It was not long before the shift of wind that I looked for came,
and at once I took all the ships round to the river Exe. Odda had
left me all the seamen he had, and they were enough for the short,
fair passage. We came to the haven in the river, and there heard
what news there was, and it was good enough. Odda had sent
well-mounted men to reach the king by roads away from the
retreating Danes, and he had been ready for them. He drew off his
levies from before the walls of the town, and let his enemies pass
him; then he and Odda fell on their rear and drove them into
Exeter, and there was holding them. It was well done; for though
the host sallied from the town to meet the newcomers, they gained
nothing but a share in the rout that followed when Odda closed on
the rear guard and the king charged the flank.
Now we heard that as soon as we landed. And then I had my first
knowledge of the ways of a Saxon levy. For no sooner were the ships
berthed than their crews began to leave them, making for their
homes.
One or two men I caught in the act of leaving in the early morning,
and spoke sharply to them, for it seemed that soon there would be
ships enough and not a man to tend them. Whereon they answered:
"We have done what we were called up for, and more also. Now may
others take our places. What more would you have? We have won our
victory, and the ships are not needed for a while."
So they went, and nothing I could say would stay them. I waxed
angry on that, and I thought I might as well sail for Ireland as
not. There seemed no chance of doing aught here, where men would
throw away what they had won of advantage.
So I went back to my own ship and sat under the after awning, in no
good temper. Thord and Kolgrim were yet busy in and about the
vessels, making all secure, and setting men to work on what needed
repairing. Presently Harek the scald came and sat with me, and I
grumbled to my heart's content about this Saxon carelessness and
throwing away of good luck.
Many Saxons--men from camp, and freemen of the place, and some
thanes--came, as one might expect, to stare at the ships and their
prizes. I paid no heed to them as the day went on, only wishing
that Odda would come and speak to me about his doings, for I had
sent word to him that we were in the river. Sometimes a thane would
stay and speak with me from the wharf alongside which my own ship
was with one or two others, and they were pleasant enough, though
they troubled me with over many thanks, which was Odda's fault.
However, I will say this, that if every man made as little of his
own doings and as much of those of his friends as did the honest
ealdorman, it were well in some ways.
By and by, while we were talking, having got through my grumble,
Kolgrim came along the shore with some Saxon noble whom he had met;
and this stranger was asking questions about each ship that he
passed. I suppose that Kolgrim had answered many such curious folk
already; for when he came near and we could hear what he was
saying, I was fain to laugh, for, as sailors will, he was telling
the landsman strange things.
"What do we pull up the anchor with?" he was saying. "Why, with
yonder big rope that goes from masthead to bows." and he pointed to
the great mainstay of our ship. "One must have a long purchase, if
you know what that is."
"Ah, 'tis wonderful," said the Saxon.
Then he caught my eye, and saw that I was smiling. He paid no heed
to me, however, but looked long at the ship that lay astern of
ours--one of the captured Danes. Thord had set a gang of shore folk
to bend the sail afresh to a new yard, for the old one had been
strained in the gale that came before the fight.
"What are those men doing, friend?" he asked Kolgrim directly.
"Bending a sail," answered my comrade listlessly, trusting, as it
would seem, to the sea language for puzzlement enough to the
landsman.
"So," said the Saxon, quite quietly. "It was in my mind that when a
sail was bent to the yard it was bent with the luff to the fore end
thereof."
At which words Kolgrim started, in a way, and looked first at the
riggers and then back at the Saxon, who moved no muscle of his
face, though one might see that his eyes twinkled. And I looked at
the riggers also, and saw that the Saxon was right, and that the
men had the square-cut sail turned over with the leech forward and
the luff aft. The sail was half laced to the yard, and none but a
man who knew much of ships would have seen that aught was wrong.
Then Kolgrim's face was so red, and angry, and full of shame all at
once, that I had the best laugh at him that had come to me for many
a day. And he did not bide with the Saxon any longer, but went on
board the ship hastily, and said what he had to say to the riggers.
The Saxon stood, and looked after him with a smile breaking over
his pleasant face, and I thought that maybe I owed him some amends
for my comrade's rough jesting, though indeed he had his revenge.
So I came ashore and spoke to him. He was a slight, brown-haired
man of about thirty, bearded and long-haired after the Saxon
fashion, and I thought he seemed to be recovering from some wound
or sickness that had made him white and thin. He wore his beard
long and forked, which may have made him look thinner; but he
seemed active and wiry in his movements--one of those men who make
up for want of strength by quickness and mastery of their weapons.
