Now in a few days it was plain that Alfred held the Danes in the
hollow of his hand as it were, and could do what he would with
them. At first we looked for messengers from the place, to treat
with him for peace; but none came. From the town at times we could
hear shoutings and the noise of men who quarrelled, as if there
were divided counsels among them that led to blows. They were very
short of food also, because all their stores of cattle were left
outside the walls, as I have said, so that we fared the better for
their plundering while we waited.
At the end of the first week, therefore, Alfred sent a message
under flag of truce, and told the chiefs that he was willing to
hear what they would say; and next day Guthrum asked that some
chiefs might come and speak with him. But Alfred would not trust
the Danes enough to send any of his nobles into the town, and bade
Guthrum come out to the camp and say what he had to say. But he
would not. Then one day, when Alfred held counsel as to what was
best to be done to ensure lasting peace, I said that I thought Jarl
Osmund might be of use, for he could go between the two camps in
safety.
That seemed good to the king, and Heregar and I rode to find him,
crossing the tidal ford at Combwich, where we heard from village
folk who had returned that the Danish lord bided in Heregar's house
beyond the fort.
There I thought I should find Thora, and we went quickly. The place
looked very deserted, and when we came to the courtyard gates it
seemed more so, for the Maytime had sprinkled the gay-patterned
paving of grey and white shore pebbles with blades of grass and
weeds that sprang up between them everywhere for want of tendance.
Only the Lady Alswythe and a few of her servants were there now,
for the Lady Etheldreda had taken Thora with her to Taunton when
she left the hills. It had not been so safe here, though there was
little plunder to bring the Danes to the place now. So I need not
say that I was grievously disappointed, though in the dismantled
hall sat Osmund, listlessly shaping a bow stave, and waiting for
what turn of fortune should take him next.
Very glad, as one might think, were both the lady and the jarl for
our coming, and we had to tell them all the tale of the working of
Alfred's plan, and of the great fight. And when that was heard, we
told the jarl of Alfred's wish to treat with Guthrum and the other
chiefs through him.
That Osmund would gladly do; indeed, he said that, in hopes of
being thus useful, he had stayed so near at hand.
So he and the thane talked long of the matter--for Alfred had sent
messages--while I spoke with the lady, of Thora mostly.
It did not seem to me that I had any part in the king's business
with the Danes, and so presently I thought that I could do no
better than ride to Taunton to see Thora, who I feared might be in
trouble or doubt as to my safety.
So I rode there with Kolgrim. At that time the scald was laid up
with a wound in the camp, and the king seemed to miss his presence,
and to care for his welfare as if he were his brother; but, indeed,
he made every man with whom he had to do feel as if his king were
his best friend.
There is not much need for me to tell what manner of welcome I had
at Taunton from Thora. As for Etheldreda, she would have me tell
her everything, and I sat with those two, until night came and
rest, talking of all the time past. But of the time to come Thora
said nothing, and once or twice when Etheldreda left us and we were
alone for a little while, so that I could try to plan out somewhat,
she would but turn the talk again.
In the morning I found out how this was. She had gathered from
Osmund somewhat of his thoughts about what Alfred's plan for me
might be, and was unhappy therefore, not wishing to stand in my way
to honour with the king. So she told me when I pressed her a little
to speak of what I would do; and when I said that there should be
nothing that I would let stand between us, she was the more
troubled yet.
So at last I went and found Etheldreda, and prayed her to come and
speak with Thora.
"Falling out already?" she said, laughing.
"Not so, but a greater trouble than that," I said, "one that will
need your help before it is mended."
"Ay, I suppose you could patch up a quarrel for yourselves," she
said. "What is this mighty trouble?"
So she came and sat by Thora, taking her hand and kissing her, and
we told her what Osmund's thoughts were.
"There is such enmity between Saxon and Dane," Thora said, "that it
is not likely that the king will trust one who will wed one of his
foe's daughters."
