Now we none of us like much to speak of the fight that came next
morning, for it went ill enough. Yet we were outnumbered by twice
our force, for some more of the host beyond the fens made Alfred
send many of his men back to watch the crossing at Bridgwater.
Hubba brought his ships up on the tide, and when he saw that we
were waiting for him, he made as if to go on up the river; and we
began to move from our position, thinking that he would go and fall
on the town. Then, very suddenly, he turned his ships' bows to the
bank at the one place where he saw that the land was high almost to
the river's edge; and before we knew that we must be there to stay
him, his men were ashore, and had passed the strip of marsh, and
were on a long, gentle rise that ends in Cannington hill and the
Combwich fort, half a mile away.
We fought well for an hour, and then our men began to give on
either wing, for they were, as I would have it remembered, raw
levies that Odda had brought with him--valiant men and strong, but
with no knowledge of how to fight in line or how to hold together.
And when a force like that begins to go, it is ended.
Hard fought we in the centre after that. There were the Athelney
thanes, and my fifty men, and Odda's Exeter and Taunton townsfolk,
who had fought before; but when the wings broke, Hubba's great
force of veterans lapped round us, and we had nought left us but to
cut our way out, and make the best retreat we could. My men shouted
as they struck, in our Norse way; but a deadly silence fell on the
Saxons, and I thought that, as they grew quiet, their blows became
ever more stern and fell, until at last even Hubba's vikings gave
way before the hard-set faces and steadfast eyes of the
west-country spearmen, whom no numbers seemed to daunt, and they
drew back from us for a space.
Then we were clear of them, and at once Ethelnoth closed in on the
king, taking his horse's rein, and praying him to fly to
Bridgwater, where a stand could be made. And at last he persuaded
him, and they turned. Then fearing that this might set the example
for general flight, I spoke to Odda, and we shouted to the men to
stand fast and hold back pursuit; and so a guard of some fifty
thanes went with Alfred, and we faced the Danes even yet.
They saw what was done, and roared, and charged on us; and we began
to retreat slowly, fighting all the way, up the long slope of land
towards the fort. But I saw Heregar's horse rear and fall, and the
banner went down, and I thought him slain in that attack.
Presently they let us go. We won ever to better ground, and they
had to fight uphill; and then we gained the fort, and there they
durst not come.
Then rode towards me a man in silver armour that was dinted and
hacked--shieldless, and with a notched sword in his hand. It was
Heregar.
"I thought you slain, friend," I said gladly.
"Would that I were! for my charge is lost; they have my banner," he
answered.
"That may be won back yet," I said. "But there is no shame to you;
we were outnumbered by more than two to one."
"I have borne it through ten battles," he said, and that was all;
but he put his face in his hands and groaned.
Now I looked out over the field we had left, and saw the Danes
scattering in many ways. Some were going in a long line up the
steep hill beyond which the village lay, and over this line swayed
and danced the lost banner. There was a crowd of our men from the
broken wings gathered there--drawn together by the king as he fled,
as I knew afterwards; and I think the Danes bore our banner with
them in order to deceive them. I knew that the lane was deep and
hollow up which they must go, and there were woods on either side.
Whereat I sprang up.
"Thane," I said, "here is a chance for us to win back the banner,
as I think."
He looked up sharply, and I pointed.
"Let us ride at once into the wood, and wait for them to pass us.
Then, if we dare, we can surely dash through them."
Kolgrim sat close to me, and our horses were tethered to a spear.
He rose up when he heard me speak, saying:
"Here is more madness. But trust to Ranald's luck, thane."
Then in a few more minutes we were riding our hardest towards the
wood. I heard Odda shout after us from the entrance to the fort as
we went, but we heeded him not.
We edged up to the deep lane through the trees until we were so
near that we could almost see into it. The banner was at the head
of the column, and there were no mounted men with it. Hubba had
brought no horses with him from across the sea.
