At this time, when I take up my story again, I was two and twenty,
not very tall indeed, but square in the shoulder, and well able to
hold my own, at the least, with the athelings who were my comrades,
at the weapon play or any of our sports. It would have been my own
fault if I were not so, for there was no better warrior in all
Ina's following than Owen, and he taught me all I knew. And that
knowledge I had tested on the field more than once, for Ina had no
less trouble with his neighbours than any other king in England,
whether in matters of raiding to be stopped or tribute to be
enforced. Since I was too old to serve the queen as page any longer
I had been of his bodyguard, and where he went was not always the
safest place on a field for us who shielded him.
A court is always changing, as men come and go again to their own
places after some little service there, but Owen and I were of
those to whom the court was home altogether. Owen was the king's
marshal now, and I was in command of the house-carles, and had been
so for a year or more. It was no very heavy post, nor responsible
after all, for Ina's guard was the love of his people, and beyond
these warriors from the freemen who served as palace guard and
watch, were the athelings of the household, from whose number I had
been chosen for this post by right of longest service more than for
any other reason, as I think. I knew all the ins and outs of every
house where Ina went, and had nothing fresh to learn in the matter.
Still, if the men under me were few, the post had its own
privileges, and was always held to lead to somewhat higher, and I
was more than content therewith, for it kept me near Owen and the
king, whom I loved next to my foster father.
I do not think that by this time any one knew, save the king, that
I was not Owen's own son. I was wont to call him father always, and
I cannot be blamed, for he was foster father and godfather to me,
and well did he take the father's place to the orphan whom he had
saved. And I had forgotten Eastdean, save as one keeps a memory of
the home where one was a child. I never thought of it as a place
that should have been mine, for neither the king nor Owen ever
spoke to me concerning it. Sometimes, in remembrances of my father,
I would wonder into whose hands the manors had passed, but rather
in hopes that some day those who owned them now would suffer me to
see that the grave where he lay was honoured, rather than as a
matter which at all concerned me in any closer way.
For, since I was but a child, the court had been my home, with Owen
as my father, and Ina the king as the loved guardian for whom I
would gladly give my life in need. All my training and thoughts
were centred here, not as what one calls a courtier at all, but as
one of the household who feared the king and queen no more than
Owen himself, and yet reverenced all three as those to whom all
homage was due since he could remember.
Thus things were with us at the end of the tenth year after we left
Aldhelm at Malmesbury, and now the court was at Glastonbury in fair
Somerset, keeping the Christmastide there in the place that is the
holiest in all England by reason of the coming thither of Joseph of
Arimathea, and the first preaching of the Gospel in our land by
him. It was not by any means the first time I had been in the
place, and here I had some good friends indeed; for Ina loved the
vale of Avalon well, and often came hither with a few of us, or
with the whole court, to the house which he had made that he might
watch the building of the wondrous church which he was raising over
the very spot where the little chapel of the saint had been in the
old days.
Fair is the place indeed, for it lies deep among green hills, and
from the westward slope where the church stands, at their foot
stretch great meres to lesser hills toward the sunset beyond. Very
pleasant are the trees and flowers of the rich meadows of the
island valley, and the wind comes but gently here even at Yuletide,
hardly ruffling the clear waters that have given the place its
name, "Inys Vitryn," and "Avalon" men called the place before we
Saxons came, by reason of those still meres and the wondrous
orchards which fear no frost among the hills that shelter them. The
summer seems to linger here after it has fled from the uplands.
There was a goodly company gathered in Ina's hall for the twelfth
night feasting. Truly, the hall was not so great as that in the
palace at Winchester, but it was all the brighter for that reason.
It was hard to get that great space well lighted and warmed at
times, when the wind blew cold under eaves and through narrow
windows; but here all was well lit and comfortable to look on and
to feel also, as one sat and feasted with the sweet sedges of the
mere banks deep under foot on the floor and the great fire in the
hall centre near enough to every one. I think that this hall in
Glastonbury was as pleasant as any that I know in all Wessex.
