King Olaf's Kinsman<br />A Story of the Last Saxon Struggle against the Danes in the Days of Ironsid by Charles W. Whistler (top 10 non fiction books of all time txt) 📕

I sat up, and the maze passed from me. I had but been stunned by the fall from my horse, and now seemed little the worse, save for sickness and dull weight of weariness. I had been an hour or two thus, as it would seem, for now the Danish host was gone, and only a few men sought for friends on that hillside, as Thrand had sought for me. My horse was dead, slain by the spear thrust that made him rear. It was that one which Earl Wulfnoth gave me when I left him.

"I shall be myself again directly," I said. "How has it all ended? I thought I saw you slain."

"The Danes are chasing our men towards yon village," he said grimly pointing towards Hockley. "They will not catch the king, however. They smote me badly enough when I tried to be revenged on Streone, and they slew Guthorm; but they only stunned me."

"Go hence before Streone catches you," said I.

"Not I," said Thrand. "He knows me not, and I shall wait for another chance. The Danes think me a Mercian, and so I bide with you. Can you fly now, master?"

I tried to rise, but I was weak and shaken, and sank down again. I was not fit for walking even yet.

"I must wait," I said.

"There are stray horses enough down yonder," Thrand said, looking over the meadows below us. "I will go and catch one. We must go soon, or the Danes will be back."

"No use," said I. "They are between us and safety. I must wait and take my chance."

With that I missed the sword that I loved, for I had thought of selling my life dearly if the Danes would slay me.

"Where is sword Foe's Bane?" I cried.

Thrand looked round about me, but could see it not. Then he turned over one or two of the slain men who lay thickly in the place where our last stand was made. But he could not find it, until a wounded man of ours asked what he sought. Thrand told him. Then I noted how few wounded there were. The sun, nigh to setting now, broke out and shone athwart the hillside; and it sparkled like the ice heaps on the long banks that a winter's tide has left by the river, for everywhere were the mail-clad slain. But the sparkles were steady, as on the ice, not as on a host that is marching. Ice cold were those who would need mail no more on Ashingdon hill.

"The sword is under the horse," the man said groaning. And it was so, and unhurt.

"Get me a sword from off the field," I said, "and hide Foe's Bane somewhere. Then, if they slay me, take it to Egil, Jarl Thorkel's foster brother; and if not, I can find it again. I will not have it taken from me thus."

So Thrand took it and its scabbard and hid both under his cloak, and went to where there was a patch of woodland at the foot of the hill--ash and alder growing by the marsh side--some two hundred yards off.

I closed my eyes and waited till he came back--and he was gone for some while. Presently he came, and told me that he had hidden it under a fallen tree trunk, and that the place was dry and safe. He found me another sword easily enough--and it was notched from point to hilt. Its edge was not like that of Foe's Bane, but the man whose it had been had done his duty with it. It was an English sword.

Now I thought that I could walk again, and stood up and made a step or two, painfully enough, in truth, but in such wise that I should soon do better. And then over the brow of the hill the Danes began to come. They had circled round and I had not noted them, and came on us from the other side. They were searching among the slain for their comrades.

Half a dozen of them came towards Thrand and me, and I suppose that they would have slain me. But my man was ready for them, and took the sword from me quickly.

"Will the king suffer us to keep captives?" he said.

"Aye," one answered, in some Jutland speech that was new to me, though one could understand it well enough, "there is word that we are to take any chiefs alive--but that is a new word to us. Who minds it?"

"I do," said Thrand. "Here is one who will pay for freedom, and he has yielded to me."

"That is luck for you," they said, and passed on.

There was plunder enough all around, and they were in haste lest others should come. Thrand's Anglian speech was Danish enough for them.

"Now you are safe, master," Thrand said; "no need for the sword."

"I am a captive," said I bitterly.

Then my eyes sought the ground as Thrand cast the useless blade away, and there, crawling on the reddened turf, was a toad that feared not the still dead, and must seek its food whether men lived or died, unheeding aught but that. And when I saw it, into my mind flashed the time when I had stood, weakened and hurt, and looked at the like in Penhurst village--and the words that Spray the smith spoke came to me, and they cheered me, as a little thing will sometimes. And then I thought of her who prayed for me among Penhurst woods, and I was glad that life was left me yet.

More Danes kept coming now, and presently one who was in some command came to where I sat with Thrand standing over me.

"Is this a captive?" he asked.

"Aye," said Thrand.

"Who is he?"

"Some thane or other. What shall I do with him?"

"Cnut wants to see all captives. Take him to the fort whence we came."

He passed on, and Thrand said:

"Master, if you can find Egil all may be well, Let us go."

That was all that I could do. Egil or Godwine might befriend me. Godwine surely would, but I knew not if his word would go for anything.

