When morning came it was great wonder and joy to me to wake and
find myself in England and free, for indeed I had begun to think of
my comradeship with the Danes as a sort of thralldom that I knew
not how to break. And now I longed to make my way back to Reedham
as soon as I might, for I had been many weeks away, though I have
said little of all that befell in that time beyond what was
needful. One thing saved me from grief that might have been, and
that was the knowledge that Ingild, the merchant, had not been told
to look for my coming, and that none at home would wonder if I were
long away, because of that plan of wintering our ship in the
Thames. And I knew that not one of my poor crew could have lived to
take news of the wreck.
That I must take back myself; and though I could not fairly be
blamed for loss of ship and crew, the thought of having to break
the tidings to those who would mourn for their lost ones was very
hard to me. But it must be done, and there was an end.
Now came to me, as I thought of these things, my friend the Prior
of Bosham, and he sat down beside me and asked how he could further
my plans. He himself must go to Selsea, there to see the bishop and
tell him all, not forgetting my part, as he said.
I told him that I only needed a horse, and that then I should ride
to London, where I had friends: and he asked me if I had money
wherewith to buy one, for he had none, else would he gladly do so
for me. And that reminded me of the bag which Halfden gave me, and
I opened it.
It was full of treasure--gold ornaments, and chains wherein were
set precious stones, and some gold coins and silver, and these were
the least value of all. But little pleasure had I in them, for I
knew too well how they came, and a thought came to me.
"Father," I said, "this comes from ruined towns on yonder
shore--take it and build up Bosham again. Aye, take it."
"Why, my son, here is treasure enough to build three villages like
ours," he said quietly; "for timber houses cost but labour in this
forest land, and there was naught else worth taking in the place."
"But your people are the poorer," I said; "I pray you take it for
their need, and for a new bell, moreover."
And so I urged him till he took the greatest gold chain, saying
that in honesty he could no more, for that would surely make Bosham
wish for more burnings if they turned out as this.
"Keep the rest and buy a new ship," he said, "and forget not that
always and every day your name will be remembered at the time of
mass in Bosham; and that may help you in days to come."
So he blessed me and departed, and I think that both of us were
light at heart, save for parting. And I have never seen the good
prior again, though his face and words I cannot forget.
Soon came one to lead me to the presence of the thane and his wife,
and from them I found kindness more than I could have looked for.
We broke our fast together, and then the lady asked me if I would
accept horse and gear for my journey from her, for she had heard
from the prior that I had been shipwrecked, who had also told her
all the story of our doings at Bosham.
Thanking her, I told her that though shipwrecked, I was yet rich,
having a store of wealth with me; for I thought that it was in the
minds of these kind people that I was in need.
"Be not proud," she said "bide with us for a while, and then take
horse and go. We hold that you have deserved well of all of us."
But I told her of my mother and sister at home, and how I would
fain be back with them, so she pitied me the more, saying that now
for their sakes she would hasten me.
"Aye, lad," said the thane, "we have sons of our own at court, and
the lady would that someone would pack them home on a good
horse--so she must not be denied."
Thus they persuaded me, and when I tried to thank them, the thane
laughed, and the lady said:
"Thank me not but in one way, and that is by asking your mother to
help homeward some other lady's son when need is. And that is all I
would wish."
And the end of it was that I rode away from Chichester town on a
good horse and with change of clothes in saddlebags, and those
worthy people stood at the gate to give me good speed.
Yet that is not the end, for there are one or two who have ridden
in like sort from Reedham since that day, and have borne home the
like message; so that I know not where the ending of that kindly
deed may be.
Past the old Chichester walls I went, and out on the long line of
the Roman street that should take me to London. And as I went I
sang, for the green beechen woods were wondrous fair to me after
the long weeks of changing sea, and it seemed to me that all was
going well, so that I put away for the time the grievous thought of
my shipwreck, the one hard thing that I must face when I came home
again.
There is nothing to tell of that ride; for well armed, and rich,
and with a good horse, what should there be? And at last I came to
London town, and rode straightway to the great house of my
godfather, Ingild, that stood by London Bridge. Very strange it was
to me to look out over the Pool as I crossed, and not to see our
good ship in her wonted place, for this was the first time I had
come to London except in her.
At the door of the courtyard, round which Ingild had his great
storehouses and sheds for goods, I drew rein, and two serving men
whom I knew well came out. Yet they knew me not, staring at my arms
and waiting for my commands.