There was a great door midway in the southern side of the hall, and
as one entered, to right and left along that wall ran the tables
for the house-carles and other men of the lower ranks, and for
strangers who might come in to share the king's hospitality and had
no right to a higher place. Then at either end of the hall were
cross tables, where the thanes and their ladies had their places in
due order, above the franklins whose cross tables were next to
those of the house-carles. And then, right over against the south
wall and across the fire on the hearth, was the longest table of
all, and in the midst of that was the high place for the king and
queen and a few others. That dais was the only place where the
guests did not sit on both sides of the tables, for the king's
board stood open to the midst of the hall on its three low steps
that he might see and be seen by all his guests, and be fitly
served from in front.
On the hearth a great yule log burnt brightly, and all round the
wall were set torches in their sconces, so that the hall was very
bright. On the walls were the costly hangings that we took
everywhere with us, and above them shone the spare arms and helms
and shields of the house-carles, mixed with heads of boar and stag
and wolf from the Mendips and Quantocks where Ina hunted, each head
with its story. Up and down in the spaces between the tables
hurried the servants who tended the guests, so that the hall was
full of life and brightness from end to end. There was peace in all
Wessex at this time, and so here was a full gathering of guests to
the little town.
Ina and Ethelburga the queen were on the high place, and to their
left was Herewald, the Somerset ealdorman, who lived in
Glastonbury, and was a good friend of mine, as will be seen, with
his fair daughter Elfrida, and on the right of the king was Nunna,
his cousin, and his wife. Owen was next to Herewald, at one end of
the high place, and at the other end was Sigebald, the Dorset
ealdorman, under whom I had fought not so long ago. There were many
others of high rank in the west to the right and left of these
again at the long tables.
Indeed, there was but one whom I missed in all the gathering. My
old friend Aldhelm was gone. He died in the last year, after having
been Bishop of Sherborne for a little while. I missed him sorely,
as did every man who knew him.
I do not think that if one searched all England through there could
have been found a more noble looking group than that at Ina's high
table. It is well known that our king and queen were beyond all
others for royalty of look and ways, and I will venture to say that
neither of the ealdormen had their equals, save in Nunna, anywhere.
But it is not my word only, for it was a common saying, that Owen
seemed most royal next to the king himself. Grave he always was,
but with a ready smile and pleasant, in the right place, and though
he was now about five-and-forty he had changed little to my eyes
from what he was twelve years ago, when he saved me from the
wolves. He was one of those men who age but slowly.
One other on the high place I have not mentioned in this way. That
was Elfrida, the Somerset ealdorman's daughter, of whom it was said
that she was the fairest maiden in all Wessex. Certainly at this
time I for one would have agreed in that saying. She was two years
younger than I, if I dare say it, and it seemed to me that in the
last three years she had suddenly grown from the child that I used
to play with to a very stately lady, well fitted to take the place
of her mother, who used to be kind to me when I first came here as
the queen's somewhat mischievous page, and had but died a year or
so ago. I think that this feast was the first Elfrida and her
father had been present at since then, and at least, that was the
reason I heard given for her presence on the high place.
Now I must say where my place was in the hall, for it may make more
plain what happened hereafter. The young nobles of the court who
had no relatives present sat at one of the cross tables at the
king's right hand, and at the head of these tables was my seat by
reason of my post as captain of the house-carles. So I sat with my
back to the long chief table, with its occupants just behind me,
and to my left was the open space in the centre of the hall, so
that if I was needed, or had to go out for the change of guard or
other house-carle business, all that I had to do, being at one end
of the bench, was to get up and go my way without disturbing any
one. At the same time I could see all the hall before me, and a
half turn of the head would set my eyes on the king himself.
