Wulfric the Weapon Thane: A Story of the Danish Conquest of East Anglia by Whistler (general ebook reader TXT) 📕

"I think they scour the country for our bishop. We have little time."

"Tell me, Leof," I said, "have you a mind to live?" for there was somewhat in the man's weary voice that seemed to say that he and I thought alike.

"None, master, after today's work, if I may find a brave man or two to die with me."

"Here is a brave man waiting with a like thought in the church. Shall you and I die with him?"

"Aye, surely," said Leof quietly.

"Bide here then," I said, and took the horses from him.

I mounted mine and rode to the house, where the steward and one or two others watched from the gateway. I bade the old man call his folk together, and I told them to fly. Many were already gone, now others went at once.

But a few stayed, and to them I said like words as to Leof.

"Hither will the Danes come presently, but in no great force. We may beat them back, and if we do, then maybe the bishop will fly. But we shall more likely die with him."

"Let us stand by him, come what will," they answered me in steady voices; "better to die with him and our king."

They took their arms and gave me a sword, and we left the horses in the stable, for we might even yet need them. I thought that we could maybe, as I said, beat off the first few Danes, and then that, to save further bloodshed, the bishop would go with us. And if not, we had done our best.

Five men came with me to the ford. When we were at the other side there were but four. One had gone back, and I did not blame him. Leof sat in the little porch, and so we six went into the church together. The bishop sat where I had left him, but he raised his head when we came up the aisle.

"Nay, my sons," he said, "you must fly. Maybe these men will respect an old man like myself and lonely."

Then I said:

"Father, we would have you say mass for us ere the light comes again."

Now it wanted about an hour to midnight.

"Is there yet time?" he said.

Then I answered that I thought we might wait in peace for so long, and he, knowing nothing of the nearness of the Danes, consented. So we bided there in the aisle benches to wait till midnight was past, and soon one or two of the men slept quietly.

Now, when it may have been almost midnight, and the time for mass would soon be come, the bishop, who had been so still that I thought he slept, lifted his head and looked towards the altar. And at the same time my dog whined a little beside me.

Then Humbert the Bishop rose up and held out both his hands as to one whom he would greet, and spoke softly.

"Aye, Eadmund, I am coming. Soon shall I be with you."

So he stood for a little while very still, and then went to his place again.

Then Leof, who sat next to me, said, whispering:

"Saw you aught, master?"

"I saw nothing, but surely the bishop had a vision."

"I myself saw Eadmund the king stand before the bishop, and he had a wondrous crown on his head," said Leof, speaking as though of somewhat not terrible, but good to think on.

"I also saw him," said the old steward from behind me. "I saw him plainly as in life, and I thought he smiled on us."

But I had had no such sight, and it grieved me. Moreover, two of the other three men whispered, and I thought one of them told of the like vision. And I think, too, that the dog saw it, as the innocent beasts will see things beyond our ken.

Soon the bishop judged that the time was come for mass, and he called softly to me, bidding me serve, for I had often done so for him in the old days when I was a boy and he was at Reedham, and I knew well what to do.

Then was said a most solemn mass with that one aged priest, and us few men present. And all was very quiet round us, for no wind stirred the trees on the old rampart.

The bishop's voice ceased with the benediction, and the hush deepened; but suddenly Leof and I looked in each other's faces. We had heard a shout from no great distance, and the blood rushed wildly through us.

Now the bishop rose from his knees, and I took the holy vessels, as he gave them to me, putting them into their oaken chest in its niche. And when that was done, he said:

"Now I will not bid you fly, my sons, for I think that somewhat has bidden you bide with me. And I have seen the king, so that I know the time is short. Take therefore the holy vessels and drown them in the deep pool of the stream. I have used them for the last time, but I would not have them profaned by the heathen in their feasting."

I knew that this should be done as at Bosham, but already I heard the shouts yet nearer, and I was loth to leave the church, and so paused.

"I know your thoughts," said the bishop. "Yet go, as I bid you; it is not far."

So I took the heavy, iron-bound chest on my shoulder and went quickly, running as well as I might to the stream below the rampart, where it curled deep and still under crumbling banks. There I plunged my burden, hearing it sink and bubble into the depths.

Then I went back, and reached the gap in the rampart that had been the gate next the ford, and that was at the east end of the church, so that the porch was far from me. And before I had gone halfway to the church--over the western rampart spurred a score of horsemen, dimly seen in the half moonlight that was now. And the leader of them saw me, and rode straight at me, calling to me to hold, while I drew my sword and ran to reach the door before he met me; and my dog, which was at my heels, flew at the horse's throat.