Soberly dressed enough he was, but the cloth of his short cloak and
jerkin was very rich, and he had a gold bracelet and brooch that
seemed to mark him as high in rank.
"My comrade has been well caught, thane," I said; "he will be more
careful what tales he tells the next comer. But I think he was
tired of giving the same answers to the same questions to all who
come to see us."
"Likely enough," the Saxon answered, laughing a little. "I asked to
see the prizes and the vikings' ships, and he showed me more than I
expected."
Then he looked along the line of vessels that he had not yet
passed, and added:
"I thought there were more Norse ships with Odda."
I told him how the other vikings had left us with their plunder at
Wareham, saying that I thought they could well be spared at that
time.
"However," I said, "I did not count on the Saxons leaving their
vessels so soon."
"Then I take it that I am speaking with King Ranald, of whom Odda
has so much to say," he said, without answering my last words.
"I am Ranald Vemundsson," I said; "but this ship is all my kingdom
now. Harald Fairhair has the land that should have been mine. I am
but a sea king."
Then he held out his hand, saying that there was much for which
every Saxon should thank me, and I passed that by as well as I
could, though I was pleased with the hearty grip he gave me.
"So long as Odda is satisfied it is enough," I said. "If I have
helped him a little, I have helped a man who is worth it."
"Well," said the thane, "you seem to be pleased with one another.
Now I should like to see this ship of yours, of which he has so
much to say."
We went over her, and it was plain that this thane knew what he was
talking about. I wondered that the king had not set him in command
instead of Odda, who frankly said what was true--that he was no
sailor. I supposed that this man, however, was not of high rank
enough to lead so great a gathering of Saxons, and so I said
nothing to him about it.
By and by we sat on the after deck with Harek, and I had ale
brought to us, and we talked of ship craft of all sorts. Presently,
however, he said:
"What shall you do now--if one may ask?"
"I know not. When I sailed from Wareham, I thought to have seen
more sea service with Alfred your king. But now his men are going
home, and in a day or two, at this rate, there will be none left to
man the ships."
"We can call them up again when need is," he answered.
"They should not go home till the king sends them," I said. "This
is not the way in which Harald Fairhair made himself master of
Norway. Once his men are called out they know that they must bide
with him till he gives them rest and sends them home with rewards.
It is his saying that one sets not down the hammer till the nail is
driven home, and clinched moreover."
"That is where the Danes are our masters," the Saxon said, very
gravely. "Our levies fight and disperse. It was not so in the time
of the great battles round Reading that brought us peace, for they
never had time to do so. Then we won. Now the harvest wants
gathering. Our people know they are needed at home and in the
fields."
"They must learn to know that home and fields will be better served
by their biding in arms while there is a foe left in the land. What
says Alfred the king?" I said.
"Alfred sees this as well as you, or as any one but our freemen,"
he answered; "but not yet can he make things go as he knows they
should. This is the end at which he ever aims, and I think he will
teach his people how to fight in time. I know this, that we shall
have no peace until he does."
"Your king can build a grand ship, but she is of no use without men
in her day by day, till they know every plank of her."
"Ay," said the Saxon; "but that will come in time. It is hard to
know how to manage all things."
"Why," I said, "if the care of a ship is a man's business, for that
he will care. You cannot expect him to care for farm and ship at
once, when the farm is his living, and the ship but a thing that
calls him away from it."
"What then?"
"Pay the shipman to mind the sea, that is all. Make his ship his
living, and the thing is done."
"It seems to me," the thane said, "that this can be done. I shall
tell the king your words."
"As you will," I answered; "they are plain enough. I would say also
that Harald our king has about him paid warriors whose living is to
serve him, and more who hold lands on condition that they bear arms
for him at any time."
Now Harek had listened to all this, and could tell the thane more
of Harald's ordering of things than I; so he took up the talk for a
time, and presently asked about the war and its beginning.
"Faith," answered the Saxon, with a grim smile, "I cannot tell when
the war began, for that was when the first Danes came to the
English shores. But if you mean the trouble that is on hand now, it
is easily told. Ten years has this host been in England--coming
first with Ingvar and Halfden and Hubba, the three sons of Lodbrok.