Then we waited for a long minute, hearing the tramp of the coming
men, and their loud talk and laughter as they boasted of their
prize. They were going very carelessly.
"If we get it," I whispered to the thane, whose eyes were shining,
"ride hard up the hill to our folk who are there."
He nodded and then before us fluttered the folds of his treasure.
Instantly he spurred his great white horse, and leaped straight at
it into the lane, and after him on either side came Kolgrim and I.
A great howl rose from the startled Danes, and I saw Heregar wheel
his horse and tear the banner from the man who held it, cutting
down another warrior who tried to catch his bridle. Then Helmbiter
was hard at work for a moment, and Kolgrim's axe rattled on a helm
or two; and we were away up the lane before the shouting and
confusion were over, none of the Danes knowing but that more of us
would follow from out the cover.
One or two arrows, shot by men who found their wits sooner than the
rest, pattered after us, and we gained the hilltop and the great
cheer that went up from our few men who were there made the Danes
halt and waver, and at last turn back to the open again.
We stayed on that hilltop for an hour. Then the Danes were coming
up in force, and there was no hope in staying, so we got back to
the fort before they could cut us off.
Soon after this there was a general movement on the part of our
foes, and before evening we were surrounded on all sides by strong
posts, and it was plain that we were not to move from the fort.
Now this is not very large, but it is very strong--the hill which
has been fortified being some two hundred feet high, and steep
sided as a house roof on all sides but the east, where the entrance
must needs be. But this again has outworks; and the road into the
ramparts from the long slope of Cannington hill to the southward
runs slantwise through them, so that the gap it makes in the first
line is covered by the second. And both upper and lower rampart go
right round the circle of the hilltop, and are very strong, having
been made by the British folk, who well understood such matters,
and had such fighters as the old Romans and our own forefathers to
deal with. Some parts of the works were of piled stones, and the
rest of earth, as the ground required.
There is but one way in which that fort could be taken by force, as
I think, and that is by attacking on all sides at once, which needs
a greater force than would ever be likely to come against it.
Moreover, on one side the marshy course of the Combwich stream
would hinder any heavy onslaught.
So inside these ramparts were we with some six hundred men, and
there we were watched by three times our number. There was a strong
post on Cannington hill, between us and Bridgwater; another--and
that the main body--between us and the ships, on a little, sharp
hill crest across a stony valley two bowshots wide that lay between
it and the fort; and so we were well guarded.
At first this seemed of little moment, for we were to stay Hubba
before the place; and for a while there was nothing but rejoicing
over the return of the banner. Then I found there was no water in
the place, and that we had but what food each man happened to carry
with him. Presently that want of water became terrible, for our
wounded began to cry for it piteously. Maybe it was as well that we
had few with us, because the field was left in the hands of the
Danes.
Up and down among those few went Etheldreda and Alswythe and Thora,
tending them and comforting them, where we had sent them--to the
highest point of the hilltop, inside the upper rampart; and I could
see the flutter of their dresses now and then from where I watched
beside Odda on the lower works. I had spoken to neither since we
came here.
Towards dusk I spoke to Odda, and he gave me twenty men; and
gathering all the vessels of any sort that would hold water, we
climbed over the rampart next the marsh, and stole down to the
nearest pool and brought back all we could, using helms and
leathern cloaks and the like, for want of buckets. We got back
safely that time, and I sent the same men again, thinking that
there was no danger, and so not going myself.
They got back, indeed, but with a party of Danes after them; and
but for our arrow flights from the earthworks, they would have had
to fight, and lose what they brought. After that Hubba knew what we
needed, and sent a strong picket to keep us from the marsh.
So the night passed and we had some hopes that a force might come
to our help from Bridgwater in the morning, for it was possible
that the king would be able to gather men there. It was a slender
hope, though, for the host on Polden Hills had to be watched.