The door of the hall was closed when the king entered from his own
chambers and took his place, so that the cold, and the draughts,
which might eddy the smoke of fire and torches about the guests too
much, was kept out. But it was closed against weather only, for any
man might crave admittance to the king's ball at the great feast,
whether as wayfarer or messenger or suppliant, so that he had good
reason for asking hospitality. Several men had come in thus as the
feast went on, but none heeded the little bustle their coming made,
nor so much as turned to see where they were set at the lower
tables, except myself and perhaps Owen. There was merriment enough
in the hall, and room and plenty for all comers, even as Ina loved
to have it.
Now there is no need to tell aught of that feast, until the meat
was done and the tables were cleared for the most pleasant part of
the evening, when the servants, whether men or women, sat down at
their tables also, and the harp went round, with the cups, and men
sang in turn or told tales, each as he was best able to amuse the
rest. There was a little bustle while this clearance went on, and
men changed their seats to be nearer friends and the like, for the
careful state of the beginning of the feast was over in some
degree; but at last all was ready, and the great door, which had
been open for a few minutes as the servants took out into the
courtyard the great cauldrons and spits, was closed, and then there
fell a silence, for we waited for a custom of the king's.
Here at Ina's court we kept up the old custom of drinking the first
cup with all solemnity, and making some vows thereover. This cup
was, of course, to be drunk by the host, and after him by any whom
he would name, or would take a vow on him. In the old heathen days
this cup was called the "Bragi bowl," and the vows were made in the
names of the Asir, and mostly ended in fighting before the year was
over. We kept the old name yet, but now the vows were made in the
name of all the Saints, and if Ina or any other made one it was
sure to be of such sort that it would lead to some worthy deed
before long, wrought in all Christian wise. Maybe the last of the
old pattern of vow was made when Kentwine our king swore to clear
the Welsh from the Parrett River to the sea, and did it.
So when the time came we sat waiting, each with his horn or cup
before him, brimming with ale or cider or mead, as he chose, and
men turned in their seats that they might see the pleasant little
ceremony at the high place the better. As for me, I just turned in
my bench end so that my feet were clear of the table, on which my
arm and cup rested, and faced right down the hall, with, of course,
no one at all between me and the steps of the high place. For now
all had taken their seats except one cup bearer, who waited at the
lowest step with the king's golden cup in one hand, and in the
other a silver flagon of good Welsh wine to fill it withal. One
would say that this was but a matter of chance, but as it happened
presently it was well that I moved.
Now, in the hush was a little talk and laughter among those who
were nearest the king, and then I saw the queen smile and speak to
Elfrida, who blushed and looked well pleased, and then rose and
came daintily round the end of the king's board. There a thane who
sat at the table at the foot of the steps rose and handed her down
them to where the servant waited. Ina had asked her to hand him the
cup after the old fashion, she being the lady of the chief house in
Glastonbury next his own. There she took the cup from the man's
hand, and held it while he filled it heedfully. A little murmur
that was all of praise went round the hall, and her colour rose
again as she heard it, for it was not to be mistaken, and from the
lower tables the voices were outspoken enough in all honesty.
Then she went up the steps holding the cup, and the king smiled on
her as she came, and so she stood on the dais before the table and
held out the wine, and begged the king to drink the "Bragi bowl"
from her hands in her father's town.
The king bowed and smiled again, and rose up to take the cup from
this fair bearer, and at that moment there was a sort of scuffle,
unseemly enough, at the lower end of the hall near the door, and
gruff voices seemed to be hushed as Ina glanced up with the cup yet
untouched by his hand.
Then a man leapt from the hands of some who tried to hold him back,
and he strode across the hall past the fire and to the very foot of
the high place--as rough and unkempt a figure as ever begged for
food at a king's table, unarmed, and a thrall to all seeming. And
as he came he cried:
"Justice, Ina the king!--Justice!"
At that I and my men, who had sprung to our feet to hinder him, sat
down again, for a suppliant none of us might hinder at any time. I
did not remember seeing this man come in, but that was the business
of the hall steward, unless there was trouble that needed the
house-carles.