So I spoke to them by name, and they started and then laughed,
saying that they must be forgiven for not knowing me in my arms,
for surely I had changed greatly since two years ago, when I was
last with them.
It was the same when Ingild himself came out, ample robed and
portly; for he gazed long at my helmed face, and then cried:
"Why, here is a marvel! Wulfric, my son, you have grown from boy to
man since last we met; and you come in helm and mail shirt and on
horseback, instead of in blue homespun and fur cap, with an oar
blister on either hand. How is this?"
Then he kissed me on both cheeks and led me in, running on thus
till a good meal was before me, with a horn of his mighty ale; and
then he let me be in peace for a little while.
Afterwards, as we sat alone together, I told him all that had
befallen, even as I would have told my father, for in my mind
Ingild, my godfather, came next to him and our king, and I loved
him well.
Sorely he grieved for loss of ship and goods and men, but he told
me that we were not the only seamen who had been hurt by that
sudden gale. Nor did he blame me at all, knowing that Kenulf was in
truth the commander of our ship. Rather was he glad that it had
chanced that I had left her and so was safe.
Then when I told him of my turning viking thereafter, he laughed
grimly, with a glitter of his eye, saying that he would surely have
done the same at my age--aye, and any young man in all England
likewise, were he worth aught.
So when I had told him all about my journey, I showed him the bag
that Halfden gave me, and well he knew the value of the treasure
therein.
"Why, son Wulfric," he cried; "here is wealth enough to buy a new
ship withal, as times go!"
And I would have him keep it, not being willing to take so great a
sum about with me, and that he did willingly, only asking me to let
him use it, if chance should be, on my behalf, and making me keep
the silver money for my own use going homeward.
"Yet I will keep you awhile, for Egfrid, the Thane's son of Hoxne,
who is here at court, goes home for Yuletide, and so you can ride
with him. And I think it will be well that we should send word to
your father of how things have been faring with you, for so will
you have naught of misfortune to tell when you come home."
I thought this wise counsel and kindly, for my people would best
tell those wives and children of their loss, and so things would be
easier for me. And Ingild sent writing to my father by the hand of
some chapman travelling to the great fair at Norwich; and with his
letter went one from me also, with messages to Lodbrok--for Eadmund
had made me learn to write.
So after that I abode with Ingild, going to the court of Ethelred
the King with him, and seeing the great feasts which the merchant
guilds made for the king while he was in London; with many other
wondrous sights, so that the time went quickly, and the more so
that this Egfrid was ever with me. I had known him when we were
little lads together at our own king's court, but he had left to go
to that of our great overlord, Ethelred, so that I had not seen him
for long years. And one may sail up our Waveney river to Hoxne,
where his father's house is, from ours at Reedham, though it is a
long way.
Now in the week before Yuletide we would start homewards, so with
many gifts and words of good speed, Ingild set us forth; and we
rode well armed and attended as the sons of great thanes should. So
the way was light to us in the clear December weather, and if it
were long the journey was very pleasant, for Egfrid and I grew to
be great friends, and there is nothing more joyous than to be
riding ever homeward through wood and over wild, with one whose
ways fit with one's own, in the days of youth, when cares are none
and shadows fall not yet across the path.
When we came to Colchester town we heard that Eadmund was yet at
Thetford, and when we asked more we learnt that Lodbrok was there
also with my father. So, because Hoxne was but twenty miles or
thereby from Thetford, both Egfrid and I were glad that our way was
yet together, and we would go there first of all.
One other thing we heard in Colchester, for we waited there for two
days, resting our horses. There was a wandering gleeman who came
into the marketplace on the hill top, and we stood and listened to
him.
And first he sang of how Danes had come and burnt Harwich town. But
the people told him to sing less stale news than that, for Harwich
was close at hand. Now it was Halfden's ship which had done that,
and the fires we saw before the fog came had been the beacons lit
because of his landing.
Then he made a great outcry until he had many folk to listen, and
they paid him well before he would sing. Whereon, forsooth, my ears
tingled, for he sang of the burning of Bosham. And when he came to
the stealing of the bell, his tale was, that it, being hallowed,
would by no means bear that heathen hands should touch it, so that
when it came to the deepest pool in the haven it turned red hot,
and so, burning a great hole through the Danish ship, sank to the
bottom, and the Danes were all drowned. Whereat the people
marvelled, and the gleeman fared well.
