gravely—
"Now, Guthrun, the matter is thus. Alfred may do as thou sayest if we are Christians; but Alfred will not do so if we are worshippers of our gods. For myself," and he laughed bitterly, "I care little what gods I worship, and the gods of our land have failed us."
Now again all the holdas bent their brows and thought. And Guthrun spoke and said that long he had pondered this thing; and that he felt that the gods of the Northland were no gods, but only the creatures of sagas; but that the Lord Christ was a God indeed, who had been on earth amongst men, and had been spoken with.
And he told them how the maiden Edgiva had spoken with him concerning the matter; and how she had said that Wulnoth the Wanderer was a Christian. And he had determined to abide by the issue of the fight; and to say that did Wulnoth conquer, then the Lord Christ was the true God; and that if Hungwar conquered, that the gods of the Northland were the mightier.
"Ye know how the fight went," he said—"how Hungwar was shamed, and broken, and slain. To my mind, the Christians' God is the true God; and if Alfred will but make terms with us, and accept our service, I, for my part, am right ready to accept the faith of this land and remain here in peace."
Then rose one old graybeard of a warrior, and he spoke, leaning on his axe, and his voice was deep and full, and he said—
"What is life, O holdas? We know not. Nor know we what death is, whether it be a beginning or an end. Whence come we? We know not; nor know we whither we go, beyond the wild dreams of the ancient times. 'T is as when we sit around the welcome fire in the dark winter, and without the tempest roars. Lo, through the window a little bird comes, storm-driven and nigh perished; and for a little space it flutters in the light and warmth, and then flies out into the darkness again. So are we. For a little space we are here—we came from a darkness of which we know nothing; and presently the death-song is sung, and into the darkness we go again. Now, O holdas, if this Christian creed can tell us aught of the darkness, and make our pathway light, then I say it is a good religion, and one for men to think of; and I for one say Skoal to the Lord Christ if this be so."[11]
Long and earnestly did the Danes ponder; and finally Guthrun himself went to King Alfred, and spoke with him, saying that for a man to change his religion simply to save his life was a poor thing, and that he and his must know what they did, ere they accepted the Lord Christ for their God.
And then did the King rejoice, not only because he was glad that the Danes should become Christians, but also because it helped him from a hard problem. For, though he had conquered the Danes, he saw not how to utterly make an end of them and drive them out; and if they would stay and be his servants, then they would be of help to him indeed.
So he talked long with Guthrun, and he sent priests and learned men to converse with the holdas; and the end of the matter was that Guthrun and all his host said that they would put aside their gods, and become Christians.
And then there was rejoicing throughout the land; and on one day the host were baptized, and Wulnoth and Guthrun at the same time, and King Alfred became their godfather and sponsor; and together did they kneel and receive blessing, and swear to live to the honor of Christ the Lord.
Then did King Alfred give broad lands to the Danes; and those lands in part which were most open to attack from other invaders. East Anglia and part of Mercia did fall to their lot, and in the very place where they had carried fire and sword and slaughtered King Edmund, did Guthrun build churches and walk in God's way.
And these lands which the King gave to Guthrun, together with the land of Northumbria, became known as the Danelagh; and so it continued for many years.
And of Guthrun but little more is said; only this, that during the rest of his life he faithfully kept his promise, and never rebelled against Alfred the King, but ruled his people wisely, and was the King's liegeman and friend.
Now, this is how Wulnoth went holmgang with Hungwar the Dane, and slew him, and set Edgiva the Beautiful free; and this is how Guthrun and his host turned to the Lord Christ, and dwelt in the Danelagh.
Now, after these things Wulnoth pondered long in his mind, for he was anxious to set out again to seek Prince Guthred if still he might be alive, and yet he knew not where, in all the wide world, he should seek.
Nor could Wyborga help him, for now she was very old and feeble, and she lived in one of the holy houses, and rarely saw strangers.
But once Wulnoth saw her and asked her whither he should go; and Wyborga told him to wait patiently and to take the first duty that should come, and then the way should be revealed to him.
"Indeed, my Princess and sweet love," Wulnoth said to Edgiva when they talked of this thing, "I am rather tried about this matter. In the past thy brother put this promise upon me and I gave it right willingly; but here from boyhood to manhood have I grown, and I do not even know if he may be alive. I am minded sometimes to give up this, and to take the joy which thou dost hold out to me, if still a royal princess will marry one who is nameless."