Ina frowned at this unmannerly coming at first, but his brow
cleared as he heard the cry of the man. He signed to Elfrida to
wait for a moment, and looked kindly at the thrall before him.
"Justice, Lord," the man said again.
"Justice you shall have, my poor churl," answered the king gently.
"But this is not quite the time to go into the matter. Sit you down
again, and presently you shall tell all to Owen the marshal, and
thus it will come to me, and you shall see me again in the
morning."
"Nay, but I will have justice here and now," the man said doggedly,
and yet with some sort of appeal in his voice.
"Is it so pressing? Well, then, speak on. Maybe the vow that I
shall make will be to see you righted."
And so the king sat down again, and the lady Elfrida waited,
resting one hand on the table at the end of the dais farthest from
me, and holding the golden cup yet in the other.
"What shall be done to the man who slays my brother?" the thrall
cried.
And the king answered:
"If he has slain him by craft, he shall die; but if in fair fight
and for what men deem reason, then he shall pay the full weregild
that is due according to my dooms."
Then said the man, and his voice minded me of Owen's in some way:
"But and if he slew him openly in cold blood, for no wrong done to
himself?"
"A strange doing," said the king--"but he should die therefor."
The king leant forward, with his elbow on the table to hear the
better, and the man was close to the lowest step to be near him. It
seemed that he was very wroth, for his right hand clutched the
front of his rough jerkin fiercely, and his voice was harsh and
shaking.
"It is your own word, Ina of Wessex, that the man who has slain my
brother in this wise shall die. Lo, you! I am Morgan of
Dyvnaint--and thus--"
There flashed from under the jerkin a long knife in the man's hand,
and at the king he leapt up the low steps. But two of us had seen
what was coming, and even as the brave maiden on his left dashed
the full cup of wine in the man's face, blinding him, I was on him,
so that the wine covered him and my tunic at once. I had him by the
neck, and he gripped the table, and his knife flashed back at me
wildly once, but I jerked him round and hurled him from the dais
with a mighty crash, and so followed him and held him pinioned,
while the cups and platters of the overturned table rolled and
clattered round us.
Then rose uproar enough, and the hall was full of flashing swords.
I mind that I heard the leathern peace thongs of one snap as the
thane who tried to draw it tugged at the hilt, forgetting them.
Soon I was in the midst of a half ring of men as I held the man
close to the great fire on the hearth with his face downward and
his right arm doubled under him. He never stirred, and I thought he
waited for me to loose my hold on him.
Then came the steady voice of Ina:
"Let none go forth from the hall. To your seats, my friends, for
there can be no more danger; and let the house-carles see to the
man."
Two of my men took charge of my captive, even as he lay, and I
stood up. Owen was close to me.
"The man is dead," he said in a strange voice.
"I doubt it," I answered, looking at him quickly, for the voice
startled me. Then I saw that my foster father's face was white and
drawn as with some trouble, and he was gazing in a still way at the
man whom the warriors yet held on the floor.
"His foot has been in the fire since you hove him there, yet he has
not stirred," he said.
Then I minded that I had indeed smelt the sharp smell of burning
leather, and had not heeded it. So I told the two men to draw the
thrall away and turn him over. As they did so we knew that he was
indeed dead, for the long knife was deep in his side, driven home
as he fell on it. And I saw that in the hilt of it was a wonderful
purple jewel set in gold. It was not the weapon of a thrall.
That Ina saw also, and he came down from the high place, and stood
and looked in the face of this one who would have slain him,
fixedly for a minute.
Then he said, speaking to Owen in a low voice:
"Justice has been done, as it seems to me. Justice from a higher
hand than mine, moreover."
Then he went back to his place, and standing there said in the dead
hush that was on us all:
"It would seem that this man thought that he had somewhat against
me, indeed, but I do not know him, or who his brother may have
been. Nor have I slain any man save in open field of battle at any
time, as all men know, save and except that I may be said to have
done so by the arm of the law. Yet even so, our Wessex dooms are
not such as take life but for the most plain cause, and that seldom
as may be. Is there any one here who has knowledge of this man who
calls himself Morgan of Dyvnaint? It seems to me that I have heard
the name before."