It was plain that Etheldreda thought the same; but she cheered us
both, saying that she would do all that she could to help us, and
that Odda would not be behind in the matter. After all, if we were
to wait for a while, things might be very different after a little
time of peace. And so we were content.
So I went back to Alfred next day, and when he heard where I had
been he smiled a little, and said:
"One thing I must tell you, my Norseman, and that is that our
thanes who know little of you will be jealous that you should have
much dealing with any Dane as yet."
Which made me the more uneasy; for though I might think that the
king, at all events, was not displeased with me, others, and the
wishes of others, might be too strong for him to go against.
But my affairs are little things compared with what was on hand at
this time, and on the same day Alfred spoke to me about somewhat
that he would have me do for him.
In the town the Danes were in the greatest straits by this time,
for by no means could they get stores of any sort to them, so close
was the watch round the place. Osmund had been in and out once or
twice, and Guthrum had received him well enough, and it was thought
that there would be no long delay now before the siege was at an
end by the submission of the Danes to any terms they might gain,
and the more so that an assault on the fortress would surely have
been successful, ending in the fall of all its defenders.
But Alfred was most willing to be merciful, and he had bidden
Osmund tell Guthrum and his chiefs that if he might name twelve
hostages for himself the rest should go free, while Guthrum should
hold the East Anglian kingdom for him as under-king.
But this was what Alfred would have me do.
"One other thing there is," he said. "If there is to be any
brotherhood between us, it must be as between Christians. The ways
of persecution must be forgotten and that cannot come to pass until
the chiefs at least have accepted the faith."
"It is strange to me, my king," I said, "that Guthrum, who has been
in England for ten years, is not Christian by this time."
"Ay, but his hosts are heathen," the king answered. "Now I think I
can speak to you as if no longer a heathen at least?"
"As a Christian, my king," I answered.
"Well, then," he said, smiling on me, "go and speak to Guthrum and
tell him what I have said. I think that he will listen to you
better than if I sent a priest or even Bishop Sigehelm. Warrior may
speak to warrior plainly."
Now this was a hard thing for me to do, as it seemed. Maybe it was
the hardest thing he could have asked me. But it was in my mind
that I could not but go to Guthrum and give the message, else would
I seem to deny the faith that I loved. Alfred saw at once that I
was troubled in some way, and I believe that he knew well what the
seeming doubt was.
"Once you brought a token of good to me," he said. "Now that was
all unknowing. Go now and take a message of good to Guthrum openly,
and have no fear."
"What shall I say?"
"Mind not that at all," he answered; "what is needed will come to
you."
So I said that I would go if Harek might come with me, for his
words were ever ready. But Alfred would not suffer that. I must go
without help from a scald, taking only my own words; and at last I
consented, though indeed my only fear was that I might not succeed
by reason of my slowness of speech.
Then I went to Osmund, and told him that I was to go into the town
with him next day, for that is how Alfred planned for me; and I
told him also what my part in the business was to be. Whereon he
surprised me.
"I do not know that your errand is so hopeless as you seem to
think," he said. "Guthrum has harmed no Christians in East Anglia
since he was king there."
"Well," I answered, "I hope it may be easy, though I doubt it."
I would not say more then, but, being anxious, went and spoke long
with Harek. The brave scald's wounds were deep, though he had said
little of them. Some say that he saved the life of Ethelnoth at the
time when that ealdorman was struck down, and that also is
Ethelnoth's story; though the scald says that if so it was by
accident, and less worth speaking of than many braver deeds that
were wrought and went untold that day.
"Here have I been in England but six months or so, and I have more
to sing of than ever I learned with Harald Fairhair," he said one
day, as he made songs on his bed while his wounds were healing.
And he spoke the truth. Never was a winter so full of deeds wrought
by a king and a valiant people that were worth a scald's
remembrance.
