King Olaf's Kinsman<br />A Story of the Last Saxon Struggle against the Danes in the Days of Ironsid by Charles W. Whistler (free novel 24 txt) 📗

With that I set to work to gather the timber together from my own woods, that we might begin to build in the coming springtime, and I grew happy enough at that work, though I would that I worked for Uldra.

Then came the news that Eadmund our king was dead, slain by Streone's men--some say by the Earl's son, others by the king's own men, whom he bribed. One will, I suppose, never know what hands did the deed, but Streone's doing it was when all is told.

There is more in my mind about this than I will say. But Thrand, who had been with me, begged that he might go to Colchester for a while; and I let him go, for he waxed restless, though I knew not what he would leave me for.

Then the kingdom was Cnut's, and he spoke to the Wessex nobles at a great council in London in such wise that they hailed him for king. There was naught else for them to do. And he promised to keep the laws of Eadgar {15}, and to defend Holy Church, and to make no difference between Dane and Saxon, and by that time men knew that what Cnut the king promised that he would perform.

So came the strong hand that Ethelred our dying king had foretold, and sure and lasting peace lay fair before England. Above all things that made for our content Cnut promised to send home his host. Nor was it long before Jarl Eirik sailed away with all but those to whom lands had fallen. There were many manors whose English lords had died, and they must own Danish masters.

And I will say this other word, that now at the time that I write of these things, men speak of English only, for Cnut has welded the races of England into one in such wise as has never been before.

So I mourned for Eadmund, and wrought at home-making until the springtime came, and all the while the thought of Uldra grew dearer to me, and I longed to seek her again. And the thought of Hertha and my betrothal seemed as bondage to me. Yet I would do nought till Ailwin came or till I could find him. But none knew where he was.

I knew now that it was well that Hertha and I should not meet till all was broken off, for her I could not love, and she knew nought of me. Yet for her sake I set the Wormingford thralls at work in the like manner as my own people were busied, that she might find withal to build her own house place afresh, when, if ever, she should return.

Now, one day as I stood watching the shaping of the timber for the first framing of my hall, Thrand came back. He ran to me when he saw me, and cried:

"Master all is avenged! Streone the traitor is no more."

I took him away to a quiet place, for this news was strange, and the thralls were listening wonderingly, and I asked him how this came about.

"Master, I slew him myself," he said grimly.

Then said I:

"By subtlety--after his own manner?"

"Not so, master. But even in Cnut's own presence."

So I was amazed, and bade him tell all.

"When I left you, master," he said, "I took service with Jarl Thorkel. Then he went to court in London, even as I hoped, for that was all I needed, and presently came Streone with a great train to see Cnut. Now the king is not a great and strong man, as men think who have not seen him, but is tall and overgrown for his years, looking eighteen or twenty, though he is younger. He will be a powerful man some day, but his mail hangs loosely on him now. He is like an eagle in face, for his nose is high and bent, and his eyes are clear and piercing. Quiet and very pleasant is he in his way, and being so young also, some think they can do as they will with him. But that they try not twice.

"This is what Streone thought, for he deemed that he should be the king's master if he set him on the throne. So he must needs try to gain more wealth from the king, and after he had been at court for a while, one might see that Cnut grew weary of his words. But at last there was a great feast, and I stood behind Thorkel at the high place, and Streone was next to Thorkel, and Thorkel to the king on his right hand. When the ale was going round, Streone began to find fault with some ordering of Cnut's, and at last said:

"Maybe one might judge how things would go when the man who gave you this kingdom is treated thus.'

"Then Cnut looked at him very quietly and said:

"'You have the same honours from me as from Ethelred.'

"'Not so, not so,' he said. 'I was wont to sit at the king's right hand, with none between me and him.'

"Thereat Thorkel would have spoken, but Cnut held up his hand. I saw his bright eyes shining, and Streone should have taken warning, but his fate was on him.

"'You think, then, that you have not all you deserve?' the king said.

"'I have not. You have all--owing to me.'

"Then Cnut rose up and faced him, and a great hush fell on all the assembly.

"'This earl, as it seems, will be content with nothing short of the king's seat. Two kings has he pulled down, and one has he slain of those two. We have profited by this, as all men know. But here do I proclaim myself clear from all part in the slaying of Eadmund my brother, who, but for this man, might hereafter have taken all the kingdom when I died, according to our oaths. I suppose that no man will believe that I had nought to do with this murder, but I am clear thereof, both in thought or wish or deed.