Now Owen had gone back to his place, and while one or two thanes
came forward and looked in the face of the man, whom they had not
yet seen plainly, he spoke to the king, and Ina seemed to wonder at
what he heard.
Then Herewald the ealdorman said:
"That is the name of one of the two Devon princes of the West
Welsh, cousins of Gerent the king. We have trouble with their men,
who raid our homesteads now and then."
At that a big man with a yellow moustache and long curling hair
rose from among the franklins and said loudly, in a voice which was
neither like that of a Briton nor a Saxon at all:
"Let me get a nearer look at him, and I will soon tell you if he is
what he claimed to be."
And with no more ceremony he came to where I and the two
house-carles yet stood, and looked and laughed a little to himself
as he did so.
"He is Morgan the prince, right enough," he said. "And I can tell
you all the trouble. Your sheriff hung his brother, Dewi, three
months since for cattle lifting and herdsman slaying on this side
Parrett River, somewhere by Puriton, where no Welshman should be. I
helped hunt the knaves at the time. The sheriff took him for a
common outlaw like his comrades, and it was in my mind that there
would be trouble. So I told the sheriff, and he said that if the
king himself got mixed up with outlaws and cattle thieves he must
even take his chance with the rest. And thereon I said--"
"Thanks, friend," said Ina. "The rest shall be for tomorrow. Bide
here tonight, that you may tell all at the morning."
The man made a courtly bow enough, and went back to his seat, and
then Ina bade Owen see to his lodgment, and after that the thralls
carried out the body. I went quietly and walked along the lower
tables, bidding my men see if more Welshmen were present, but
finding none, and then I found the hall steward wringing his hands,
with an ashy face, at the far end of the hall.
"Master Oswald," he said, almost weeping, "how that man came in
here I do not know. I saw him not until he rose up. None seem to
have seen him enter, but men have so shifted their places that it
seemed not strange to any near him that they had not seen him
before."
"Had you seen him you could not have turned him away," I said. "He
came as a suppliant, and the king's word is strict concerning such
at these times. Good Saxon enough he spoke, too, in the way of many
of our half Welsh border thralls. I do not think that you will be
blamed. Most likely he slipped in as the tables were cleared just
now. There was coming and going enough, and we have many strangers
here.
"Who is the yellow-haired man?"
"A chapman from the town. Some shipmaster whom the ealdorman
knows."
Now, after I was back in my place and the bustle was ended, there
fell an uneasy silence, for men knew not if the feast was to go on.
Many of the ladies had gone, with the queen, and Elfrida was there
no longer. But Ina stood up with a fresh cup in his hand, and he
smiled and said, while the eyes of all were on him:
"Friends, we have seen a strange thing, but you have also seen the
deeds of a brave maiden and a ready warrior to whom I am beholden
for my life, as is plain enough. Yet we will not let the wild ways
of our western neighbours mar the keeping of our holy tide. Maybe
there is more to be learnt of the matter, but if so that can rest.
Think now only of these two brave ones, I pray you, for I have yet
the Bragi bowl to drink, and it is not hard to say whom I should
pledge therein."
Then he looked round for Elfrida, not having noticed that she had
gone with the queen.
"Why," he said, "it was in my mind to pledge the lady first, but I
fear she has been fain to leave us. So I do not think that I can do
better than pledge both my helpers together, and then Oswald can
answer for the lady and himself at once."
He rose and held the cup high, and I rose also, not quite sure if I
were myself or some one else, with all the hall looking at me.
"Drinc hael to the lady Elfrida, bravest and fairest in all the
land of Somerset!" he cried. "Drinc hael, Oswald the king's
thane--thane by right of ready and brave service just rendered!"
Then he drank with his eyes on me, and there went up a sort of
cheer at his words, for men love to see any service rewarded on the
spot if it may be so. Now I was at a loss what to say, and the lady
should have been here to bring the cup to me in all formality.