Ingvar has gone away, and Guthrum takes his place. Halfden is in
Northumbria, Hubba is in Wales, and Guthrum is king over East
Anglia and overlord of Mercia. It is Guthrum against whom we are
fighting."
"He is minded to be overlord of all England," said Harek.
"That is to be seen if a Dane shall be so," the Saxon answered,
flushing. "We beat them at first, as I have said, and have had
peace till last year. Then they came to Wareham from East Anglia.
There they were forced to make peace, and they swore on the holy
ring {v} to depart from Wessex; and we, on our part, swore
peace on the relics of the holy saints. Whereon, before the king,
Alfred, was ware of their treachery, they fell on our camp, slew
all our horsemen, and marched here. Then we gathered the levies
again--ay, I know why you look so impatiently, King Ranald--and
came here after them. As for the rest, you have taken your part.
Now we have them all inside these walls, and I think we have done."
Then his face grew dark, and he added:
"But I cannot tell. What can one do with oath breakers of this
sort?"
Then I said:
"Surely you do not look for the men of one chief to be bound by
what another promises?"
He looked wonderingly at me for a moment, and then said:
"How should it be that the oath of their king should not bind the
people?"
"Why," said I, "you have spoken of several chiefs. If Guthrum
chooses to make peace, that is not Halfden's business, or Hubba's,
or that of any chief who likes it not. One is as free as the
other."
"What mean you? I say that Guthrum and his chiefs swore by the
greatest oath they knew to return to Mercia."
"If they swore by the holy ring, there is no doubt that they who
swore would keep the oath. But that does not bind those who were
against the peace making. So I suppose that they who held not with
the peace made by the rest fell on you, when your levies went home
after their wont. One might have known they would do so."
Thereat the thane was silent for a while, and I saw that he was
troubled. It seemed to be a new thought to him at this time that
the Danish hosts in England were many, and each free to act in the
way its own chief thought best, uniting now and then, and again
separating. This he must needs have learned sooner or later, but
the knowledge came first to him there before Exeter walls.
Presently he said:
"I have believed that all the Danes were as much one under Guthrum
their king as are my folk under theirs. I cannot see the end of
this war."
"It will end when Alfred the king is strong enough always to have
men in the field to face every leader that will fall on him," Harek
said. "What King Ranald says is true. It is as if his own father
had minded what Harald had sworn in the old days."
"Wherefore Harald brought all Norway under him, that every man
should mind what he said," the Saxon answered.
Then came three or four more thanes along the shore, and he rose up
and waved his hand to them.
"Here are more butts for Kolgrim," he said, laughing. "Now, King
Ranald, I must go to my friends. But I have learned much. I think
you must speak with the king before you go, and I will tell him all
you have said."
"Maybe we shall meet again," said I, taking his offered hand. "I
think I would see Alfred; but he is over wise, from all accounts,
to learn aught from me."
"King Alfred says that wisdom comes little by little, and by
learning from every one. I belong to the court, and so shall surely
meet you if you do come to speak to him."
Then I asked the thane's name.
"Godred {vi} men say it is," he answered, laughing; "but that
means better counsel than belongs to me."
So he went ashore and joined the thanes, who had gone slowly along
the road, and we lost sight of him.
"Yonder goes a pleasant comrade enough," I said to Harek.
"Ay," the scald answered; "but if that is not Alfred the king
himself, I am much in error."
"It is not likely. I think he is a bigger man and older, from all
accounts," I said carelessly. "Moreover, he would not have put up
with Kolgrim's jests as he did."
"One knows not; but I thought he spoke of 'my folk' once. And he
seemed to ask more than would a simple thane, and in a different
way."
However, it seemed to me that Harek had found a marvel for himself,
and I laughed at him for supposing that Alfred the king would come
there to speak to any man.
Now towards evening Odda came, and with him many servants and a
train of wagons. He would make a feast for us in the best house of
the village, by the king's order. Every one of us was called, and
all the leading Saxon shipmen, when all was ready, and it was a
kingly feast enough.
While they were making it ready, the ealdorman came to me on board
the ship, and welcomed me in most friendly wise.
"I have a message for you, King Ranald," he said presently. "Some
thanes have been to me from the king, and he bids me ask you to
come and speak with him."
"I saw a thane here this morning who was anxious for me to see the
king," I said. "A pleasant man enough--one Godred."
"Ay, Godred is pleasant enough," Odda said, smiling, "but he is a
terrible man for asking questions."