Now Osmund had a last message from Alfred that day, and in the
morning we went together to the bridge. There Guthrum's own
courtmen met us, and they took us into the fortress, beyond which
lies the town, so that we saw little of what straits the host might
be in by this time. In the fortress itself all seemed in order at
least; and there was a guard set at the door of the well-built hut
where the Danish king was, as if some state were yet kept up.
There Guthrum welcomed us, and with him were many chiefs, on whose
faces was the same care-worn look that Osmund had borne when I saw
him at Exeter before Alfred.
"Two messages come to you today," Osmund said; "one by my mouth,
and the other by that of King Ranald Vemundsson, who is with me. I
think you may hear both, and answer them both favourably."
Guthrum made no reply, but took his seat at the upper end of the
one room the hut had; and all the chiefs sat also, leaving us
messengers standing.
Then said Osmund:
"I think it right that I should stand in the presence of my king,
but the son of King Vemund should not do so in any less presence
than that of his overlord."
Thereat Guthrum smiled a little.
"I have heard that Harald of Norway came to blows with his brother
kings because they would not stand before him, and that others have
left that kingdom because they did not choose to do so. Sit down,
King Ranald. Your father's name was well known to all of us in the
old days. I am glad to see his son, though maybe I should not say
so."
"We would rather that he were on our side," said one of the other
chiefs.
Then they set places for both of us, and we waited for Guthrum's
word.
"Well," he said, wearily enough, "let us hear what King Alfred
says."
"Few are his words," said Osmund:
"'Let Guthrum suffer me to choose any hostages that I will for
myself, let him swear to keep the peace hereafter as my under-king
beyond Thames, doing homage to me, and he shall go hence with his
host in honour.' There is also the message of Ranald to add
hereto."
Now I thought that the faces of the chiefs showed that they thought
these terms very light; but they said nothing as yet.
Guthrum turned to me.
"Well, King Ranald?"
"Alfred the king bids me say that he would fain treat with you
hereafter as a brother altogether. And that can only be if the
great trouble between Dane and Saxon is removed--that is, if
Guthrum becomes a Christian."
Now I expected some outburst of scorn and wrath on this, but
instead of that a silence fell, in which the chiefs looked at one
another; and Guthrum gazed at me steadfastly, so that I felt my
face growing hot under his eyes, because I knew I must say more,
and that of myself and my own wishes most likely.
Then Guthrum said slowly:
"Why has he not sent some priest to say this?"
"Because he thought that a warrior would listen best to a brother
warrior," I answered.
"Ay, that is true," said the king. "Are you a Christian,
therefore?"
"I am as yet unbaptized," I said. "I have taken the prime signing
on me, as have many others; but I shall certainly seek baptism
shortly."
"You came here as a heathen, then?"
"As a heathen altogether, except that I had no hatred of
Christians," I answered, not quite seeing what the king would know.
"What turned your mind so far from the old gods that you should be
a fit messenger on such a matter to us?"
"I have learned from Alfred and Neot," I answered, "and I know that
I have found what is true."
Then Guthrum turned to Osmund.
"What say you, jarl? you have been with Alfred also."
"When Ranald is baptized, I shall be so with him," the jarl
answered simply.
And that was the first word thereof that I had heard from him.
Then an older chief spoke sharply to us.
"What profit do you look to make thereout--either of you?"
"Certainty of better things both in this life and in that to come,"
I answered.
"Ay, so they always say," the chief growled; "but what place with
Alfred in return?"
"It is likely that I shall gain no place with him," I said. "Jarl
Osmund knows that I do not count on that."
"Ay," said Osmund, "I know it. Nor will any man think that I seek
honour at Alfred's hands."
Then Guthrum rose up, and spoke gravely and yet very determinedly,
as if this was no new matter to him.
"Here, chiefs, are two good and tried warriors who willingly choose
Alfred's faith. You and I have heard thereof since we were in
England; and many a man have we seen die, since we have been here,
because he would not give it up. I mind me of Edmund, the martyred
king, whom Ingvar, our great chief, slew, and of Humbert the
bishop, and many more lesser folk. Tell me truly how much you have
thought of the Asir in these last years?"