Maybe I should have stood there silent and somewhat foolish, but
that the ealdorman, her father, helped me out.
"Come and do homage for the new rank, lad," he said in a low voice.
He was at the lower table near me now, for the high table had been
broken and the king stood alone on the dais.
So I went to the steps, and bent one knee at their top, and kissed
the hand of the king, and then held out the hilt of my sword, that
he might seem to take it and give it me again. But he bade me rise,
and so he took off his own sword, which was a wondrous one, and the
token of the submission of some chief on the Welsh border beyond
Avon, and he girt it on me with his own hands.
"You nigh gave your life for me, my thane," he said. "That man's
knife was perilously near you."
He touched my tunic with his hand, and I looked. Across it where my
heart beat was a long slit that I had not found out yet, where the
knife flew at me. That stroke must have been the man's bane,
because to reach me thus he had thrown his arm across his chest,
and so had fallen on his weapon.
Then I was going, I think, though indeed I hardly know what I did
at that moment, but the king stayed me, laughing.
"Do not think that I am going to let you off the cup, though. Now
you shall pledge me, and if you have any vow to make which is
fitting for a thane, make it and let us all hear it. But you have
also the lady to think of in your words."
Then there was a little rustle at the door which was on the high
place, and the queen returned with some of her ladies, hearing that
all was seemly again, and she stood smiling at these last words.
But Elfrida was not with her, and I was glad, else I had been more
mazed yet. So I plucked up heart and took the cup from the hand of
the king, trying to collect my thoughts into some sort of fitting
words.
"Drinc hael Cyning," I said, while my voice shook. "Here do I vow
before all the Saints and before this company--that I will do my
best to prove myself worthy of this honour that has been set on
me!"
"Why, Oswald," said the queen, "that is no sort of vow such as you
should make, for we know that already, and you have proved it now
if never before. And you have forgotten Elfrida."
Now, I thought to myself that the last thing that I was ever likely
to do was to forget that maiden, and with that a thought came into
my head, and as the queen was smiling at me, and every one was
waiting, I grew desperate, and must needs out with it.
"Now, I cannot do better than this," I said, finding my courage all
of a sudden. "Here do I add to my vow that so long as my life shall
last I will not again forget the Lady Elfrida. Nor will I be
content until I am held worthy by her to--to guard her all the rest
of my days."
With that I drained the cup, and while the thanes laughed and
cheered all round me, and Ina smiled as if well pleased enough, the
queen set her hand on my arm, smiling also, and said:
"That was well said, my thane, but for one turn of the words. Why
did you not tell us plainly that you mean to win her? We all know
what you mean."
Then I went to my place, and I glanced at Herewald, to see how he
would take all this. Somewhat seemed to have amused him mightily,
and his eyes brimmed with a jest as he looked at me. Presently,
when men forgot me in listening to the vow Ina made, that he would
add somewhat to the new Church in thankfulness for this escape, the
ealdorman came near me and whispered:
"You are a cautious youth, Oswald, for I never heard a man turn a
hint from a lady better in my life. Nevertheless, if you are not
careful, Ethelburga will wed you to Elfrida for all your craft."
He laughed again, and said no more. But I was looking at Owen, who
seemed to have some thoughts of his own that were troubling him
sorely. He smiled and nodded, indeed, when he caught my eye, but
then he grew grave again directly, and afterwards his horn stood
before him on the table untasted, and his look seemed far away,
though round him men sang and all was merry.
However, as one may suppose, the merriment was not what it should
have been, and none wondered much when Ina rose and left the table
with a few pleasant parting words. He was never one to bide long at
a feast, and he knew, maybe, that the house-carles and younger men
would be more at ease when his presence was no longer felt by them.
With him went Owen and the ealdorman, and Nunna, at some sign of
his, and after they went I had to stand no little banter concerning
my vow, as may be supposed.