All day we waited, and no help came; and with evening the last food
had gone. It had rained heavily, however, and the want of water was
past for the time. The Danes never moved from their places, waiting
to starve us out; and in the last light of evening a small party
came across the little valley from the main body, bearing a white
flag in token of parley. Hubba bid us yield, and our lives should
be spared.
"It is good of Hubba to give us the chance of living a little
longer," answered Odda; "but we will wait here a while, so please
him."
The Danes threatened us, and mocked, and so went back. We had no
more messages from their chief after that.
That night we slept round the standard where it flapped on the
hilltop. The men watched, turn by turn, along the lower ramparts;
and the Danes were not so near that we could be surprised by them,
for there was no cover to hide their coming. Nestled under the
northwest rampart was a little hut--some shepherd's shelter where
the three poor ladies were bestowed. Osmund the jarl sat a little
apart from us, but all day and night he had been tending the
wounded well. Harek who, as befitted a scald, was a good leech,
said that the jarl knew almost as much of the craft as he.
Now, in the early morning, when the light was grey, I woke, hearing
the rattle of arms and the quiet passing of the word as the men
changed guard, and I thought I would go round the ramparts; and
then Odda woke also. The rest slept on, for they had taken their
turns on watch--Heregar with his arm round the pole of the
standard, and his sword beneath his head.
Odda looked at me as we sat up stiffly, and spoke what was in his
mind and mine also.
"I have a mind to send Osmund to Hubba, and ask him to let the
women go hence. There is nought to eat today."
"There is enough kept for them," I said; for Heregar had seen to
that, and none had grudged a share.
"Ay," he answered; "but what are we to do? Are we to be starved
like rats here?"
"There are the half-dozen horses," I said.
"And nought to cook them withal. I would that the king would come."
"It is in my mind that he cannot," I answered; "there has been some
move of the other host."
Now that was true, for Guthrum's great following had suddenly swept
down towards Bridgwater, and that could not be left. They were
camped now at the foot of the hill, watching there as Hubba watched
us.
Then some one came, stepping lightly, but with clank of mail,
towards us; and I glanced round, thinking that some message was
brought from the ramparts. Odda turned idly at the same time, and
he started up.
"Ah!" he said, under his breath, "what is this?"
A tall maiden, mail clad and bearing a broad-bladed spear, stood
beside us; and I thought her one of the Valkyrias--Odin's
messengers--come to us, to fight for us in some strife to which she
would lead us. I rose too, saluting.
"Skoal to the shield maiden!" I said.
"Skoal to the heroes!" she answered; and then I knew the voice,
though, under the helm and in the grey light, the face of the
ealdorman's daughter Etheldreda had been strange to me. And Odda
knew also.
"What would you in this guise, my daughter?" he cried.
"I think that I have come as Ranald thought--as a Valkyria to lead
you to battle," she answered, speaking low, that she might not wake
the tired warriors around her. "There is but one thing for us to
do, and that is to die sword in hand, rather than to perish for
want of food and water here."
I know that this had been in my mind, and most likely in Odda's
also; but Alfred might come.
"We wait the king," the ealdorman said.
"No use," she answered. "One may see all the Polden Hills from this
place, and tonight there are no fires on Edington height, where we
have been wont to see them."
Odda groaned. "My Etheldreda, you are the best captain of us all,"
he said.
Then suddenly Heregar rose up on his elbow from beside the
standard, crying strangely:
"Ay, Father Eahlstan--when the tide is low. Somerset and Dorset
side by side. What say you, father--Somerset and Devon? Even so."
The other sleepers stirred, and the lady turned and looked on the
thane, but he slept even yet.
"Heregar dreams of the bishop he loved, and of the great fight they
fought yonder and won thirty rears ago," she said {xv}.
"Worn out is the brave thane," said I. "Strange dreams come to one
when that is so."
Then Heregar woke, and saw the maiden, and rose up at her side.
"Dear lady," he asked, "what is this?"
"Ranald thought me a Valkyria, friend; and I come on a Valkyria's
errand."
