King Alfred's Viking - Charles W. Whistler (ebook reader browser .txt) 📗

himself," Osmund said when we stopped and the thunder let him speak.

"Ay, and have driven him hellwards by the might of the holy sign," said Harek. "Nearly had he lured us to death, unbaptized as we are, in that place."

"Come," said Osmund; "I know where we are now. We are well-nigh under the great fort, and there is a farm near at hand."

We found that soon and the rain came, and the storm spent its fury and passed as we sat under cover in the stables waiting. Then came the moonlight and calm, and the sweetness of rain-soaked earth and flowers refreshed, and we went on our way wondering, and came to the thane's with the first daylight. And I thought that our faces were pale and marked with the terror of the things through which we had gone, and maybe also with a new light of victory {xvii}.


Chapter XIV. King Alfred's Will.

When we came back to Aller, the first thing that I did was to tell Neot of our meeting with Odin while his wild hunt went on through the tempest, telling him how that I had feared unwisely, and also of Harek's brave withstanding of the danger.

"It is said that our forefathers met Odin in like wise in the days of the first christening of our race," he said. "I do not know what to make thereof, seeing that I hold Odin as nought; but I think this, that in some way Satan tried to destroy you before you were baptized. Wherefore, whether Odin or mortal man drew you to that place, I have no doubt what power saved you."

But Sigehelm thought that we had met with Satan himself in the shape of the old god, and so also thought Guerir the hermit, who told strange tales of like appearings among the Welsh hills where he was born.

As for Alfred the king, he marvelled, and said even as Neot. But he added this:

"I know the mine shaft well, and it is in my mind that some day Odin's bones will be found at the bottom thereof. Nevertheless there is more than mortal in what has happened to you by way of trial."

Now came the time when Guthrum and his thirty comrades should seek the king, and I have no words to tell of that time when in the peaceful church we heathen stood white-robed and unarmed altogether at the font, while Sigehelm, with a wonderful gathering of priests, enlisted us as warriors of the Cross. It was, as all men think, the most mighty victory that Alfred had ever gained.

At that time he chose Guthrum as his own son in the faith, and named him Athelstan {xviii}, as the first and most noble stone of the new building up of the church among the Danes. Neot would not have our names changed, for he said we had wronged the faith in them not at all. Odda stood for Osmund, as Neot for us.

After that was joyous feasting, and the loosing of the chrism bands at Alfred's royal town of Wedmore, whither we went in bright procession through the long summer day. Four days we bided there, till we knew that the great Danish host was on its march homewards, and then Guthrum and his comrades must join it. But before he went he accepted from Alfred the gifts that an under-king should take from his overlord, and they were most splendid. All men knew by those tokens given and taken that Alfred was king indeed, and that Guthrum did but hold place by his sufferance. Those two parted in wondrous friendship with the new bond of the faith woven round them, and the host passed from Wessex and was gone.

Yet, as ever, many a long year must pass by before the track of the Danes should be blotted out from the fair land they had laid waste. Everywhere was work to hand on burnt hall and homestead, ruined church, and wasted monastery. There was nought that men grieved over more than the burning of King Ine's church at Glastonbury, for that had been the pride of all the land. Once, after the Chippenham flight, the monks had dared to go out in sad procession to meet the fierce raiders at the long dike that bars the way to Avalon, and for that time they had won safety for the place--maybe by the loss of their treasures given as ransom, or, as some say, by the power of fearless and unarmed men; for there were men in the Danish host whose minds were noble, and might well be touched thereby. But Hubba's men could not be withheld after they had lost their mighty leader, and the place must feel their fury of revenge.

Now after the host was gone we went back to Taunton, and there Alfred called together his Witan, that he might set all things in order with their help; and at that time, before the levies were dismissed, he bade me seek out such men as would take to the ships as his paid seamen. Therein I had no hard task, for from the ruined coast towns came seafarers, homeless and lonely, asking nought better than to find a place in the king's fleet, and first of all were the Parret-mouth men and my fisher of Wareham. Presently, with one consent, the Witan made me leader of the king's Wessex sea levies, offering me the rank and fee of an English ealdorman, with power to demand help in the king's name from all sea-coast sheriffs and port reeves in whatever was needed for the ships, being answerable to the throne only for what I should do. And that I accepted willingly for love of Alfred, who was my friend, and for the sake of comradeship with those valiant men who had fought beside me when Hubba fell, and at Edington.