"Now, nameless!" laughed Edgiva proudly. "Whose name is better known than that of Wulnoth; and has not the King given thee broad lands for thine own?"
"And I am going wandering again, and leaving them for any to do as they like with."
"Nay, thou hast friends in plenty, who will look to thy possessions if thou art away. My rede is this, Wulnoth; wait till the next duty comes, as Wyborga has counselled thee, and then, if nothing comes of it, I will say that thou hast searched faithfully, and that thou canst, without shame, rest from thy labors, as from a hopeless task."
"So be it, dear love," Wulnoth answered. "Thou hast never counselled me wrongly yet, and by thy rede will I abide."
Now, not long after this the King sent to call Wulnoth to his side, and he spake to him and said—
"Now, Wulnoth, my faithful friend, I have a task for thee." And Wulnoth said gleefully—
"That is good hearing, King, for a man grows rusty quickly if he be not at work."
"Little fear of Wulnoth growing rusty," laughed the King, "for he is forever anxious to be doing. But listen, friend. This is the burden of it. Thou knowest that in Northumbria there have ever been troubles, for the people there quarrel amongst themselves, Northumbrians and Danes together. Now of late, Halfdane—ah! thou knowest him?"
"Right well, King," answered Wulnoth grimly. "Well, what of him?"
"This Halfdane gained all power in Northumbria, and he and his barbarians ruled as with rods of iron. Now tidings have come that Halfdane is dead."
"Dead!" cried Wulnoth. "So much the worse! I thought perchance that it was to slay him thou wouldst have me go."
"What a warrior art thou, Wulnoth! thou wouldst go against a host and laugh at it! Nay, Halfdane is dead—slain by one of his own holdas in a drunken brawl. Now the people of Northumbria are divided and have no leader. The Danes have none they can place at their head without endless quarrels following, and the Northumbrians have no king either. Now, this is my desire, that thou speed north to Bishop Eadred, and urge him to seek for a chieftain to be their king—one who will be of the Christian faith, and who will be true to me so that I have no cause to fear war in the north.
"Mercia has acknowledged me, and the Welsh are content that I should be their champion against the Danes, from whom they have suffered much. Cantua has no power now, and East Anglia is held by Guthrun for me. London welcomes me, and if the North be but friendly, then all England will be as one, and we can bend all our thoughts towards resisting any fresh attacks from the Danes—for more are certain to come ere long."
"So long as there are vikings in Denmark, and ships to sail the sea, they will come," answered Wulnoth. "Well, O King, I will do thy bidding and seek out the Bishop."
"Methinks," said the King slowly, "I might do worse than try to have thee made king there." But to that Wulnoth answered quickly—
"Nay, nay, Alfred, that may not be. I am no kingly man. I should rule by hard blows, and have no head for the business of state. Each man to his own trade, O King, and mine is fighting—not ruling and law making."
"Perchance thou art right, Wulnoth," the King answered. "Thou art wise at any rate, for 't is no light task to be a king."
"And no king do I desire to be," answered Wulnoth; and then he went in haste and bade adieu to Edgiva, and saddled his horse and started off with no better company than his sword and his axe, and his good shield slung at his back.
And from Wessex he rode northwards into Mercia, and there he met with King Guthrun, who had gone thither on business from East Anglia; and with the Dane he tarried a day and a night while his good steed rested.
Now, Wulnoth thought that perchance Guthrun might know something of what became of Guthred, and he asked him if he had ever heard the sons of Regner Lodbrok speak of the matter.
"Ay," answered Guthrun, "and I have often thought that it was but a poor thing to sell a lad, and a king's son, into slavery, for that is what they did. I know not of a certainty, but I heard that the boy was sold to a Danish holda, who soon afterwards sailed for England in the days when the first invasion was. That is all I know. Most likely he has died long since."
"I fear that it must be so," sighed Wulnoth, and his heart felt sad as he thought of a king's son sold into such slavery. But then he thought of what Wyborga had said—how she had prophesied that he and the Prince and Edgiva should all meet again, and the Prince should reign in another land; and that seemed a very hard saying to him.
Well, after bidding farewell to Guthrun, Wulnoth resumed his journey and rode northwards; and everywhere he saw the tokens of the bad times that had been, for the land lay desolate and lonely, and there were no people to till it. And in those fields where the grass grew darkest and longest he knew that the war game had been played, and that the grass grew because men lay buried beneath.