He laughed again, as if he knew the man well, and was pleased to
think of him and his ways.
"None of his questions are foolish, however," I said. "I was
pleased with him."
"It is well if you pleased him, for he is a powerful man at court,"
said Odda.
"I do not know if I pleased him, or if it makes any difference to
me what power he has," I said carelessly. "If I want any man to
speak for me to the king--which is not likely--I should come to you
first."
"Speak for yourself," laughed Odda, "that is the best way with
Alfred."
So we planned to go to Exeter with the next morning's light. Odda
would bide here for the night, after the feast.
Now after we had finished eating, and the ale and mead and the wine
the king had sent in our honour were going round, and the gleemen
were singing at times, there came a messenger into the house, and
brought me a written message from the king himself, as he said.
"Much good are these scratches to me," said I to Odda. "Can you
read them?"
"I can read nought but what is written in a man's face," he said.
So I gave the scroll to Harek, who sat next me, thinking that maybe
the scald could read it. He pored over it for a while.
"It is of no use, king," he said. "It is in my mind that I know
which is the right way up of the writing, but I am not sure."
So I laughed, and asked aloud if any man present could read. There
were a good many thanes and franklins present to feast in our
honour.
Then rose up a man, in a long brown hooded habit girt with a cord,
from below the salt where he sat among the servants. He had a long
beard, but was very bald. His hair grew in a thick ring round his
head; which was strange, for he seemed young.
"I am here, ealdorman," he said to Odda; "I will read for King
Ranald."
Now all eyes turned to see who spoke, and in a moment Odda rose up
hastily and went down the long room till he came to where the man
stood. Then I was amazed, for the ealdorman went on one knee before
him, and said:
"Good my lord, I knew not that you were here among the crowd. I
pray you come to the high seat."
"When will you remember that titles and high places are no longer
pleasing to me?" the man said wearily. "I tire of them all. Rise
up, Odda, my friend, and let me be."
"I will not rise without your blessing, nevertheless," said the
ealdorman.
Whereon the man spoke a few words to him softly and quickly,
signing with his hand crosswise over him.
Then I said to those about me, who were watching all this in
silence:
"Who is this strange man?"
"It is Neot the holy, King Alfred's cousin," one answered,
whispering.
"That is a strange dress for an atheling," I said; but they hushed
me.
Now it seemed that Odda tried again to draw this Neot to the high
table, but he would not come.
Then I said to old Thord, who sat over against me beyond Odda's
empty chair:
"This is foolishness; or will he not honour the king's guests?"
But a thane shook his head at me, whispering behind his hand:
"It is humbleness. He has put his rank from him, and will not be
held as being above any man."
Then spoke old Thord:
"Maybe he can put his rank away among men who know him not, and
that is a good humbleness in a way. But where all know what his
birth is, he has but to be humble and kind in ways and speech, and
then men will think more thereof than they will if they see him
pretending to be a churl."
Now Thord's voice was rough with long years of speaking against the
wash of the waves, and the thunder of wind in sail and rigging, and
the roll and creak of oars; and as he said this, every one turned
towards him, for a silence had fallen on the crowd of folk who
watched Neot the king's cousin and his strife with Odda.
So Neot heard, and his face flushed a little, and he looked hard at
Thord and smiled curiously, saying:
"In good truth the old warrior is right, and I am foolish to hide
here now I am known. Let me go and sit by him."
Then Odda led him to the upper end of the room, and every one rose
as he passed by. I drew myself nearer to the ealdorman's place, and
made room for him where only the table was between him and Thord,
for that bench was full.
So he put his hand on my shoulder and sat down, looking over to
Thord, and saying with a quiet smile:
"Thanks for that word in season, friend."
But the old warrior was somewhat ashamed, and did but shift in his
seat uneasily.
"Ay, ay," he growled; "I cannot keep my voice quiet."
Neot laughed, and then turned to me and held out his hand for the
king's letter, which I gave him.
He ran his eyes over the writing very quickly, and then said:
"Here is nothing private; shall I read aloud?"
But the thanes fell to talking quickly, and I nodded.