I suppose that the flashing of the great bell that I had seen gave
rise to this tale, and that is how men tell it to this day. And I
care not to gainsay them, for it is close enough to the truth, and
few know that I had so nearly a hand in the matter.
So we rode to Thetford, and how we were received there is no need
for me to tell, for I came back as it were from the dead, and
Egfrid after years of absence. And there with Eadmund were my
father and mother, and Eadgyth, and Lodbrok, and Egfrid's folk
also, with many more friends to greet us, and the king would have
us keep Yuletide with him.
It had been in my mind that Halfden would have come to Reedham, and
at first I looked for him, but he had not been heard of, so that
now we knew that we should not see him before springtime came, for
he must needs be wintering somewhere westward. Yet now Lodbrok was
at ease with us, seeing the end of his stay, and being in high
favour with our king, so that he was seldom away from his side in
all the hunting that went on.
That liked not Beorn, the falconer, and though he would be
friendly, to all seeming, with the Dane, it seemed to me that his
first jealousy had grown deeper and taken more hold of him, though
it might only be in a chance look or word that he showed it as days
went on.
But one night my father and I rode in together from our hunting,
and there was no one with us. We had been at Thetford for a month
now, since I came home, and there was a talk that the king would go
to the court of Ethelred at Winchester shortly, taking my father
with him for his counsellor, and so we spoke of that for a while,
and how I must order things at Reedham while he was away.
"Lodbrok, our friend, will go back with you," he said. "Now, have
you noted any envy at the favour in which he is held by Eadmund?"
"Aye, Father," I answered, "from Beorn, the falconer."
"So you, too, have had your eyes open," went on my father; "now I
mistrust that man, for he hates Lodbrok."
"That is saying more than I had thought."
"You have been away, and there is more than you know at the bottom
of the matter. The king offered Lodbrok lands if he would bide with
us and be his man, and these he refused, gently enough, saying that
he had broad lands of his own, and that he would not turn
Christian, as the king wished, for the sake of gain. He would only
leave the worship of his own gods for better reasons. Now Beorn
covets those lands, and has hoped to gain them. Nor does he yet
know that Lodbrok will not take them."
Then I began to see that this matter was deeper than I had thought,
and told my father of the first meeting of Lodbrok and Beorn. But I
said that the falconer had seemed very friendly of late.
"Aye, too friendly," said my father; "it is but a little while
since he held aloof from him, and now he is ever close to Lodbrok
in field and forest. You know how an arrow may seem to glance from
a tree, or how a spear thrust may go wide when the boar is at bay,
and men press round him, or an ill blow may fall when none may know
it but the striker."
"Surely no man would be so base!" I cried.
"Such things have been and may be again. Long have I known Beorn,
and I would not have him for enemy. His ways are not open."
Then I said that if Beorn was ever near Lodbrok, I would be nearer,
and so we left the matter.
There was one other thing, which was more pleasant, which we spoke
about at that time. And it was about the betrothal of my sister
Eadgyth. For it had come to pass that Egfrid, my friend, had sought
her hand, and the match pleased us all. So before the king and my
father went to Winchester there was high feasting, and those two
were pledged one to the other. Then was a new house to be built for
them at Hoxne, where the wedding itself should take place.
"Maybe Halfden will be here by that time," said Lodbrok to me. "I
wish, friend Wulfric, that honest Egfrid had not been so forward,
or that you had another fair sister."
Now though that saying pleased me, I could not wish for the wild
viking as husband to our gentle Eadgyth, though I loved him well as
my own friend. So I said that I thought Halfden's ship was his only
love.
"Maybe," answered the jarl; "but one may never know, and I think it
would be well for English folk and Danish to be knit together more
closely."
But when I asked him why this should be so, he only smiled, and
talked of friendliness between the two peoples, which seemed a
little matter to me at that time.
Now when the time came, my father having gone, we two, Lodbrok and
I, went back to Reedham, while my mother and Eadgyth stayed yet at
Thetford for the sake of Egfrid's new house building, for he would
have it built to suit her who should rule it.
Strange and grievous it was to me to see our shipyard empty, and
sad to have to tell the story of the good ship's loss to those
whose mourning was not yet over. Yet they were sailors' wives and
children, and to them death at sea was honourable, as is to a
warrior's wife that her husband should fall in a ring of foes with
all his wounds in front. And they blamed me not; but rather
rejoiced that I was safe returned.