Aye, but that was an awesome walk across the upland, where the flower of England lay dead. I knew not what had befallen us fully until I went slowly over Ashingdon hill. All the best blood of England was spilt there; and I knew, as we passed the wide ring of heaped corpses where our stand had been longest, that the hopes of Eadmund had come to nought, and that the shadow of Streone lay black across his life.

We came to the further slope of the hill, and were going down, and through the tears of rage and grief that filled my eyes I saw a few horsemen breasting the slope towards us, and one of them was Edric Streone the traitor himself; and when I saw him I felt as a man who lights suddenly on a viper, and I shuddered, for the sight of him was loathsome to me, and Thrand ground his teeth.

Streone's eyes fell on us, and he turned his horse to meet us. And when he knew who I was he glowered at me without speaking, and I looked him full in the face once, and then turned my back on him. He did not know my man.

"Bind your prisoner," he said sharply to Thrand.

"No need to do that," said Thrand coolly, "he is sorely hurt, and has no arms."

Then the other horsemen rode up leisurely.

"Who is this?" said one--and he was Jarl Eirik.

"No one worth having," said Streone, and reined round his horse to go on as if caring nought.

They went on up the hill. I suppose that they were going there that Edric Streone might say who the slain were. As for us we went our way, and Thrand cursed the earl with every step.

We had hardly got away from the hill when men came after us in haste, and before I knew that it was myself whom they sought, they had pushed Thrand aside and bound my hands.

"What is this?" Thrand asked angrily.

And I said:

"Bind me not. I go to yield myself."

"Earl Edric's orders," said the men. "We are to keep you here till he comes."

At that I knew that I had fallen into his hands, and that my life was not worth much. I could see that Thrand knew this also.

"That is all very well," I said; "but I am Egil Thorarinsson's captive."

Whereat one of the men laughed.

"You may not choose your captor, man. Egil has not been ashore all day. He is with the ships yonder."

Then Thrand said, seeming very wroth:

"I will not lose a good captive and ransom for any Mercian turncoat. I will go and find the king and make complaint."

"Tell him that you are Egil at the same time," a Dane sneered. "You will not hoodwink him as you have this Saxon."

"Is not this man Egil?" I asked, looking at Thrand with a hope that he would guess whom I needed.

"He Egil!" they answered, laughing loudly. And at that Thrand turned and went away quickly, and I sat down and said:

"What will Earl Edric do with me?"

One said one thing and one another, and I did not listen much. But they all thought in the end that Edric's lust for gold would make him hold me to heavy ransom. I thought that he loved revenge even better than wealth, and this cheered me not at all.

About sunset Edric Streone came. Thrand had, I thought, made his escape, most likely, and I was glad. He had helped me all he could.

The earl left the party he was with, and came to me and my guards. He looked at me sidewise for a while, and then spoke to me in broad Wessex, which the Danes could hardly understand, if at all.

"So, Master Redwald, what will you give for freedom?"

I answered him back in my own Anglian speech, which any Dane knows, for it is but the Danish tongue with a difference of turn of voice, and words here and there:

"I will give a traitor nothing."

"But I am going to hang you," and he chuckled in his evil way. There were many meanings in that laugh of Streone's.

"You can do as you like with me, as it happens," I answered, "but I had rather swing at a rope's end as an honest man than sit at Cnut's table as Streone the traitor."

He tried to laugh, but it stuck in his throat, and so he turned to rage instead.

"Smite him," he said to the Danes.

"Not we," said the spokesman of the half dozen. "Settle your own affairs between you."

"Take him to yon tree and hang him, and have done," said Edric.

"Spear me rather," said I in a low voice to the men.

They laughed uneasily, but did not move, and Edric again bade them take me to the tree, which was about a hundred paces away.

They took me there and set me under a great bough, and then stood looking at me and the earl. They had no rope, and the belts that bound me were of no use for a halter. Edric saw what was needed, and swore. Then he sent one of the men to the ships to get a line of some sort; and I think that his utter hatred of anyone who had seen through his plans made him spare me from spear or sword, for there is no disgrace in death by steel. But at this time there seemed no disgrace in the death he meant me to die, for it was shame to him, not to me.

The ships were not so far off. It was not long before three or four men came through the gathering dusk, and one had a coil of rope over his shoulder. And after them came across the hillside a horseman, beside whom ran a man on foot. There were many men about, and these were too far for me to heed them. I only noticed that which should end my life.

"Set to work quickly," said Streone.

So they flung the end of the line over the bough, sailorwise, and made a running bowline in the part that came down. There is torture in that way, and some of the men grumbled thereat, being less hard hearted. So they began to argue about the matter, and Streone watched my face, for this was pleasure to him, as it seemed, though he did not look straight at me. I wished they would hasten, that was all.

Now the horseman and his follower came up, and lo! Egil was the rider, and with him was Thrand.

"Ho!" cried Egil, "hold hard. That is my man."

Streone turned on him with a snarl.

"Your man!" he