"Alfred the king to his cousin Ranald Vemundsson, greeting. Odda
the ealdorman of Devon, and one Godred, have spoken to me of
yourself--one telling of help given freely and without question of
reward or bargain made, and the other of certain plain words spoken
this morning. Now I would fain see you, and since the said Godred
seems to doubt if you will come to me, I ask it under my own hand
thus. For I have thanks to give both to you and your men, and also
would ask you somewhat which it is my hope that you will not refuse
me. Therefore, my cousin, I would ask you to come with our
ealdorman tomorrow and hear all I would say."
Then Neot said,
"That is all. I think you will not refuse so kindly an invitation.
The writing is the king's own, and here is his name at the end."
So he showed it me. The letter was better written than the name, as
it seemed to me.
"I will take your word for it," I said, laughing as I looked; "but
it is a kindly letter, and I will surely come."
"Ay; he has written to you as to an equal," Odda said.
"That is so. Now I would have the good king know that I am not
that; I am but a sea king. Maybe he thinks that I shall be a good
ally, and makes more of my power than should be. I told Godred the
thane as plainly as I could what I was, this morning."
"Why, then," said Neot, smiling, "Godred has told the king, no
doubt."
"I hope he has," I answered, "but I doubt it. Nevertheless it is
easy to tell the king myself when I see him."
After that we talked about other matters, and it became plain that
this Neot was a wonderfully wise man, and, as I thought, a holy one
in truth, as they called him. There is that about such an one that
cannot be mistaken.
Harek sang for us, and pleased all, and into his song came, as one
might suppose, a good deal about the Asir. And then Neot began to
ask me a good deal about the old gods, as he called them. I told
him what I knew, which was little enough maybe, and so said that
Harek knew all about them, and that he should rather ask him.
He did not care to do that, but asked me plainly if I were a
Christian.
"How should I be?" I said. "Odda is the first Christian man I have
spoken with, to my knowledge. So, if I were likely to leave my own
faith, I have not so much as heard of another."
"So you are no hater of Christians?" he said.
"Surely not. Why should I be? I never thought of the matter."
Then he said:
"Herein you Norsemen are not like the Danes, who hate our faith,
and slay our priests because of their hatred."
"More likely because Christian means Saxon to them, or else because
you have slain them as heathens. Northmen do not trouble about
another nation's faith so long as their own is not interfered with.
Why should they? Each country has its own ways in this as in other
matters."
Thereat Neot was silent, and asked me no more. Hereafter I learned
that hatred of race had made the hatred of religion bitter, until
the last seemed to be the greatest hatred of all, adding terror and
bitterest cruelty to the struggle for mastery.
Presently, before it was very late, Neot rose up and spoke to Odda,
bidding him farewell. Then he came to me, and said:
"Tell the king that we have spoken together, and give him this
message if you will that I go to my place in Cornwall, and shall be
there for a while."
Then he passed to Thord, and took his hard hand and said:
"Good are words that come from an honest heart. I have learned a
lesson tonight where I thought to have learned none."
"I marvel that you needed to learn that," Thord said gruffly.
"So do I, friend," answered Neot; "but one is apt to go too far in
a matter which one has at heart, sometimes before one is aware.
Then is a word in season welcome."
Then he thanked Harek for his songs, and went, the Saxons bowing as
he passed down the long table with Odda.
"That is a wise man and a holy," said Thord.
"Ay, truly," answered the thane who had told me about him. "I mind
when he and Alfred the king were the haughtiest and most
overbearing of princes. But when Neot found out that his pride and
wrath and strength were getting the mastery in his heart, he thrust
himself down there to overcome them. So he grows more saintlike
every day, and has wrought a wondrous change in the king himself.
He is the only man to whom Alfred will listen in reproof."
"That is likely," I said, not knowing aught of the holy bishops who
were the king's counsellors; "kings brook little of that sort. But
why does he wear yon strange dress?"
"He has taken vows on him, and is a hermit," the thane said; but I
did not know what he meant at the time.
It was some Saxon way, I supposed, and cared not to ask more.
So it came to pass that I met one of the two most wonderful men in
England, and I was to see the other on the morrow. Yet I had no
thought that I should care to stay in the land, for it seemed
certain from what Odda told me that peace would be made, and peace
was not my business nor that of my men.
So in a way I was sorry that the war was at an end, seeing that we
came for fighting and should have none.
Then came a thought to me that made me laugh at myself. I was glad,
after all, that we were not going sword foremost into Exeter town,
because of the Lady Thora, who was there. I suppose it would not
have been reasonable had I not had that much thought for the brave
maiden whom I had helped out of danger once.