For a great part of the way his road led through vast forests, of which many abounded in England in those days, or across wild and desolate plains and over steep rocky hills; and so he journeyed through the realm of Mercia and came at length into the confines of Northumbria. Here the signs of cruel war were even more frequent, and he passed whole towns which were only deserted, smoke-blackened ruins now, where still the bones of men lay, picked clean by wild dogs or wolves.
Thus his road led, nor was it without adventure that he journeyed, for twice was he attacked by masterless men, and had to swing his axe and deal lusty blows ere he could pass on.
But such things troubled Wulnoth little, for the robbers were but half-hearted, as every one appeared to be, and trouble and dismay seemed everywhere.
"Now," thought Wulnoth to himself, "in sooth the King is wise. It would be a good thing to have a wise ruler here—one who would bring things to order again and lay the land under the plough. 'T is a shame to see it all idle like this, and makes a man feel that the war game is evil, and not good, no matter how it seems in the heat of the fight."
For two days Wulnoth rode, asking for tidings of the Bishop, and hearing from those who cared to return a civil answer—and that was not all—that he was still farther northward, seeking to lead the people to Christ.
Now it chanced, as he rode forward through a wood, that he suddenly heard the sounds of strife, and, putting spurs to his horse, he galloped forward, guided by the sounds, and came upon four masterless men—black-haired Danes every one—who had surrounded a man and were seeking to slay him, while he, with his back to a tree, flourished a long staff and kept them at bay.
"Hallo, nithings! rascals!" thundered Wulnoth as he came upon the scene. "What, four to one, and he unarmed! Shame upon you! If you want to play that game, here is one who is ready for it." And with that he smote one knave a lusty blow and sent him sprawling, while the man cracked the pate of another, and the remaining pair ran away as fast as their legs could carry them.
"Thou art come in good time, friend," the man said, leaning on his staff and gazing at the Wanderer; and at the sound of that voice Wulnoth started and stared anxiously.
Poorly dressed was this man, and his brow was careworn, and around his neck he wore a thrall collar; but for all that, and for the many years which had passed, Wulnoth knew him—his heart went out, and recognized, and he felt, with wonder and thankfulness, that Wyborga's words had come true, and that he had found his friend the Prince.
"Thou art welcome, friend," he said; "by what name art thou called?"
"By the name of Gurth," was the answer, and Wulnoth laughed—
"That may be, but there are some in the world who know you by another name and would call you, not Gurth the Thrall, but Guthred the Prince."
Then did Guthred stare, and pass his hands across his brow, and say—
"Who art thou, stranger, who callest me by a name now long forgotten—so long forgotten, indeed, that it has almost passed from my memory?"
"Who am I?" cried Wulnoth. "I am one who made a promise and has been all his life trying to keep it—and now has found the chance. Guthred, my brother and my Prince, have you forgotten Wulnoth?"
"Wulnoth!" cried the other, trembling with emotion. "Wulnoth! Thou Wulnoth! Nay, I can see now. I can see the same bold yet kindly eyes, the same strong form! Wulnoth, my friend, my friend, at last thou hast come to cheer me in my loneliness!"
And then did these two embrace, and, though they were men grown, they shed tears. And they sat down side by side, and allowed the two wounded thieves to slip off, for, as Wulnoth said, they owed them a kindness, since had they not attacked Guthred he would never have found him.
And Wulnoth told all his story of his journeyings, and of the death of Hubba and Hungwar, and of how Edgiva was with Alfred the King, and old Wyborga still lived, though she was feeble and old. And Guthred told him of his sorrows and trials, and how his master had died and left him to his widow, and the old woman was cross and crabbed, and fond of beating her servants, so that ofttimes Guthred had been tempted to run away and become a masterless man himself.
"Yet I tarried, Wulnoth," he said, "for ofttimes I have dreamt that you would come; and I have seen a gray and noble-looking old man, who has placed a crown upon my head and hailed me king of the north."
"Now, that is passing strange!" mused Wulnoth, "and I remember how that Wyborga said that thou shouldst become a king of a vaster kingdom than was Lethra. There is much to think of here, my friend—much that puzzles my comprehension and—"
But then a shrill voice broke upon their talk, and they saw a gaunt cross-looking old crone, clad in wealthy garments and being driven upon a mule through the wood.