But none answered. It was with them as with me: the Asir were not
of England.
"One thing," said Guthrum, "has gone against our taking up the
English faith--we have thought the words of peace have made men
cowardly. Now we know that is not so. Here is one who withstood
Hubba, and round the walls watch Christian men who have beaten us
sturdily."
Then he stayed his words for a little, and his voice sank, and he
looked round and added:
"Moreover, the words of the new faith are good. I will accept King
Alfred's brotherhood altogether."
Then one or two more of the younger chiefs spoke, and said that
they would do so also; but again the elder warrior spoke fiercely.
"Is this forced on us as part of the peace making?"
"It is not," I answered. "It is, as I have said, the wish for
brotherhood altogether."
Then said Guthrum:
"That is enough. I do not think that we need be ashamed to be
conquered altogether by King Alfred."
"One more word," said the old chief. "Are we to have no hostages?"
"There can be no exchange of hostages," said Osmund.
"Things are all on the side of the Saxon," he growled.
"Ay, they are, in more ways than that," said Guthrum. "We have no
power to say a word. It is in my mind that we could not have looked
for such mildness at the king's hands. For there is no denying that
we are at his mercy.
"What say you, as a stranger, Ranald?"
"I have known the ways of Harald of Norway," I answered. "I think
that he would not have left a man of this host alive."
Whereon the old warrior laughed shortly, and was silent while
Guthrum bade us go back to Alfred and thank the king for his word,
saying that an answer should be given as soon as the word of the
host had been taken in open Thing.
So Alfred won Guthrum to the faith, and greatly did he rejoice when
he heard what the Danish king had said. I think he was more glad
yet when he knew that Osmund would become Christian also, and he
urged us both to be baptized at once.
"Let us be so with Guthrum," I asked.
"That will be fitting," he answered, "for I think you have won him
over."
But I hold that Guthrum and more of his chiefs had been won by the
deaths of those martyrs of whom he spoke long before the choice was
set before him. One cannot tell how this was wrought in the mind of
the Danes altogether by the hand of God. Some will ever say, no
doubt, that they took the Cross on them by necessity; but I know
that it was not so. Nor have their lives since that time given any
reason for the thought.
Then Alfred asked the name of that old warrior who withstood us,
and Osmund told him.
"I will have that chief as a hostage," the king said, "for I think
that he is worth taming."
"I think that King Alfred's hostages are not in any way to be
pitied," Osmund said.
"Save that they are kept from home and friends, I would have them
as happy as may be," the king answered; "but I would have none
presume on what mercy came to you, Jarl Osmund, for the sake of the
Christmastide message."
"I think that none will do so," Osmund said. "There is full
knowledge among my kin that you showed mercy when justice was about
to be done, and well they know that your kindness was not weakness.
It is likely that the mercy shown here also will do more for peace
than would even destruction of your enemies."
So it seemed at last, for on the fourteenth day of the siege the
Danes accepted the king's terms with one consent. And more than
that, Guthrum and thirty of his chiefs asked that they might be
baptized; which was a wonder to all of our host.
Now I have said nothing about the life in the great camp before
Bridgwater, for it had nothing of much note to me, though it was
pleasant enough. I think there was some jealousy of me among the
younger thanes at one time; but it passed because I would not
notice it, and also because I took no sort of authority on me,
being only the king's guest and warrior as yet. But I did find a
few young thanes of Odda's following who knew somewhat of the sea,
and I was wont to talk with them often of the ships and the like,
until I knew they would be glad to take to the viking's path with
me in the king's ships, bringing their men with them. And often
Alfred spoke with me of the matter, until I was sure that he would
have me stay.