Now without thought of any foe, or near or far, Lodbrok and I
hunted and hawked over our manors, finding good sport, and in a
little while I forgot all about Beorn, for I had seen him go in the
king's train as they rode out to Winchester.
Out of that carelessness of mine came trouble, the end of which is
hard to see, and heavily, if there is blame to me, have I paid for
it. And I think that I should have better remembered my father's
words, though I had no thought but that danger was far away for the
time.
We hunted one day alone together, and had ridden far across our
nearer lands to find fresh ground, so that we were in the wide
forest country that stretches towards Norwich, on the south of the
Yare. Maybe we were five miles from the old castle at Caistor.
There we beat the woods for roebuck, having greyhounds and hawks
with us, but no attendants, as it happened, and for a time we found
nothing, not being far from the road that leads to the great city
from the south.
Then we came to a thicket where the deer were likely to harbour,
and we went, one on either side of it, so that we could not see one
another, and little by little separated. Then I started a roe, and
after it went my hounds, and I with them, winding my horn to call
Lodbrok to me, for they went away from him.
My hounds took the roe, after a long chase, and I was at work upon
it, when that white hound that I had given to Lodbrok came leaping
towards me, and taking no heed of the other hounds, or of the dead
deer, fawned upon me, marking my green coat with bloodstains from
its paws.
I was angry, and rated the hound, and it fled away swiftly as it
came, only to return, whining and running to and fro as though to
draw me after it. Then I thought that Lodbrok had also slain a
deer, starting one from the same thicket, which was likely enough,
and that this dog, being but young, would have me come and see it.
All the while the hound kept going and coming, being very uneasy,
and I rated it again.
Then it came across me that I had not heard Lodbrok's horn, and
that surely the dog would not so soon have left his quarry. And at
that I hasted and hung the deer on a branch, and, mounting my
horse, rode after the hound, which at once ran straight before me,
going to where I thought Lodbrok would be.
When I came round the spur of wood that had first parted us I was
frightened, for Lodbrok's horse ran there loose, snorting as if in
terror of somewhat that I could not see, and I caught him and rode
on.
When I could see a furlong before me, into a little hollow of the
land that is there, before me was a man, dressed like myself in
green, and he was dragging the body of another man towards a
thicket; and as I saw this my horses started from a pool of blood
in which lay a broken arrow shaft.
At that I shouted and spurred swiftly towards those two--letting
the other horse go free--with I know not what wild thoughts in my
mind.
And when I came near I knew that the living man was Beorn, and that
the dead was Lodbrok my friend.
Then I took my horn and wound it loud and long, charging down upon
that traitor with drawn sword, for I had left my hunting spear with
the slain deer. He dropped his burden, and drew his sword also,
turning on me. And I saw that the blade was red.
Then I made no more delay, but leapt from my horse and fell upon
him to avenge myself for the death of him whom I loved. Would that
I had had the axe whose use he who lay there had taught me so well,
for then the matter would have been ended at one blow. But now we
were evenly matched, and without a word we knew that this fight
must be to the death, and our swords crossed, and blow and parry
came quickly.
Then I heard shouts, and the noise of men running behind me, and
Beorn cried:
"Stay us not, I avenge me of my friend," whereon I ground my teeth
and pressed on him yet more fiercely, wounding him a little in the
shoulder; and he cried out for help--for the men who came were
close on us--and the well-cast noose of a rope fell over my
shoulders, and I was jerked away from him well-nigh choked.
Two men ran past me and took Beorn, throwing up his sword with
their quarterstaves, and it seemed to me that it was done over
gently. Then they bound us both and set us on the ground face to
face.
"Now here be fine doings!" said a man, who seemed to be the leader
of the six or seven who had ended the fight.
"Aye, 'tis murder," said another, looking from Beorn to me and then
to Beorn again; "but which is murderer and which true man?"
Now all these men were strangers to me, but I knew one thing about
them from their dress. They were the men of mighty Earl Ulfkytel
himself, and seemed to be foresters, and honest men enough by their
faces.
"I am Wulfric, son of Elfric of Reedham," I said. "The slain man is
Lodbrok, the Danish jarl, and this man slew him."
"He lies!" cried Beorn. "It was he who slew him, and I would
revenge myself on him, for this Lodbrok was my friend."