"I had a strange dream but now," Heregar said, as if it dwelt in
his mind, so that he hardly heeded what Etheldreda answered him. "I
thought that Bishop Eahlstan stood by me as in the old days, and
minded me of words that I spoke long ago, words that were taught me
by a wise woman, who showed me how to trap the Danes, when the tide
left their ships aground, so that they had no retreat. Then he
said, 'Even again at this time shall victory be when the tide is
low.' And I said that Somerset and Dorset would fail not at this
time. Then said he, 'Somerset and Devon.' Then it seemed that he
blessed me and passed. Surely I think that he would tell us that
victory is before us."
Now the other sleepers woke, and listened wondering. The light was
strong, and I looked away towards the Danes between us and the
river. Their fires were burning up one by one as they roused also;
but I thought there was some bustle down at the shore of the river,
where the ships were now afloat on the rising tide.
Then Etheldreda spoke to us in words that were brave and good to
hear--words to make a man long to give his life for country and for
friends--telling us that, since we must needs die, it was well that
we should fall sword in hand, ridding England of her foes man to
man, rather than perish in this place for nought.
And when she ended the chiefs were silent, looking on the Danes
with eyes that gleamed; and Kolgrim put the thoughts of all into
words when he said:
"Once or twice has the Berserker fury come on me when my master has
been in peril. Berserker again will you drive me, lady, so that I
care not for six foemen against me or sixty."
Then Odda cried:
"What goes on yonder? Do they leave us?" and he shaded his eyes
against the rising sun, and pointed. Certainly the Danes were
drawing towards the ships in parties of twenty and thirty at a
time, but their sentries went on their beats without heeding them.
There was no movement, either, among those on the other hill, and
the Raven banner that told of Hubba's presence was not borne away.
Now we forgot all but that here was a new hope for us, and we
watched for half an hour. Then it was plain that full half the
force was drawn off, and that the Danes were crossing the river in
the ships. We saw them land on the opposite shore, where the road
comes down to the Combwich crossing, that can only be used at
lowest tides; and they marched eastward, doubtless in search of
cattle and plunder.
Then Heregar's eyes shone, and he said:
"Now has our time come, even as Eahlstan foretold to me. In two
hours or three none of that force can return, and we have but half
as many again as ourselves left here for us to deal with."
"Let me lead you on them," said Etheldreda.
Then with one voice we prayed her to bide in the fort, and for long
she would not be persuaded. But we told her that the men would
fight as well under her eye as if they were led by her--if, indeed,
her presence did not weaken them, in fear for her safety--and so at
last she gave way.
After that there was no more doubt as to what should be done; but
Odda went round among the men, and spoke to them in such wise that
he stirred their hearts to die bravely hand to hand with the Danes.
And I thought that some of us might live to see a great if
dearly-bought victory; for it was certain that not one of these
Saxons but meant to die before he left the field.
Then Heregar and Osmund went with Etheldreda to the other two
ladies, and they bade them take the horses and fly to Dowsborough
camp as soon as the fighting drew every Dane to the eastward side
of the fort and left the way clear. Osmund would go with them, and
so no fear for them was on our minds.
Then we got the soundest of the wounded down to the lower rampart,
and drew off the men there towards the gateway, so that the Danes
might think our movement was but a changing of guard; then we
waited until we saw that the ships on the far bank had taken the
ground.
Then we sallied out, and as I went I looked back once. Three women
stood alone on the hilltop, and one waved to us. That was the
Valkyria, for her mail sparkled in the sun; but I had eyes only for
that one whom I thought I should not see again, whose little glove
was on my heart.
Now, if we were desperate, Odda was not the man to waste any chance
of victory that there might be. We went swiftly up the long slope
of Cannington hill, and fell on the post there before they on the
main guard could reach them. There was no withstanding the terrible
onset of our Saxons; half that force was slain, and the rest were
in full flight in a few minutes.