It was but a few days after the peace had been made when Alfred
went to a great house he had at Aller, which lies right amidst the
marshes south of Athelney. We had saved that house and the church
by our constant annoyance of the Danes, with many another house and
village along the fen to which they dared not come for fear of us
at last. Guthrum was to come to him there, and I think that he
chose the place because there at least was nought to bring thoughts
of defeat to the Danes, and there they could be treated as guests,
apart from the great camp and fortress. Great were the preparations
there for the high festival that should be when Alfred himself
should take Guthrum to the font.
Then came Neot on foot, with Guerir his fellow hermit, from
Cornwall, to be present; and Harek and I rejoiced as much as the
king that he had come.
"I think I must answer for you two at the font," he said.
"For Kolgrim also, I pray you, Father Neot," said I; "for he will
be baptized with us."
"Ay, for honest Kolgrim also," he answered; "but what of old Thord,
my reprover?"
"He will have nought to do with the new faith," I said. "But at
least he does not blame us for leaving the old gods. He says he is
too old to learn what we younger men think good."
"I will seek him and speak with him again," Neot said. "I think I
owe him somewhat."
Then we thanked the holy man for the honour that he was showing us;
but he put thanks aside, saying that we were his sons in the truth,
and that the honour was his rather.
Now in the seven weeks that we waited for Guthrum at Aller, while
the priests whom Alfred sent taught him and his chiefs what they
should know rightly before baptism, Osmund and I were wont to go to
Taunton, across the well-known fens, and bide for days at a time in
Odda's house there, and we told Thora for what we waited.
She had come to England, when she was quite a child, with the first
women who came into East Anglia, and already she knew much of
Christianity from the Anglian thralls who had tended her. And when
she had heard more of late from Etheldreda and Alswythe, she had
longed to be of the same faith as these friends of hers, and now
rejoiced openly.
"Ranald," she said, "I had not dared to speak of this to my father,
but I was wont to fear the old gods terribly. They have no place
for a maiden in their wild heaven. There are many more Danish
ladies who long for this change, even as I have longed. Yet I still
fear the wrath of Odin for you and my father."
"The old gods are nought--they have no power at all," I said,
bravely enough; though even yet I had a little fear in thus defying
them, as it seemed.
"Then I will dread them no more," she answered. "Nor do I think
that you need fear them."
So I comforted her, and bade her ask more of Etheldreda, who would
gladly teach her; and the matter passed by in gladness, as a
trouble put away, for she and I were at one in this. I will say
that I had half feared that she whom I loved would have been angry
with me.
Now on that night Osmund and I and Harek would ride to Heregar's
house over the shoulder of the Quantocks, with some message we had
to take to him from Alfred; and we went without any attendants, for
the twelve miles or so would have no risk to any one, and the
summer evening was long and bright.
Yet we were later in starting away than we should have been, and so
when we were among the wilder folds of the hills, where the bare
summits rise from wooded slopes and combes, we were overtaken by a
heavy thunderstorm that came up swiftly from the west behind us,
darkening the last sunset light with black clouds through which the
lightning flickered ceaselessly.
We rode on steadily, looking for some place of shelter; but it grew
very dark, and the narrow track was rough, and full of loose stones
that made the going slow. Presently the clouds settled down on the
hill crest and wrapped us round, and the storm broke afresh on us,
with thunder that came even as the darkness was changed to blue
brightness with the lightning flashes that played around us almost
unceasing. There was no rain yet and no wind, and the heat grew
with the storm.
Soon the nearness of the flashes scared our horses, and we had to
dismount and lead them, and in the darkness we lost the little
track among the heavy heather. And then there seemed to me to be a
new sound rising among the thunder, and I called to Harek, bidding
him hearken.
It came from seaward, and swelled up louder and louder and nearer,
until it passed over our heads--the yelp and bay of Odin's wild
hounds, and the trample and scream of his horses and their dead
riders. A great fear fell on me, so that the cold sweat stood on my
forehead, while the hunt seemed everywhere above us for a moment,
and then passed inland among the thunder that hardly drowned its
noises.