"My mistress!" said Guthred in low tones, and Wulnoth thought of the neatherd's wife.
"There he is, the lazy rascal!" she cried. "Gossiping with a stranger instead of attending to his work. Thy back shall smart for this, sirrah, believe me, when thou art home."
"Now, nay, most beautiful lady," said Wulnoth; "the blame—if blame there be—is mine. Know that four knaves attacked thy servant, demanding that he give up thy property, which I see he carried at his girdle. And he defended himself in a most worthy way, though armed only with his stick, and I came to his aid and, as a reward, asked him to tell me of the whereabouts of Bishop Eadred."
"Beshrew Bishop Eadred—he makes men discontented and lazy with his talk of all being brethren. Still, he is a brave man, who keeps a bold front, let the danger be what it may. Now, as thou hast done me the service to preserve my slave and my money—like as not he would have run off with it and have joined the thieves himself—still, I say, since thou hast done this and hast, moreover, a civil tongue—a most uncommon thing amongst men in these days—therefore, my man shall be thy guide and shall lead thee to the Bishop's dwelling if it will do thee service."
"Your goodness is indeed great, most dear lady," replied Wulnoth, "and I will humbly avail myself of it, and kiss my hand to you." And with that he beckoned to Guthred, saying aloud, "Come, knave, and rejoice that thou hast so good a mistress and one so fair."
Guthred followed, dumb with surprise, for the woman was most ill-favored; but when Wulnoth had ridden on in silence for a space, and they were safely out of sight and hearing, he looked round at his companion and then fell to laughing so much that he nigh rolled from his horse.
"Thou dost look surprised, dear friend," he said. "I almost laughed aloud before that old beldam when I caught sight of thy face."
"How didst thou learn such subtlety, Wulnoth?" asked Guthred. "'T is not as thou usedst to be."
"Marry! I learnt it from a neatherd in the Southland," answered Wulnoth, "and a king told me of it. Moreover, Guthred, many things have come true, and I have indeed helped to place that king's crown firmly upon his head, and I am his friend. And I think the rest shall come true also, for I know of the thorn cross now, and I thank God that I do."
"I have heard," answered Guthred. And Wulnoth asked—
"And you believe it?"
"I know not. I have never thought seriously; and yet the story is a good one, and sometimes when I have been cast down it has comforted me. And so thou dost find the prophecy coming true, Wulnoth! Will it come true even to marrying a king's daughter?"
"Guthred," said Wulnoth gravely, "and if I said yes to that, would you say nay?"
"I! Who am I to say nay, Wulnoth? You mock me! I am a thrall, and forgotten. Nay, if it be that Edgiva, my sister, says yes, Guthred, her brother will not say nay."
"Yes she will say, when I tell her that this last quest is over. As to the thraldom and the crown, that is as it may be; but I have a thought."
"Tell me of this neatherd," said Guthred. And Wulnoth told him the story, and how the man had made his wife do as he desired, simply by doing as she bade him; whereat even the poor Prince laughed heartily.
Now when the pair reached the dwelling where Bishop Eadred tarried, Wulnoth directed the Prince to await him in an outer apartment, while he went to give the King's message; and Guthred asked why he need wait, seeing that his task was done now.
"You wait, friend," answered Wulnoth; and Guthred was content.
And the Bishop greeted Wulnoth warmly, and asked him all the tidings, and rejoiced to hear of his being a Christian, saying that he had heard of Guthrun's conversion from certain of the Danes.
And Wulnoth gave him the King's message, and Bishop Eadred looked grave and shook his head.
"Wulnoth," he said, "thinkest thou not that I have pondered this matter? And, strangely enough, thrice have I in my dreams placed the crown of Northumbria upon the head of an unknown man, and that man dressed in a churl's dress, and wearing a thrall's collar. Who is this man, and what does this dream mean?"
"Would you know the man if you saw him?" asked Wulnoth; and the Bishop said that he would.
"Then," answered Wulnoth, "go into the outer room and you will see him seated there and awaiting me."
Now, at this the Bishop was bewildered, but he complied; and when he saw Guthred, he cried out that it was the man of his dream; and Guthred said that the Bishop was the one whom he had seen; and both they and Wulnoth were filled with wonder, and marvelled at the ways of God.