Then we went steadily down the hill to where Hubba himself waited
for us. His war horns were blowing, to call in every man who was
within hearing; and his men were formed in line four deep at the
foot of the spur on which their camp had been.
Now, when I saw this I looked on our men, who were in column again;
and it seemed to me that the old Norse plan would be good, for it
was certain that on this field we meant to stay.
"Ealdorman," I said, "while there is yet time let us form up in a
wedge and go through that line. Then shall we fight back to back,
and shall have some advantage. I and my men, who have axes, will go
first."
Then my few vikings cried, "Ay, king!" and shouted; whereat Odda
laughed grimly.
"Go on, Berserker--axes must needs lead--we will do it."
Then we changed the ranks quickly, and I and Kolgrim and Harek made
the point of that wedge. Heregar and the banner were in the midst,
and Odda himself was not far behind me, putting his best men along
the two foremost faces of the wedge.
"We shall not be foremost long," I said; "we shall be surrounded
when once we are through the line."
But as we came on, Hubba closed up his men into a dense, square
mass.
"Ho!" said Harek to me; "you are wrong, my king."
Now we were close at hand, and the Danish arrows flew among us, and
the javelins fell pretty thickly. I think that a wedge bears this
better than any other formation, for it is easy to stop the weapons
that reach it.
Our men were silent now, and I was glad, having known already what
that meant; but the Danes began to yell their war cries. Then we
were within ten paces of them, and I gripped shield and axe and
gave the word to charge, and Odda answered it.
Then was such a terrible roar from the Saxons as I had never
heard--the roar of desperate men who have their foes before them,
more awful than any war shout. And at that even the vikings shrank
a little, closing their ranks, and then, with all the weight of the
close-ranked wedge behind me, we were among them, and our axes were
at work where men were driven on one another before us; and the
press thinned and scattered at last, while the Danes howled, and
for a moment we three and a few lines behind us stood with no
foemen before us, while all down the sides of the wedge the fight
raged. Then we halted, and the Danes lapped round us. I do not know
that we lost more than two men in this first onset, so heavy was
it; but the Danes fell everywhere.
Now began fighting such as I had heard of, but had never seen
before. The scalds sing of men who fought as fights a boar at bay
in a ring of hounds, unfearing and silent; and so fought we. My axe
broke, and I took to sword Helmbiter, and once Kolgrim went
Berserker, and howled, and leaped from my side into a throng which
fell on us, and drove them back, slaying three outright, and
meeting with no hurt.
Our wedge held steady. Men fell, but we closed up; and there grew a
barrier of slain before us. I had not seen Hubba since we first
closed in, and then he had been a little to the right of where we
struck his line, under a golden banner, whereon was a raven
broidered, that hung motionless in the still morning air.
Presently the Danish onslaught slackened. Men were getting away
from their line to the rear, worn out or wounded, and the hill
beyond them was covered with those who had fallen out. They had
beaten against our lines as one beats on a wall--hewing out stones,
indeed, but without stirring it. They had more hurt than we.
Odda pushed to my side, and said to me:
"What if we advance towards the hill crest?"
"Slowly, then," I said.
He passed the word, and we began to move, and the Danes tried to
stay us. Then their attack on the rear face of the wedge slackened
and ceased, and they got round before us to fight from the higher
ground. At once Odda saw that an attack in line as they wavered
thus would do all for us, so he swung his hard Devon levies to
right and left on us Norsemen as the centre--maybe there were
twenty of us left at that time--and as the wings swung forward with
a rolling cheer, the Danes crumbled away before them, and we drove
them up the little hill and over the brow, fighting among the
half-burnt watch fires and over heaps of plunder, even to where the
tall "Raven" drooped from its staff.
Then I saw the mighty Hubba before me; and had I not known it
already, one might see defeat written in his face as he looked
across to his ships. His men were back now, and stood on the far
shore, helpless. Then was a cheer from our left, and he looked
there, and I looked also.