I was not sorry when a page came and bade me join the king in his
own chamber, though it was all good-natured and in no sort of
unkindness. I will not say that I did not enjoy it either. So I
went as I was bidden, and found that some sort of council was being
held, and that those four were looking grave over it. I supposed
they had some errand for me at first, but in no long time I knew
that what was on hand was nought more or less than the beginning of
parting between Owen and me.
I will make little of all that was said, though it was a long
matter, and heavy in the telling, and maybe tangled here and there
to me as I listened. I think that Ina understood that trouble fell
on me as I heard all, for he looked kindly on me from his great
chair, while Nunna sat on the table and was silent, stroking his
beard, as if thinking. But Owen drew me to the settle by him, and
bade me hearken while the king told me the tale I had to learn.
Then I heard how Owen, my foster father, was indeed a prince of the
old Cornish line that came from Arthur, and how his cousins, Morgan
and Dewi, had plotted to oust him from his place at the right hand
of Gerent the king, and had succeeded only too well, so that he had
had to fly. It matters not what their lies concerning him had been,
nor do I think that Owen knew all that had been said against him,
but Gerent had banished him, and so he had wandered to Mercia, and
thence after a year or two to Sussex, having heard of the Irish
monks of the old Western Church at Bosham. So he had met with me,
and thus he and I had come to Ina's court together.
And as I heard all, I knew that it had been for my sake that he was
content to serve as a simple forester at Eastdean, for Ina told me
that across the Severn among the other princes of the old Welsh
lands he would have been more than welcome. I could say nothing,
but I set my hand on his and left it there, and he smiled at me,
and grasped it.
"And now," said Ina, "your hand has in some sort avenged the old
wrong, for you have brought about the end of Morgan, who was Owen's
foe. But this is a matter we need to hear more concerning. Do you
bring us that stranger that he may tell us what he knows."
I went to the hall again, and found him easily enough, for all men
were looking at him. He was in the midst of the hall, juggling in
marvellous wise with a heavy woodman's axe, which he played with as
if it were a straw for lightness. Even as I entered from the door
on the high place he was whirling it for a mighty stroke which
seemed meant to cleave a horn cup which he had set on a stool
before him, and I wondered. But he stayed the stroke as suddenly as
if his great arms had been turned to steel, so that the axe edge
rested on the rim of the vessel without so much as notching it, and
at that all the onlookers cheered him.
"Now it may be known," said he, smiling broadly, "why men call me
Thorgils the axeman."
Then he threw the unhandy weapon into the air whirling, and caught
it as it came to hand again, so that it balanced on his palm, and
so he held it as I went to him, and told him the king would speak
with him.
Whereon he threw the axe at the doorpost, so that it stuck there,
and laughed at the new shout of applause, and so turned down his
sleeves and bade me lead him where I would.
He made a stiff, outlandish salute as he stood before Ina, and the
king returned it.
"I have sent for you now, friend, rather than wait for morning," he
said, "for it seems to me that we have business that must be seen
to with the first light. Will you tell us what you know of this man
who has been slain? I think you are no Welshman of Cornwall."
"I am Thorgils the Norseman of Watchet, king," he answered.
"Thorgils the axeman, men call me, by reason, of some skill with
that weapon which your folk seem to hold in no repute, which is a
pity. Shipmaster am I by trade, and I am here to seek for cargo,
that I may make one more voyage this winter with the more profit,
having to cross to Dyfed, beyond the narrow sea, though it is late
in the year."
"I thought you might be a Dane from Tenby."
"The Welsh folk know the difference between us by this time,"
Thorgils said, with a little laugh. "They call them 'black heathen'
and us 'white heathen,' though I don't know that they love us
better than they do them. By grace of Gerent the king, to be
politic, or by grace of axe play, to speak the truth, we have a
little port of our own here on this side the water, at the end of
the Quantocks, where we seek to bide peaceably with all men as
traders."
"Ay! I have heard of your town," said Ina. "Now, can tell us how
Morgan and his brother came to be in company with outlaws?"