And Wulnoth told Bishop Eadred who this man was, and all the story; and the Bishop talked long with Guthred, and Guthred confessed that he did believe in the Lord, though he had always been afraid to say so, because his mistress pretended to believe in the old Norse gods.
"Now," cried Bishop Eadred, "surely this is the guiding of Heaven. Go ye back, Wulnoth, to the King, and take Guthred with you and—nay, better still—let Guthred tarry here, and return to his mistress, while you go to the King. Tell him everything, and ask if it will not be well to set Guthred over the land of Northumbria."
"Gladly will I do this thing," cried Wulnoth; "and if ever my horse travelled, he must travel now."
So Guthred, saying nothing, went back to his toil, and Wulnoth started on his journey; and for two days and nights he journeyed, and then he came to the King's house, and Alfred greeted him in wonder and asked mildly why he had returned so quickly.
"I have returned, O King," he cried, "because methinks that the thing which thou desirest is done, and the man whom thou wouldst like to be king is found."
"Indeed!" said the King; "and who may the man be, Wulnoth?"
"The man whom I have journeyed far to find, O King," Wulnoth said. "I have found Guthred the Prince, the brother of Edgiva." And thereat the King looked amazed, and made Wulnoth sit and tell him all the story.
And when this was done, the King said that indeed Guthred was a fit man to be King of Northumbria.
"He is of the old stock," he said, "and in the direct line. Ay, let this be, if it may. Travel back yet once more—well may we call you 'Wanderer'—and when all is ready, if the people will listen to advice and do this thing, then I will journey down; and perchance Edgiva will be glad to see her brother, and a crowning may also mean a wedding"; and thereat the King smiled.
So Wulnoth hurried to see Edgiva, and to tell her the news, and how her brother fared, and what the King purposed; and then he once more set out on his journey, and without adventure came to Northumbria.
Now, this is how Wulnoth found Guthred the Prince, and how it was purposed to give a thrall the crown of Northumbria.
With haste and gladness did Wulnoth set out for the North once more, and all the world seemed filled with a love-song and a joy-song as he rode upon his way.
For the sun was shining at last for him, and for those whom he loved, and, better still, for all the land of England; and Alfred the King, who had labored so long and so patiently to weld the land into one strong people, would now have his reward also, in seeing the prosperity of his kingdom.
And Wulnoth reflected as he journeyed, for he was a man given to thinking when he was alone, that all this happiness had its fount in the truth concerning the Lord Jesus; and he remembered how Wyborga had said, in the long ago of his childhood, that the story of the thorn cross turned darkness to light, weakness to strength, and sorrow into joy; and lo, this was happening throughout the length and breadth of England.
And then he thought of the differences between the Danes and the Saxons; and yet these people were almost from the same stock and the same land, and both peoples had ever been lovers of the war game, and sea-lords and vikings at heart. And those differences all sprang from the same source—the Saxons had turned to the White Christ, and the Danes still worshipped the old cruel gods of the Northland.
Like the wind his good horse journeyed, and in good time he arrived at the Bishop's house, and told him of King Alfred's pleasure in the matter; and at that the Bishop smiled, and said that the way was a clear way now.
"But how will you make these people accept Guthred for their king?" asked Wulnoth. "If they be not willing, then it can only be done by the sword, and there is more war and desolation."
"God save us from that," said the Bishop. "Nay, friend, it is because the people are weary of war that I hope for success. They of Northumbria have long ago turned from their old gods, though in form they serve them still; and many have pondered about the Lord Christ, even as Guthred has done. Moreover, the tidings that Guthrun and they of the Danelagh have become Christians has not been without effect; and even the Danes are weary of the old, and are asking whether the new faith be not better.
"Now, the Danes will not accept one of Northumbria for leader, and the people of the land will not accept one of the Danes; so that there is like to be war again, which neither side really desires. But if Guthred, who is of the royal blood and ancient line, is put forward, he will satisfy the claims of both parties, and in him the two may unite into one. That is my hope. For, look you, these Danes know full well that presently other sea-lords will sweep down on the land—lords who know them not, and who may serve them as they have served others, and take from them that which they have won. They will therefore the more willingly unite with the Northumbrian people, and seek to present a strong front to any new foe who may come."
"Thy words may well be true words," answered Wulnoth; "and now that I have done my task, I go to speak with Guthred my friend."