Then Osmund the jarl cried out:
"That was Odin's hunt. I have heard it before, and ill came
thereof. He hunts us who forsake him."
And out of the darkness Harek answered, without one shake in his
brave voice:
"Odin's hunt in truth it was, and the ill comes to Odin, who must
leave this land before the might of the Cross. We who bear the sign
of might he cannot touch."
Then I remembered myself, and the fear passed from me, and I was
ashamed. I had no doubt now that there was need for Odin's wrath,
seeing that he was surely defeated. And Osmund was silent also,
thinking doubtless the same things; for he had taken on him the
prime signing long ago, and had forgotten it maybe.
Then we went on, and the storm grew wilder. Harek sang now, but
what the words were I cannot tell. I think they were some that he
had learned from Alfred.
Now we began to go down the southern slope of the highest neck of
the hill, as it seemed, though we could not rightly say where we
were, and in a little silence that came between the thunderclaps I
heard the rattle of hoofs as of another rider coming after us,
going faster than we dared.
"Here is one who knows the hill well," I said; "maybe he will guide
us."
And then the lightning showed the horseman close to us. He reined
up, and cried in a great voice:
"Ho, strangers! are you wandering here?"
"Ay; we are lost till the storm passes. Can you guide us to shelter
before the rain comes?" I said.
"Whence come you?" he asked.
"We are Alfred's men from Taunton--going to the thane's house at
Cannington."
"Ay, is that so? Then I will guide you. Follow," he said, and he
rode on.
One could see him plainly when the lightning came, and it showed a
tall man, grey bearded, and clad in a long hooded horseman's cloak,
under which gleamed golden-shining mail. Well mounted on a great
horse he was also, and its sides were white with foam on the dark
skin, as though he had ridden hard.
We mounted and went after him, with the lightning playing round us
and glancing from the mail of our leader as his arm threw the cloak
back over his shoulder from time to time. He led us along the hill
crest northward, crossing the places where the fire beacons had
been; and we wondered whither he was taking us, for shelter here
was none. And now the storm grew wilder, with the wind and chill of
coming rain.
Then he turned downhill, riding fast until we came to a place where
rocks lay loose and scattered everywhere, and our horses stumbled
among them. There he reined up suddenly, holding up his hand, and
shouting through the uproar of wind and thunder:
"Hold, for your lives! Hearken!"
We stayed motionless, listening, and again we heard the cry and
clang of Odin's hunt, coming now from inland over us, and I made
the sign of the Cross on my breast, in fear thereof.
"Ho for Odin's hunt!" the strange man cried, in his mighty voice.
"Hear it, Alfred's men, for you shall join it and ride the wind
with him if you defy him."
"We fear him not," said Harek; "he has no power over us."
"Has he not?" the man roared, facing full upon us; and as he did so
the lightning glared on him, and I saw that his drawn sword was
aloft, and that from its point glowed a blue flame, and that blue
flames also seemed to start from his horse's ears. One-eyed the man
was also, and he glowered on us under shaggy eyebrows.
Harek saw also, and he raised his hand towards the man and signed
the holy sign, crying:
"Speak! who are you?"
Thereat the man gave a hoarse roar as of rage, and his horse
reared, trampling wildly on the loose rocks, and, lo, he was gone
from before our eyes as if he had never been, while the thunder
crashed above us and below us everywhere!
"Odin! the Cross has conquered!" Harek cried again, in a voice that
was full of triumph; and the blood rushed wildly through me at the
thought of what I had seen.
Then Harek's horse shifted, and his hoof struck a great stone that
rolled as if going far down the hill, and then stopped, and maybe
after one could count five came a crash and rattle underneath us
that died away far down somewhere in the bowels of the hill. And at
that Osmund shouted suddenly:
"Back to the hill; we are on the brink of the old mine shaft! Back,
and stay not!"
Nor did we wait, but we won back to the higher ground before we
drew rein.
"We have met with Odin 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}.