Now I held my peace, keeping back my wrath as well as I might, for
I began to see that Beorn had some deep plot on hand, thus to
behave as if innocent.
"Why, so he cried out as we came," said one of the men when he
heard Beorn's words.
"Maybe both had a hand in it," the leader said, and so they talked
for a little.
Then came two of my own serfs, who had followed me to see the
sport, I suppose, at a distance, as idle men will sometimes, when
hunting is on hand, and with them came Lodbrok's dog, the same that
had brought me. And when the dog saw Beorn he flew at him and would
have mauled him sorely, but that the earl's men beat him off with
their staves; and one took the leash that hung from my saddle bow
and tied him to a tree, where he sat growling and making as though
he would again fly at the falconer.
"Whose dog is this?" asked the leader.
"His," answered the serfs, pointing to Lodbrok.
"Dogs might tell strange tales could they talk," said the earl's
man; "I misdoubt both these men. Let us take them to the earl for
judgment."
"Where is the earl?" I asked.
"At Caistor," answered the man shortly, and I was glad that he was
so near, for the matter would be quickly settled and I could go
free.
"Unbind me, and I will go where you will," I said, but at that
Beorn cried out.
"Loose him not, loose him not, I pray you!"
"Tie their hands behind them and let us be gone," was the answer,
and they did so, loosing my feet, and setting us on my horse and
Lodbrok's. And some of the men stayed behind with my serfs to make
a litter on which to carry my friend's body, and follow us to
Caistor. So as I went I cried quickly to those two men of mine that
they should go in all haste to Reedham and tell what had befallen
me to our steward, who would know what to do.
"Reedham is too far for a rescue to reach you in time," said the
leader of the earl's men grimly; "think not of it."
"I meant not that, but to have witnesses to speak for me."
"That is fair," said the man, after a little thought, "we will not
hinder their going."
Then they led us away, and presently reached that place where I had
seen the broken arrow, and one picked it up, saying that here was
surely the place where the deed was done, and that the arrow would
maybe prove somewhat. And I think that here Beorn had shot the
jarl, for all around those other marks on the grass were the
hoofmarks of the rearing and frightened horse, and there were many
places where an archer might lie unseen in the thickets, after
following us all day maybe, as Beorn must have done, thus to find
fitting chance for his plan when we two were far apart. And surely,
had it not been for the dog, I think the fate of Lodbrok would have
been unknown for many a long day, for but for him Beorn would have
hidden his deed and ridden off before I had known aught.
Now, as the man handled the broken arrow, walking beside me, I saw
it plainly, and knew it for one of my own, and one of four that I
had lost at Thetford, though I did not know how.
At that I seemed to see all the plot, and my heart sank within me,
for this Beorn was most crafty, and had planned well to throw doubt
on me if things by ill chance fell out as they had, and so I rode
in silence wondering what help should come, and whence. And I
thought of Halfden, and what he should think when he heard the tale
that was likely to be told him, and even as I thought this there
was a rushing of light wings, and Lodbrok's gray falcon--which I
had cast from my wrist as I fell on Beorn--came back to me, and
perched on my saddle, for my hands were bound behind me. She had
become unhooded in some way.
Then Beorn cried out to the men to take the falcon, for it was his,
and that he would not have her lost; and that angered me so that I
cried out on him, giving him the lie, and he turned pale as if I
were free and could smite him. Whereon the men bade us roughly to
hold our peace, and the leader whistled to the falcon and held out
his hand to take her. But she struck at him and soared away, and I
watched her go towards Reedham, and was glad she did so with a sort
of dull gladness.
For I would have no man pass through a time of thoughts such as
mine were as they took me to Caistor--rage and grief and fear of
shame all at once, and one chasing the other through my mind till I
knew not where I was, and would start as from a troubled dream when
one spoke, and then go back to the same again as will a sick man.
But by the time we reached Caistor I had, as it seemed to me,
thought every thought that might be possible, and one thing only
was plain and clear. I would ask for judgment by Eadmund the King,
and if that might not be, then for trial by battle, which the earl
would surely grant. And yet I hoped that Beorn's plot was not so
crafty but that it would fail in some way.
So they put me in a strong cell in the old castle, leading Beorn to
another, and there left me. The darkness came, and they brought me
food, so I ate and drank, being very hungry and weary; and that
done, my thoughts passed from me, for I slept heavily, worn out
both in body and mind.