"See you tell him nothing of this, good Wulnoth," said the Bishop in warning. "No word, that is, where others may hear it spoken. For a secret once whispered is as a message sounded by trumpet; and a woman's tongue is as the crier's voice, and spreads news even more swiftly. We must keep this business quiet, until we have the holdas and thanes upon our side."
"I will be most careful," answered Wulnoth; and with that he set out. But he went not to the house of Guthred's mistress, for he had no mind to listen to the tongue of a scolding jade, if it might be avoided. But he lurked in the woodlands; and so presently he saw Guthred come forth, and he hailed him, and together they went into the forest depths, and there did the Wanderer tell him of the King's wish, and the Bishop's work, and how the word of Wyborga would yet be found a true word, and Guthred would be king of a land vaster and more powerful than ever ancient Lethra had been.
And then did Bishop Eadred set himself to work, and he summoned by message all the holdas and thanes, and begged them to come to a council with himself, as he had weighty things to say to them.
And because he was a wise man, and learned, and just in his ways, the holdas and thanes came, even those who were at enmity; and for the time they proclaimed truce, and sat in the Bishop's house, and asked him whereof he had to speak.
And the Bishop stood and spoke of his dreams, and how he had met the man whom he had seen in his night visions; and how this man had also seen him in his visions; and the Bishop asked who but the blessed Saint Cuthbert, whose abbey of Lindisfarne was almost in ruins, should have been permitted by Heaven to put these dreams into their heads?
But the men of Northumbria cried that they would have no churl to be their king; but that one of the old royal House of Ella should be found; and the Danes laughed, and said that they cared not for the man's birth, so that he was a true man and one able to lead them.
But one aged holda rose and said—
"Suppose, instead of quarrelling, and drawing of swords, we see this man of whom the Bishop speaks. If we like him not, then can we say nay. It will be better than quarrelling as those who quarrel in the dark about they know not what."
"The man is by Heaven destined," the Bishop said. "Here is one who can tell you of him," and he pointed to Wulnoth.
So Wulnoth stood there, and he told them the story of Guthred, Prince of Lethra, and of the prophesying of Wyborga the Wise in the long ago, and of all that had happened since. And he showed how Guthred was of the royal blood of Lethra, and how Hardacnute himself was of the old race; and both Danes and Northumbrians cried aloud that if this was so, then Guthred the son of Hardacnute was he who should be their king.
"We will stand for him," they cried, "and we will war against all in the land who seek to reject him."
"Little need for war," said the Bishop. "Know, thanes and holdas, that now all England is united beneath the rule of Alfred the Bretwalda. Guthrun is now his liegeman, and Guthred will also call Alfred overlord. Thus all the land from the Picts' wall in the north, to the sea in the south, will be one land, and its peoples as one people; and the strong will stand for the weak, and each call his neighbor brother. And this is the law of the Lord Christ, who is Alfred's Lord, and Guthrun's Lord, and shall be Guthred's Lord also."
Then did all the warriors and leaders cry that the thing was good, and they demanded to be led to the place where Guthred was; and Wulnoth could not help smiling as he thought of what the old woman would say when all the land came to take her thrall and crown him king.
So to the house he led them, the great, grim viking lords and the best of the thanes; and behind them came many of their warriors, and they shouted with a mighty voice, and cried—
"Skoal! Skoal to thee, Guthred the Prince, who shalt be Guthred the King! Come forth to us, that we may see him who shall wear the crown and the royal bracelets."
And then did the old woman come running out, and she cried out, and bade them begone for a set of drunken rascals.
"Must you come with your folly to an honest woman's house, shouting for your king? Guthred! I have no Guthred here, and that you wot right well; but if ye want a king, go round to the sty and get one there, or to the field wherein my ass feeds, and he will make ye a good ruler. Away with ye, rascals and worthless that ye are, or I will beat you with my besom stick."
Then did the vikings laugh again, and still they cried for Guthred to come forth; and at that did Guthred come, and Wulnoth cried so that all might hear—
"The man is here, holdas and thanes. This is my friend and my brother—this is Guthred, who is son of him who was King of Lethra."
"Skoal! Skoal to thee, Guthred son of Hardacnute!" they cried; and they seized him and lifted him onto their shoulders.
But then, with a yell and a cry of anger, the old woman threw herself amongst them, and she scratched and kicked, and grabbed hold of Guthred's leg, seeking to pull him away.
"Hola! help, there—help there, neighbors!" she cried. "Here be nameless and masterless men, and they be carrying off my thrall! Help, there."