"'Now in gaining the kingdom which has been the right of the Danish kings--if tribute paid for conquest in old time means aught--at least since the days of Guthrum, if not before, I have used the help of this earl, for Mercia was ours by right, as in the Danelagh. I will not say that his way of helping me has been what one would wish, but in war one uses what weapons one can find. For his help to me the Earl of Mercia has been well paid. Now, what shall be given to the man who betrayed to death the foster son who believed in him as in himself?'

"Then I, Thrand the freeman of Colchester, nowise caring what befell me, answered in a loud voice:

"'Let him die. He is not fit to live.'

"'Slay him, therefore,' said Cnut.

"Thereat Streone cried for mercy once, grovelling. And he having done so, I lifted the axe I bore and slew him, even on the high place at the king's feet.

"Then one in the hall said in a great voice:

"'Justice is from the hands of Cnut the king.'

"There went round a murmur of assent to that, and I called to me another of Thorkel's men, a Colchester man of your guard also, and while all held their peace and Cnut stood still looking at what was done, stirring neither hand nor foot, but with his eyes burning bright with rage and his head a little forward, as an eagle that will strike, we two bore the traitor's body to the window that overhangs the Thames, and cast it thereout into the swift tide.

"After that I went my way down the hall, and the king cried:

"'Let the man go forth.'

"So that none spoke to me or withstood me.

"When I got to the street it was dark, and it seemed to me that the best thing that I could do was to fly. So I went by day and night, and I am here."

So that was the traitor's end. And I was glad, for I knew that England was free from her greatest foe. Justly was Edric Streone slain, and all men held that it was well done. Nor did any man ever seek Thrand to avenge the earl's death on his slayer. I think none held him worth avenging.

I bade Thrand hold his peace concerning his part in this matter, for a while at least, lest I should lose him.

After Streone's death it was plain that Cnut was king indeed, for his Danish jarls knew him too well to despise him. They went each to his place, and the land began to smile again with the peace that had come, and Cnut sent Eirik the jarl home to Denmark with the host, as I have said.

Now it was not long after Streone's death that I had a message from Emma the queen to bid me to her wedding with Cnut, that should be completed with all magnificence. And I went with Thorkel the jarl and Egil, and I could not complain of the welcome I had both from the queen and from Cnut. I might say much of that wedding, for it was wonderful, but I cared not much for it, except that there I met Elfric the abbot again, and he would have me stay in his house, so that it was most pleasant to be with him, and away from the bustle and mirth of the strangers who were with the king.

But for this wedding Eadward Atheling would not come from Normandy. Men said that he was likely to gather forces against his new stepfather, but that it would be of no use. So thought I, for it was a true word that I had heard at Senlac in the hut on Caldbec hill--that Cnut should have the goodwill of all men, even of myself. For so it was, as one might see written in the faces of the London burghers, who alone of all England had baffled him again and again, and now could not do enough honour to him. He had won even their love.

When I would go back to Bures, Emma the queen sent for me, hearing that I would speak with her ere I went, and she received me most kindly, coming down from her high place to greet me.

"Redwald," she said, laughing a little, "I was a sore burden to you when we fled hence."

"My queen," I answered, "the danger was the burden. It weighed on all of us."

"That is a court speech," she said; "but we taught you court ways, and I will not blame it. Nevertheless, though you will not tell me so plainly, I know that I made things worse for you by my foolishness. Forgive the abbess, if the queen may expect nought but smooth words."

"I do not know how I can answer you, Queen Emma," said I at that, "but it is true that for you I would go through the same again."

"Then I am forgiven," she said. "Now tell me what became of the brave maiden who withstood the Danes with you, and also my sharp tongue--trouble sharpened it, Redwald, and I have repented my hard words to her."

"She is with friends at Penhurst, near to Earl Wulfnoth's castle of Pevensea. And she feared that you would hate her."

"I would that I could reward her rather," the queen said. "Have you seen her of late?"

"Not since just before last midsummer," I answered; and I suppose my face showed some feeling that the queen noted.

"Redwald," she said, "if you would wed this maiden it is I who would give her a portion that should be worthy of her and of you. Can it be so?"

"My queen," I said with a great hope in my heart, "if that is your will, I think that it must be so. But in honesty I will tell you that an old betrothal that was when I was a child seems to stand in the way. But neither I nor the child to whom I was betrothed have seen one another since the coming of Swein's host. And I know not where she is."

"Ah! you would have it broken, and I wonder not. That can surely be."

Then all at once came over me one thought of how Hertha had perhaps, after all, longed and waited and prayed for my coming. I remembered words that Ailwin had spoken that seemed to say that this might be so; and thus on the very threshold of freedom I shrank back lest I should wrong the child I had loved by breaking my troth so solemnly plighted; and I knew not what to say, while the queen looked