"He fell out with Gerent over us, to begin with. I went with our
chiefs to Exeter when we first came seeking a home, to promise
tribute if we were left in peace in the place we had chosen. Gerent
was willing enough, but Morgan, who claims some sort of right over
the Devon end of the kingdom, was against our biding at all, and
there were words. However, Gerent and we had our way, and so we
thought to hear no more of the matter. But the next thing was that
Morgan gathered a force and tried to turn us out on his own
account, and had the worst of the affair. That angered Gerent, for
he lost some good men outside our stockades. And then other things
cropped up between them. I have heard that the old king found out
old lies told by Morgan concerning Owen the prince, whom men hope
to see again, but I know little of that. Anyway, Morgan and his
brother fled, and this is the end thereof. We heard too that he
plotted to take the throne, and it is likely."
"Thanks, friend," Ina said. "That is a plain tale, and all we need
to know. But what say men of Owen, whom you spoke of? Is it known
that he lives?"
"Oh ay. They say that you know more of him than any one. Men have
seen him here at Glastonbury. Moreover, Gerent came to Norton, just
across the Quantocks, yesterday, and it is thought that he wants to
send a message to you asking after him. There will be joy in West
Wales if he goes back to the right hand of the king, for one would
think that he was a fairy prince by the way he is spoken of."
Thereat Ina smiled at Owen, and Thorgils saw it, and knew what was
meant in a moment. He turned to Owen with a quick look, and said
frankly:
"True enough, Prince, but I did not know that I spoke of a
listener. On my word, if you do go back, you will have hard work to
live up to what is expected of you. Maybe what is more to the point
is this, that Morgan has more friends than enough, and it is likely
that they will stick at little to avenge him.
"Howbeit," he added with a quaint smile, "it shall not be said that
Thorgils missed a chance. Prince, if you do go back to Gerent you
will be his right hand, as they say. Therefore I will ask you at
once to have us Norsemen in favour, so far as we need any. Somewhat
is due to the bearer of tidings, by all custom."
Ina laughed, and even Owen smiled at the ready Norseman, but
Herewald the ealdorman and I wondered at him, for he spoke as to
equals, with no sort of fear of the king on him, which was not
altogether the way of men who stood before Ina.
Then said Owen quietly:
"Friend, I think there is a favour I may ask you, rather. I have
bided away from my uncle, King Gerent, because I would not return
to him unasked, being somewhat proud, maybe. But now it seems to
King Ina and myself that needs must I go to him to take the news of
this death of Morgan myself. It is a matter that might easily turn
to a cause of war between Wessex and West Wales, for if the man
tried to slay our king in his own court, it may also be told that
here was slain a prince of Dyvnaint. There is full need that the
truth should reach the king before rumour makes the matter over
great. You have seen all, and are known to the Welsh court as a
friend. Come with me, therefore, tomorrow and tell the tale."
"That I will, Prince," Thorgils said. "You will be welcome; but as
I warn you, there will be need for care."
"You know somewhat of the ways of the Welsh court," said Ina.
"Needs must, Lord King. I am a shipmaster, and every trader I carry
across the sea, sometimes to South Wales, and sometimes to Bristol,
and betimes so far as to Ireland, tells me all he has learned. It
were churlish not to listen, and then we need warning against such
attacks as that of Morgan. Moreover, one likes somewhat to talk
of."
"That is plain enough," said Nunna, laughing.
"Maybe I do talk too much," answered the Norseman. "It is a failing
in my family. But my sister is worse than I."
Then the king laughed again, and so dismissed the shipman, and
presently Owen bade me make all preparation for riding to Norton on
the morrow early. Ina would have us take a strong guard, and I
should bring them back, either with or without Owen, as things
went.
But little sleep had I that night, for I knew too well that from
henceforth my life and that of my foster father must lie apart, and
how far sundered we might be I could not tell. There was no love of
the Saxon in West Wales, nor of the Welshman in Wessex.