"Silence, woman!" sternly said the Bishop. "Darest thou call these nobles by such shameful names as nameless and masterless? Silence, or thou shalt be ducked in the pond. As for this man, know that he is thy king; and ask his pardon if thou hast cause to fear his anger, for thy life is in his hand, from now, henceforth."
"What!" shrieked the old woman. "What is that? Gurth is not Gurth, but Guthred; and he is not my thrall, but the King! Oh, and I have had him whipped! Oh, and I have had him shut up! And now he will have me killed. Oh! mercy, good Gurth—I mean, good Guthred—no, I mean good King! Oh, mercy!"
But Guthred laughed, and it was the good laugh of the long ago; and he held out his hand, and lifted the woman up, saying to her—
"Have no fear, mistress. If I was whipped, doubtless I deserved it."
"You did, every bit and more!" cried the woman, anxious to justify herself. But then she remembered that she was speaking to the King, and she stammered—"No—I mean that you didn't deserve it. No, that won't do! If I say that you deserved it, that is wrong to say of the King, and if I say that you didn't deserve it, that is contradicting you, and that is wrong, so what is a poor body to do?"
"Say nothing about it," answered Guthred. But at that Wulnoth laughed.
"Come, come, Prince, do not set her so hard a task—her tongue is too long, and it wags so freely that she must talk." And at that the woman glared at her tormentor, and seemed inclined to show him that her nails were long also.
But Guthred said that he was this woman's thrall, and that if they wanted him for King they must purchase him from her, and he decreed that if he was worth crowning he was worth his weight in gold, and at that all the holdas laughed. And they set up a beam and weighed golden bracelets against him; and that was the price they paid for Guthred to make him their king.
And then did they take him away and strip from him his humble robes and array him in the garments of a great holda, as was his by right, and they gave him homage.
And then, messages having been sent south, Alfred the King set forth for the Northland, and with him came his Queen and Edgiva the Beautiful, and in a litter old Wyborga, who said that now her task was over and her word had come to pass, and therefore she would see Guthred crowned, and one more thing accomplished, ere she closed her eyes in death.
And with a great retinue into Northumbria came Alfred; and Guthred, and the thanes, and the holdas awaited his coming, and all cried "Skoal" to him; and Guthred came and knelt and kissed his hand, and did him homage as his overlord and Bretwalda.
And Alfred raised Guthred and embraced him, and called him his brother, and greeted thanes and holdas as his friends, and there was rejoicing in all the land.
But who shall speak of the meeting of Guthred with Edgiva his beautiful sister, after so many years of absence? Ah, it was good for the Prince to look upon her beauty and to hear her voice, and hard was it for him to remember that all the ills had passed away, and that he was as a king now and would soon be crowned.
And to old Wyborga did he go and kneel and ask her blessing. And Wyborga laid her hand upon his head and blessed him, and also Wulnoth and Edgiva; and she said gladly—
"Now the end is near, and I also am going to my crowning, and you, my children, have to tarry until it is the Lord's will to call you. My words have come true, and you three are united, now that you know the meaning of the thorn-crowned cross. Yea, and you, Wulnoth, you mighty man, have helped to plant it firmly in this land when it was in danger of being uprooted; and you have aided two kings to be crowned. Hard has been your fight, Wulnoth, and like a hero have you conquered; and ere I die your reward shall be sure."
And then did Wulnoth ask Wyborga of a thing which had long worried him.
"Where is he, good mother, with whom I wrestled so often?" he said, "and what is the meaning of his riddle?"
"Thou hast slain him at last, Wulnoth," she answered softly, "or I should say that thy dear Lord has slain him for thee. For indeed he was thyself—thy evil spirit, Wulnoth. The Wulnoth who desired the things of earth, and the pride of life, and the lust of the flesh. Wulnoth, though all may not know it, each one who serves the Lord must so fight with himself, and if he fights beneath the cross, he wins, but if he fights in his own strength he is vanquished; and if self is not conquered, then it is master forever, and leads the better will and desire in thraldom."
So did Wyborga say, and long did Wulnoth ponder, for the thing was as a strange, strange thing to him; yet he could see that always this being had sought to lead him from the way of duty into the way of desire, and he rejoiced that he had striven and overcome, as he had done.
