_Of the Gleeman who visited the Danish Camp_
Now, when the King left the neatherd's cottage he went back with Osric
and Wulnoth to his old hiding-place at Athelney, for this was safe now,
seeing that the Danes, having searched there, and having burnt the
huts, were not likely to visit it again.
And here the three tarried, and talked of all that had happened, and
received messages from one thane and another, telling of the number of
men which he could bring.
And urgent were the prayers sent to Alfred that he would at once put
himself at the head of the forces and give battle to the foe. But to
these prayers the King replied that they must remain patient a little
longer.
"O King, why dost thou delay?" cried Osric in wonder. "Did I not know
thy hero soul, I should think 't was because thou wast afraid." And at
that saying the King smiled, and made reply.
"And didst thou say so, O Osric, thou wouldst be telling but the simple
truth," he said. And Osric stared and said--
"Read me thy rede, O King, for of a truth I cannot understand thy
meaning; only this I know, that fear and Alfred were ever strangers."
"Yet I fear, my friend," the King answered, "for of a truth this cast
has all our fortunes thrown with it; and if we fail now, we fail for
good; therefore I fear to make the attempt before being certain of how
best to succeed."
"A quick blow and a bold one, is ever my way," said Wulnoth. And the
King shook his head.
"A good way, Wanderer, provided that thou knowest where to hit;
otherwise thou mayest but smite the air, and be smitten thyself in
turn, ere thou canst draw back for defence."
"What is thy counsel, O King?" asked Osric, "for what thou dost rede,
that is certain to have wisdom in it."
"Now, Osric," answered the King, "but now thou didst say that didst
thou not know me, thou wouldst have thought me a nithing; I say that
did I not know thee, I should deem thee but a flatterer. Yet so far as
my wisdom goes, thou shalt have it. These Danes have tarried here long,
but here they will not surely stop, seeing that it is but a barren spot
and they think that I have left it. Now, 't is my wish to find out, if
possible, whither they intend to journey, or whether they will still
remain nigh the place; then shall we know best where to collect our
forces, and when to strike the hardest and the surest."
"But how can this information be obtained, O King? Dost thou know any
of their number whom thou canst buy?"
"Nay," answered King Alfred, "I know none, and if I did, I would not
make the attempt to bargain with them; for I hold it a disgraceful
thing to try to make a man turn traitor; or to have dealings with one
vile enough to be one. Moreover, to deal with such a one is dangerous;
for the man who will betray his chief may well be expected to betray
those who trust him."
"A wise word, King; but still, if we deal not with a traitor, I see no
way of obtaining the knowledge which we desire."
"I have a way, O my friend, if it may be put into practice; and
methinks it can. Rest but a short time, and I will put it to the test."
So spake the King, and with that the two warriors were contented, for
they knew that Alfred never used vain or empty words; and so they
waited patiently, until it should please him to take them into his
confidence.
Now as they sat at the fire talking, they heard the sound of a harp;
and looking up, they beheld a wandering gleeman standing before them
with a poor and broken harp; and he struck the chords and sang, and his
voice was faint and weak; yet he sang a good song of England in the
days when the Danes had not come to it, and he sang of the good days
that should come, when once again the land should be free; and Osric
said when the song was done--
"A good song, friend, and well sung; yet methinks thou must be foolish
to come and sing to us who are here, when we cannot reward you with
even a meal such as a man might not be ashamed to offer to another."
"I sing to those whom I sing to," said the gleeman. "Shall I sing you
another song?" and Wulnoth nodded--
"Ay, for even a song may drive away gloom, friend," he said. "Sing, if
thou wilt sing without hope of reward."
"Nay, then I cannot sing, for I look for great reward," was the answer
he received. "But I know that I shall obtain that reward, so now listen
to my song."
Then he struck the harp again, and he sang, and Wulnoth opened his
mouth in surprise, for the song was of him, and his love for Edgiva,
and his finding of the Lord; and the Wanderer started up when the music
ceased, and he cried--
"By that Lord Whom thou hast said that I serve, thou knowest far too
much, my friend; for there are but two who knew of this, and one is by
my side."