Out of the fort came our wounded--every one who could put one foot
before another--a strange and ghastly crowd of fifty or sixty men
who would yet do what they might for England. And with them was a
mixed crowd of thralls and village folk, bearing what arms they
could find on the place whence we drove the first Danes, and forks,
and bill hooks, and heavy staves.
I do not know if the Danes saw what manner of force came to our
help; but I think they did not. Many broke and fled to the ships;
but Hubba's face grew hard and desperate, and he cried to his men
to stand, and they gathered round him and the Raven banner.
Once again our great wedge formed up, and again charged into the
thick of the Danes. Then I faced the great chief, and men fell back
from us to see what fight should be. But from beside me came Odda.
"My fight, Ranald," he said, and strode before the Dane.
His sword was gone--the hilt and three inches of blade hung from
his wrist--and his shield was notched and gashed. His only weapon
was the broad-bladed Saxon spear, ashen shafted, with iron studs
along its length below the head. He was a head shorter than the
Dane, who was, in truth, the most splendid warrior I had ever seen;
and he bore a broad axe, wedge beaten and gold inlaid. There was
not much to choose between his shield and Odda's, but I thought the
spear the weaker weapon.
"Axe against spear," said Harek; "here is somewhat of which to
sing."
Once Odda feinted, lunging at Hubba's face; and the Dane raised his
shield a little, but did not move else, nor did his eyelids so much
as flinch, and his steady look never left his foe's face. Then, as
Odda recovered, the great axe flashed suddenly, and fell harmless
as its mark sprang back from its sweep; while like light the spear
point went forward over the fallen axe, that recovered too slowly
to turn it, and rang true on the round shield that met it.
I had not thought much of spear play until now, for we think little
of the weapon.
Again the Saxon lunged, and Hubba hewed at the spear shaft,
splintering it a little as the quick-eyed spearman swung it away
from the blow. Then the butt was over Odda's left shoulder, and
before one could tell that its swing aside had ended, forward flew
the point, darting from left to right over Hubba's arm that had not
yet recovered from the lost axe blow, and behind the shield's rim.
That blow went home, and the mighty Dane reeled and fell.
One moment's silence, and then a howl from the Danes who watched,
and they flew on us, bearing us back a pace or two. Odda went down
under the rush that was made on him, and I called to my comrades,
and stood over him, and beat them back. But Hubba's fall was the
end.
Even as I stood there, there came a rash of men from our ranks past
me; and I cheered, for I saw Heregar's silver mail driving straight
for the Raven standard, at the head of the young thanes who were
the shield wall of the Dragon of Wessex. Then, too, closed in the
wounded men and the country folk; and the Danes broke and fled
towards the ships in disorder. We followed for a little way, and
then the thralls ended matters. They say that not one Dane reached
the river's bank, beyond which their comrades watched and raged,
powerless to help them.
I went back to where Odda had fallen, and at that time there rose a
thundering cheer of victory from our wearied line, and helms were
cast into the air, and weapons waved in wild joy. That roused one
who lay before me, and white and shaking, up rose Odda from among
the slain. I went to him, and got my arm round him; and again the
men cheered, and little by little the colour came back to his face.
"I thought you slain outright," I said; "are you much hurt?"
"I cannot tell," he said. "I believe I am sound in limb, but my
wind is gone. It is ill for a stout man to have mail-clad Danes
hurled on him by heavy-handed vikings."
So he said, gasping, but trying to laugh. And, indeed, he was
unwounded, save for a cut or two, and he still grasped his red
spear in his right hand.
Now I looked on our men, and saw that we might not bide for another
fight. Already some whom the wild joy of battle had kept strong in
spite of wounds were falling among their comrades, and it seemed to
me that wounds were being bound up everywhere.
But there was a token of victory that made these seem as nothing.
In the midst of all Heregar stood with the Dragon banner, and by
his side his son-in-law, Turkil the thane of Watchet, bore the
captured "Raven."