Now, after this did the holdas and thanes, and all the people, come and take Guthred, and lead him away to the sacred stone—at least, now that they were departing from the old gods they looked upon it as sacred no longer—but because always their kings had been proclaimed there, they took Guthred also; and the stone is on a hill named Oswin's Dune.
And then they placed upon his arms the royal bracelets, and upon his head the golden circlet, and hailed him as King of Northumbria and overlord of every thane and holda there. And Guthred took off his crown and laid it before Alfred, and Alfred placed it again upon his head; and the two kings sat side by side and drank heal to each other, and Wulnoth stood beside his friend and brother Guthred, and Edgiva sat at his side.
Then from thence did Guthred go to Lindisfarne Abbey, and there was he baptized by the Bishop, and there did he profess his Lord, and vow to rebuild the Abbey and set it in order. And he gave broad lands to the Bishop to be held for the Church; and from that gift made by Guthred the King it comes that right down to this very day, the Bishop of Durham may, if he chooses, don his scarlet robes and seat himself beside the judges whenever they come to try criminals within what is called his palatinate—that is, the boundaries of those lands which were given to Bishop Eadred, in the days of his crowning by Guthred.
And this is how the people of Northumbria chose Guthred for their king, and the words spoken of old by Wyborga came true in the end.
Now, on the evening of that day whereon Guthred was crowned at Oswin's Dune, Wulnoth stood alone in the gathering shadows, pondering on all that had taken place, and it was as peace time in his heart.
He was happy, very happy, and first of all because now he knew the happiness which comes from the story of the thorn-wreathed cross; and then because he saw his friend and brother, Guthred, now no longer a poor thrall, but a king, and the friend of Alfred the Bretwalda. That was a good thing in the eyes of Wulnoth, and right glad was he that he had fulfilled his word and had never turned aside from seeking for Guthred.
And he was happy because his Princess was happy in her brother's joy. It had been good for him to watch her face and see the light play upon it, as the sunlight plays upon the meadows and the lakes when, in the morning, it first rises above the hills and peeps down into the sleepy valleys at their feet.
And yet there was another cause for joy, and it was a deep, deep cause, as a deep well wherein is cool clear water, and around which cluster the nodding ferns. For now he thought that his tasks were over, and he might truly whisper his love-song into the ears of Edgiva, knowing that though she was a king's daughter, and the sister of a king, she would listen to his tale more gladly than she would heed the words of the greatest and mightiest in the land.
So he stood thinking his own thoughts, and the shadows grew and the moon rose, and then an owl hooted in the woods, and his mind went back to the days when, with brave Wahrmund, he had stood in the woods of East Anglia and had heard the sign which first called Alfred to his side.
But after the owl, there came the sound of another song—the song of a tiny night-singer telling his love tale to his little mate, and the song flowed like a stream of melody, like the purling of the brooklet in the moonlight, like the voice of the wavelets on the shelly sands, like the whispering of the night wind to the bending trees.
It got into the heart of Wulnoth, and he stood listening, a smile on his face, and he thought how much better this was than the song of the sword or the hiss of the flames as they burst through the roof, and he said softly—
"Sing, sing, little bird—sing to thy shy mate whom thou lovest; but though I may not sing as sweetly, thy song is no gladder than is mine when I think of my Princess. O night-singer, would that I could learn thy song and so sing to my love—to my Edgiva!"
Then a little voice spoke in his ear, and a little hand stole around his neck, and the voice said softly—
"But, perchance, thy Edgiva might better love to hear thy words in thine own voice than in the sweetest tones of the night-singer, Wulnoth."
And he turned and beheld his Princess, and he took her in his arms, and she made no struggle, but yielded gladly as a tired bird nestles in its nest; and she turned her face towards his own and called him Wulnoth, and love, and hero, and true one; and it was happy peace time for them both.
"All the world seems beautiful, dear love," he said to her. "It is like the land of the fairies to my eyes, such is the happiness that comes from love that has found its answer and its mate."
"Dearest," she said, "perchance also it is because of a greater happiness which comes to us from Him Whom we serve. We have found the meaning of Wyborga's sign now, sweetheart, though it seemed so strange to us when we were children away there in Lethra."
And so they two stood, and their hearts were too full for speech, yet in their very silence they seemed to talk and tell each other of their love, which had grown and grown all through the long years of their waiting.
And while they stood thus, from the shadows came the sound of a harp and the voice of a singer, and thus the unseen sang—