Then must I set myself to my new charge, having nought to do with all the inland work that was before the king; and when the next day's business was over, I went to tell him of this wish of mine, and of some other matters that were on my mind whereof one may easily guess.

Alfred sat in his private chamber in the great house that King Ine built, and on the table before him were a great ink horn and other writing gear, and beside him sat on a low stool his chaplain, reading to him out of a great book while the king wrote. The rough horn cage wherein was a candle, that he had planned in wind-swept Athelney, stood close at hand, against the time of dusk that was near. Ever was Alfred planning things like this, even in his greatest troubles; and therein he was wise, for it is not good to keep the mind full of heavy things alone. Moreover, as we wondered at his skilful devices in these little things, we took heart from his cheerful pleasure in them.

When the chamberlain brought me in, the great book was put aside, and the pen set down, and the king looked up at me with his bright smile.

"Welcome, my ship thane," he said. "Come and sit here beside me. I have somewhat to read to you."

So I sat down wondering, and he turned back to some place in his writing, and took the little knife that lay by him--for he had lost his jewelled book staff in Athelney--and running its point along the words, read to me from the writings of some old Roman what he had been busy putting into good Saxon:

"Now when the Roman folk would make a fleet hastily, and had no rowers, nor time to train them rightly, they built stages like to the oar benches of a ship in a certain lake, and so taught the men the swing and catch of the long oars."

"Will not that plan serve us, Ranald?" he said.

"Ay, lord," I answered, laughing. "In good truth, if a man can learn to keep time, and swing rightly, and back water, and the like, on such a staging, it is somewhat. But it will be hard work pulling against dead water from a stage that moves not. Nor will there be the roll and plunge of waves that must be met."

"Nor the sore sickness whereof Odda speaks," Alfred said, with his eyes twinkling. "But I think that if the Romans found the plan good, it will be so for us."

So we talked of this for a while, and I will say now that in after days we tried it, and the plan worked well enough, at least in the saving of time. Alfred's book learning was ever used for the good of his people, and this was but one way in which he found ready counsel for them.

This was pleasant talk enough, and neither I nor the king grew weary thereof, but the good monk slept at last, and presently the darkness fell, and Alfred dismissed him.

One came and lit the torches on the wall, and still we spoke of my work, until at last Alfred said:

"So you must be busy, and I am glad. When will you set out, and where will you go first?"

Now what I wanted to ask him was where Osmund the jarl had gone. He had ridden to Taunton from Aller, that he might be present at Thora's christening, and that their chrism loosing {xix} might be held at the same time; and I had looked to find both here, but they were gone. Nor had they left any word for me, and I was troubled about that. So I was about to tell the king what was in my mind concerning Thora first of all, and my heart began to beat strangely. But he waited not for me to answer him.

"Stay," he said, smiling a little. "Before you go I must have a hostage from my wild viking, lest he be, as it were, let loose on the high seas where I cannot reach him."

Then he laughed, at my puzzled face, I suppose, and I saw that he had some jest that pleased him.

"What hostage can I give, lord king?" I said. "Shall I leave Harek and his harp with you?"

"Harek would charm our ears, and would escape," Alfred answered. "Nay, but I must give you house and lands for a home, and therein you shall leave a fair wife, whose loneliness will bring you ashore now and then."

I thought there was more to come, and I liked not this at all, for it went too closely with my fears of what might be. So I bowed, and answered nothing as yet, while he looked laughingly at me.

"Why," he cried, "half my thanes would have gone wild with joy if I had promised them either half of what I have said I would give to you. Are you so fond of the longships and the restless waves that you will not be bound to the shore?"

"Nay, my king," I said; "but I cannot yet rightly understand all that you mean for me."

"Well, it means that I must find you a rich wife, as I think I can. What say you to that fair lady of Exeter town and Taunton--Odda's daughter, Etheldreda?"

"My king," I answered, somewhat over-gladly maybe, "Ethelnoth of Somerset, my good comrade, might have some grudge against me if I cast favouring eyes in that direction. Let this bide for a little while, I pray you, King Alfred. Yet I would not have