"And the other stands before thee, Wanderer," came the voice of the
King. And at that the two started up bewildered--
"Alfred!" they cried. And the gleeman answered--
"Even so, my friends. Now, you two tarry here, for I am content. If ye,
who know me well, fail to recognize me, there is little fear that my
foes will do so."
"But where goest thou, O King?" they asked. And he answered that he was
going to the camp of the Danes. But at that the two looked grave, for
of a truth the danger was great, and did the King fail in deceiving
the foe, there would be no more mercy for him than there had been for
Edmund of East Anglia.
But the King laughed away their fears, and made them promise to abide
where they were.
"If messengers come," he said, "receive the messages, and bid them go
back and prepare, and within two weeks shall word come to them. Then,
when once the word comes, they must hasten. They must move so swiftly
that the grass bends not beneath their feet; for then will it be that
we must strike a swift blow at the very heart of our foe."
"You feel that you must do this thing, O King?" asked Osric, and the
King made answer that it must be done.
"By now will they have heard of the destruction of their fleet," he
said, "and that of itself must needs make them come to some speedy
decision; and what the decision is, I must find out."
So they had no more words to say, feeling that much was at stake; and
Alfred, taking his harp, went away and set face boldly towards the
camp of the Danes.
And when he got nigh, he struck his harp and began to sing, and he
sang the song of the bear jarl, whose son was Beorn, and the vikings
gathered round him, for they loved the gleeman's songs.
And Alfred noticed all that could be seen, and how the camp was far
more badly kept than it should have been; for these Danes were so
confident now, that they forgot their caution; and he sang again and
again, and presently a messenger came from Guthrun, asking who it was
that made music in the camp.
Then when the chief was told, he commanded that the gleeman be brought
before him, and made to sing against his singers; and Alfred was taken
to the hall where the holdas sat.
There was Guthrun, as hearty as ever, and there was Hungwar, and he
looked fiercer and wilder than of yore; and Guthrun cried to the
disguised King.
"How now, Saxon, dost value thy life so little, that thou dost come
hither?"
Then Alfred answered, speaking in the tones of an old man--
"Now, chief, that is a poor saying; for of a truth a gleeman knows
no country or race, but sings of the brave wherever he finds them.
Moreover, it is but natural that I should come."
"And wherefore?" demanded the chief.
"First, because I have heard of thy Danish gleemen, and I wish to hear
their cunning playing; and secondly, because, Saxon or Dane, men must
eat; and since thou hast left us little, to whom but thee can we come
for food?"
Then did the Danes laugh loud and long, for it pleased them to hear
this of their doings, seeing that if there was no food in the land,
the people must soon be starved into submission, and Alfred would not
be able to muster any more men; and so they bade the henchmen give the
harper food, and after that they set him to play against their own men.
But Alfred was cunning; and though he was a musician far beyond the
best of the Danes, he let them play the best, lest he make them envious
and so be dismissed.
And that also pleased the holdas; and presently Hungwar bent forward to
him, and cried fiercely--
"Little canst thou play, old man. Thou art not fit to be called a
gleeman beside the singers of Denmark. Now see if thou canst sing a
song of Regner Lodbrok; and if thou canst not, then by Thor thou shalt
sing thine own death-song."
"That is a hard saying to hearten a man for his work, chief," answered
the gleeman, "yet I will try my best."
Then he struck his harp afresh, and he sang the song of Regner Lodbrok
and his slaying of the dragon; and he sang so well that all applauded
him, and some pulled their massive bracelets off and cast them to him
for his reward; and Hungwar himself said that the gleeman might stay
in the camp and sing to the soldiers, seeing that they had little to
occupy their time while they were waiting for news from the laggards
who had sailed with the fleet.
Now that told Alfred that the tidings of the defeat had not yet
arrived, and he was the more anxious to stay there; for he desired to
learn what the chiefs would do when they heard the news.
And into the camp he went with the vikings; and not one there even
dreamed that beneath the ragged clothes and feeble form the King of
Wessex was hidden. And Alfred saw the whole camp, and heard the talk of
the vikings; and sometimes he sat in the lower part of the hall while
the soldiers feasted, and he heard the chiefs talking of their plans.