Harek the scald looked at it once, and then went to its heavy
folds, and scanned carefully the runes that were thereon.
"Ho, comrades!" he cried joyfully, "here is a winning that will be
sung of long after our names are forgotten. This is the magic Raven
that was wrought with wizardry and spells by the daughters of
Ragnar Lodbrok. Ill will this news fall on Danish ears from end to
end of England. This is worth two victories."
"I have seen it many times before," said Heregar; "nor is this the
only time that I have tried to win it. But never before have I seen
it hanging motionless as it hung today. There seems to be somewhat
in the tale they tell of its flapping foreboding victory."
"Ay," said Odda. "Today they despised us, and bore it not forward;
therefore it flapped not, seeing that there was no wind where it
hung."
The ealdorman called us together then, and pointed to the Danes who
were massed beyond the river.
"Now it is time for us to go. We have won a good fight, and some of
us are yet alive. It will not be well to lose all by biding here to
be slain to the last man now. Shall we go to Bridgwater or to the
Quantocks, and so to Taunton?"
Then Heregar said:
"To the hills; for we should be penned in Bridgwater between this
force and the other. I think that while we are yonder they will not
do much on this side the Parret; and men will ever gather to us."
Then we took our wounded and went back to the fort--four hundred
men out of six hundred who sallied out, where we thought that none
would return. But how many Danes we left on the field it is hard to
say. Some say six hundred, and some more; and it may be so. Their
graves are everywhere over the hill where they fell. When the tide
rose we were gone; and Hubba's men sought the body of their chief,
and raised a mound over it. But they had no mind to stay on our
side of the river, and they went to the Polden Hills, and laid the
land waste far and wide, even to holy Glastonbury, until they
joined Guthrum's force at Edington.
Now one may know in what wise Etheldreda the brave shield maiden
met us, as we came back from that hard-won field, with words of
praise and thanks. But Thora stood not with her as we passed
through the fort gates, where she waited on the rampart with the
Lady Alswythe. Nor had she watched the fight at all, being torn
with sorrow and fear alike.
I found her presently, while the men made litters whereon to bear
our wounded to safety, having cleansed the stains of war from my
armour. King Harald's mail had kept me from wound worth
notice--though, indeed, I hardly know how it was that I was unhurt
thus. Kolgrim would not use his arm for many days, and Harek was
gashed in arm and thigh also.
When Osmund heard my tread, he started up from where he sat beside
Thora, looking away towards the hills to which we were going, and
greeted me warmly.
"It was a good fight, Ranald, and well won," he said.
Then Thora turned slowly, and looked at me fearfully, as if she
feared me. I was grieved, and would have gone away; but she drew
nearer, and the fear went from her eyes when she saw that I was
safe, knowing little of what I had been through. And at last she
smiled faintly, saying:
"King Ranald, they say my warrior has fought well."
"It had been strange had I not, Thora," I said.
"I think I should have hated my own kin had you fallen," she said
then.
"Ay," said Osmund, "war sees strange chances, and a man's thoughts
are pulled in many ways. Many a time have I seen Dane fight with
Dane on the old shores; and I can welcome a victor heartily, even
if it is my own kin who have been beaten. Presently we Danes will
fight for our new homes in England against such a landing from
beyond seas as you have met."
There was some scratch on my shield arm that drew Thora's eyes at
this time, and as the jarl spoke she came quickly to me, taking
some light scarf she had from her dress at the same moment.
"You are hurt," she said; "though it is little. Let me bind it for
you."
I suffered her to do so, saying nothing, but smiling at her, while
the colour came brightly into her face as she wrought. The jarl
smiled also, turning away presently as some new shouting came up
from the fort gateway, where men welcomed those who bore back the
spoils from the slain.
Then Thora had finished, and I put my arm round her and kissed her
once.
"My lady," I said, "it was worth the wound that you should tend
it."
And so she looked up at me frankly, and we knew well what had grown
up between us since the day when we had ridden together into
Wareham streets.