But I must fail, and I whirled up my sword to strike--and then a long flash of light from a spear point smote me, and over me the man rode, pinning me to the ground with the spear through my left shoulder. His horse trod on me, and the man wrenched the weapon from me as he passed on, and I had but time to call out to Leof to warn him, when a rushing came in my ears, and a blaze of light before my eyes, and the world passed from me.

Then I seemed to stand in darkness, while past me, gloriously shining, went Leof, and then the old steward and one of those two men who had whispered together, and then Humbert the Bishop himself. But it seemed to me that he paused and looked on me, saying, in a voice that was like music:

"Hereafter--not now. Twice have you offered your life today, and yet there is work for you. Be content to wait."

So he passed, looking kindly at me, and then the blackness came over me again.

When I came round at last it was high day, and the air was full of smoke around me. One sat on a great brown horse looking at me, and by my side cried my dog; and I groaned, whereat the man got off his horse and came to me. And I knew that it was Hubba, and some of the men I knew were there also.

"Why, Wulfric, friend, how is this? I thought you were dead. Who has dared to hurt you? What has happened here?"

"You know well," I gasped.

"Nay, I know not; I have but now ridden this way with our rear guard," he answered, seeming to pity me.

"Look in the church and see," I said, groaning. "You Danes are all one in the matter."

"Now I am not the man to harm you, nor would any of our folk," he said. "Some of our courtmen found you here, and brought me."

"Slay me and have done," I muttered; for that was all I would have him do.

"That will I not, Wulfric," he answered; and he called to some men who were busy about the walls of the church.

The smoke rose thickly from within them, for the burnt roof had fallen in.

"Take this warrior and bind his wound," he said. "It is Wulfric of Reedham, our friend."

The faintness came over me again when the men raised me, though they tended me gently enough, and I could say naught, though I would rather they had cast me into the burning timbers of the church, even as I had bidden men do with that poor churl at Hoxne, that my ashes might be with those of our bishop.

So they bore me far, and at last left me in a farm where they promised all should be safe if they tended me well. And Hubba rode with them, and came to bid me farewell. But I could not speak to him if I would, so he went away sadly. And as in a dream I heard him speak of care for me to the widow and her two sons to whom the farm belonged, and whom his men had taken unawares, so that they had not time to fly.

Presently came the best leech from Ingvar's host and tended me carefully; and I needed it, for besides the spear wound, my right thigh was broken, by the trampling of the horse, as was most likely.

Thereafter I lay for many weeks, as they told me presently, sick and nigh to death; but being young and strong and no high liver at any time, I came through the danger well enough, and began to mend slowly. Yet my sickness, when I could begin to think, was more of mind than body, and that kept me back. For long did it lie heavily on my mind that I should have died with the king, and it was that sorrow and blame of myself that went sorely against me. But after a time the love of life came back to me again, and I began to see things as they really were, untouched by a sick man's fancies. And then the words of the good Prior of Bosham helped me, teaching me that my life was surely spared for somewhat.

These good folk of the farm tended me most kindly, for they knew me by sight as a close friend of both king and bishop, and for their sakes were glad to do all they might for me. But I pined for the touch of that one who had tended me when I was wounded before, Osritha, whom I had learnt to love as she did so.

Sometimes I would think that between her and me had now risen up a barrier stronger than the sea that was washing our shores alike, because that of Ingvar's sister I might not think aught any longer. And then I would set before me how that of these cruel doings nor she nor Halfden had any part, hating them rather, and so would comfort myself. Long are the thoughts that come to a sick man.

Now it was not till February that I might take much heed of anything, but then I learnt that the Danes had wintered in Thetford, and that the land was in peace. The war had passed on to the Wessex borders and then had slackened, as winter came earnest, and now the north and south folk, Dane and Angle, were foes no longer openly. But Ingvar and Hubba were at Nottingham, waiting to fall on Wessex, leaving only strong garrisons in our towns.

Then one of the dame's sons would go to London for me, there to seek Ingild and tell him of my hap, for, the lad said:

"Now that these Danes need fight no more they are decent folk enough, and will not hinder a man who has not whereof to be robbed."

CHAPTER XIV. HOW WULFRIC AND RAUD SEARCHED TOGETHER.

I sat in the warm sun under the wide spread of the farmhouse eaves, dreaming my dreams with the dog at my feet, for so soon as the May time came in I must needs get into the open air, and grow stronger daily.

So it came to pass that one day up the green farm lane came a stranger, at whom the dog barked not, as was his wont, but ran to meet as if he were some well-loved friend. And it was