And the fourth day while he thus sat, there came a horseman, all spent
with his journey and covered with dust; and when he entered the hall,
he cried aloud, without even giving greeting--
"Evil tidings, chiefs, are mine to tell. Evil and black tidings. The
fleet is destroyed, and the warriors are slain, and the banner of
Regner Lodbrok is taken."
Then a great hush fell on all there; and men looked from one to another
in dismay; for worse to them than the loss of the fleet, was the loss
of the banner, which they supposed had been blest by the gods, and
which always led them to victory.
And then did Hungwar start up and cry aloud--
"Now evil was it that I suffered the banner to go with Hubba my
brother; and if he recover it not again, then we twain will have a
word to say and a deed to do together when we meet."
"Speak no evil of Hubba," answered the messenger. "For him the
death-song has been sung; and he died as a hero should die; and also
Biorn Ironside has gone to the storm-land with him."
"Hubba dead and Biorn dead," said Guthrun. "Now truly thy tidings are
heavy."
"Think not of them. Not of the dead, but of the banner, must we think,"
cried Hungwar fiercely. "Blood, and much blood, must flow for this. Who
led the foe, man? Not this King of Wessex, whom we have hunted for, and
who has disappeared as though the earth had swallowed him?"
"Two jarls led the foe," the man answered, "and mighty warriors both.
One Borric, an Ealdorman of the south--"
"Borric shall die," cried Hungwar. "Who the other?"
"A mighty man whom men call the Wanderer. He who once was in thy
service. He struck down thy brother, and he took the banner away."
Then did Hungwar turn pale for the moment, for he thought that this
was the work of the evil spirits helping Wulnoth; and he cried madly,
gnashing his teeth, and clenching his fists--
"Evil, evil, upon him, and evil the day when I saw him before me and
suffered him to live. Guthrun, we must march. We must pursue this man,
and take the banner back. Not a girl in Denmark but would scorn us
for nithings, did we return without it, and without having avenged the
slight done to it."
"In that I am with thee, Hungwar," replied Guthrun. "But march whither?
We must know where the man is before we can pursue him."
"I will burn down every dwelling, I will slay every living soul, till I
find him," answered Hungwar; "and for this Wanderer, no jarl he, but a
thrall; and when I catch him, he shall die the most terrible death that
I can think of."
"Now, not so," said Guthrun firmly. "Thou art angry, Hungwar, and no
wonder, and for that reason thou speakest thus. Be the man jarl or
thrall, he is a hero and a warrior, and must be treated as such. A
hero, be he of the foe even, deserves a hero's death."
"Wait thou and see," answered Hungwar fiercely. "Oh! I would that I
might have him face to face alone! I would repay all then."
"We must send messengers and recall all the bands," Guthrun said. "We
must foray, and secure plenty of provisions. For a week or a fortnight
we must tarry here, and make preparations; and then we will advance,
and put the matter to the test, and everywhere proclaim that until the
banner of Regner is delivered to us again, we will harry the country
far and wide."
At this all the vikings shouted; and drawing their swords waved them
in the air. Yet the spirits of the Danes were cast down, and they were
as men bewildered; and Guthrun himself, when he was alone, sat with
clouded brow, and pondered, and his thoughts were strange thoughts--
For Guthrun had heard the story of the White Christ; and now he
wondered, seeing that Odin's Raven was captured, and Odin had not
smitten the men who had carried it away, whether, after all, the Saxon
God was not stronger than the gods of the Northland.
Guthrun had not forgotten the slaying of Edmund the King, and the
thoughts which that brought to him often troubled him. Presently
Guthrun was to do as Wulnoth had done, and acknowledge that the Lord
was of all lords the chief.
And that night the Saxon gleeman was missing from the camp of the
Danes; and when none could find him, the rumor went abroad that he had
been no gleeman, but a spy amongst them; and that did but trouble them
the more.
And not long afterwards Alfred the King was back with Wulnoth and
Osric, and to them he said--
"Now has the time come, my friends, and the foe are dismayed by reason
of the loss of their ships! Hasten, both, and send others on; and
through the land let the summons go that all who love me, and would
strike for freedom, shall hasten hither without delay. Hasten, for all
now depends upon our being ready to smite our enemy ere they have time
to decide what they will do."
Now, this is how King Alfred spied out the Danish camp, and how he sent
Wulnoth and Osric to summon his forces to his aid.