It was indeed Thorleif whom I saw as the deadly faintness of utter
weariness and want of food came over me, and I sank. The Danes had
hardly lost sight of me from the ships, for they had drifted
backward and forward on the tide as I drifted, and I was never more
than a mile from them. Until the tide turned to the eastward there
had been no wind of any use to them, and that which came with
sunset was barely enough to give them steerage way. So they had
watched me for want of somewhat else to do, being worn out with the
long fight; and when I was far off, some keen-sighted seaman would
spy my head as it rose on a wave, and cry that the Saxon was yet
swimming.
Now, if there is one thing that the northern folk of our kin think
much of in the way of sports, it is swimming, and it seems that I
won high praise from all. Maybe they did not consider how a man who
is trying to win his home again from captivity is likely to do more
than his best. At all events, I had never so much as tried a swim
like that before, nor do I think that I could compass it again.
Presently, when the turn of the tide brought with it no eddy into
the bay which set me homeward, Thorleif would let me go no longer,
and followed me in the boat with two men; which was easy enough,
for I swam between the ship and the place where the red glow of
burning Weymouth still shone in the northern sky. He could not
leave me to drown.
For a time, in the growing dusk, he could not find me. Then the sea
fires showed me black against their glow, and the sea tempted him,
and he leaped in after me, singing to cheer me, for it was plain
that I was nearly spent. When he brought me up from the depth again
I had little of the drowned man about me, for I had fainted. I
remember coming round painfully after that swoon, and eating and
drinking, and straightway falling into a dreamless sleep on the
deck of the ship; and I also remember the untoldly evil and fishy
smell of the seal oil they had rubbed me with.
When I came to myself, my first thought was that a solid wall of
that smell stood round me; but such were the virtues of the oil and
the rubbing that when I woke after eighteen hours' sleep I was not
so much as stiff. It would ill beseem me to complain thereof,
therefore, but it might have been fresher.
When I woke from my great sleep it was long past noon. I lay in the
shelter of the gunwales under the curve of the high stern post,
wrapped in a yellow Irish cloak, and in my ears roared and surged a
deep-voiced song, which kept time with the steady roll of oars and
the thrashing of the water under their blades. The ship was
quivering in every timber with the pull of them, and I could feel
her leap to every stroke. The great red and white sail was set
also, and the westerly breeze was humming in it, and over the high
bows the spray arched and fell without ceasing as oar and sail
drove the sharp stem through the seas. Thorleif was in a hurry for
some reason.
Only one man was on the after deck, steering, and he was fully
armed. Save that his brown arm swayed a little, resting on the
carven tiller, as the waves lifted the steering oar with a creak
now and then, he was motionless, looking steadily ahead under the
arch of the foot of the sail. The run of the deck set me higher
than him, and I could not see more than the feet of some men who
were clustered on the fore deck. But I could look all down the
length of the ship, and there every man was armed, even the rowers.
They had hung red and yellow wooden shields all along the gunwales,
raising the bulwark against sea and arrow flight alike by a foot
and more, and the rowers were fairly in shelter under them, if
there was to be a broadside attack.
I never doubted that a fight was intended, though I could not tell
why. Every man was at his post--two to each oar bench beside the
rower, one with ready shield, and the other with bent bow, and
these were looking forward also as they sang that hoarse song which
had roused me. I do not know that I have ever heard aught so
terrible as that. The wildness and savageness of it bides with me,
and of a night when the wind blows round the roof I wake and think
I hear it again. But it set me longing for battle, even here on the
strange deck, and I would that I might join in it.
And then I knew that my own weapons lay beside me, and I sprang up,
and grasped the sword and seax in haste to buckle them on. They
rattled, and the steersman turned his head and laughed at me. It
was old Thrond.
"That is right, lad," he said, turning his head back to watch his
course again. "None the worse for the wetting, it seems."
Truth to tell, I felt little of it, being altogether myself again
after the rest. So I laughed also, setting aside for the moment the
question of what my fate was to be. It was plain that the man who
saved me from the sea and gave me back my arms did not mean to make
a captive of me in any hard sort.
"Only mightily hungry," I said. "It seems that I have slept
heavily."
Thrond jerked his free thumb toward a pitcher and wooden bowl that
were set near me, without looking round.
"So I suppose," he said. "Eat well, and then we will see what sort
of a viking you make. You have half an hour or so."
Ale and beef there were, ready for me, and I took them and sat down
at the feet of the old chief, with my legs hanging over the edge of
the fore deck. Thence I could see that Thorleif was forward, and
that away to the northward of us a ship was heading across our
course, under sail only. The two other Danish ships were far astern
of us, but their oars were flashing in the sun as they made after
us.
Then I looked northward for England, but there was only the sea's
rim, and over that a bank of white summer clouds. Under the sun, to
the south, was a long blue line of hills whose shapes were strange
to me, and that was the Frankish shore. We were far across the
Channel, and still heading eastward.
"Thrond," I said, "are you after that ship yonder?"
"Ay. She will be a Frankish trader going home, and worth
overhauling. Maybe there will be no fight, however; but one never
knows."
Now it was in my mind to ask him what would be done with me, but I
did not. That was perhaps a matter which must be settled hereafter,
and not on the eve of a fight at sea. Moreover, I thought that a
Frankish ship was fair game for any one, and that if I were needed
there was no reason at all why I should not take a hand in the
fight. Certainly I should fare no worse for taking my plight in the
best way I could. So I held my tongue and went on eating.
One or two of the men looked up from the oars and grinned at me,
and of these one had a black eye, being the man I had knocked off
the deck. It was plain that he bore no malice, so I smiled back at
him, and lifted the jug of ale toward him as I drank. He was a
pleasant-looking man enough, now that the savagery of battle had
passed from him.
Now I would have it remembered that a Saxon lad reared on the west
Welsh marches is not apt to think much of a cattle raid and the
fighting that ends it, and that with these Danes, who were so like
ourselves, we had as yet no enmity. It seemed to me that being in
strange company I must even fit myself to it, and all was wonderful
to me in the sight of the splendid ship and her well-armed,
well-ordered crew. Maybe, had we not been speeding to a fight the
like of which I had never so much as heard of, I should have
thought of home and the fears of those who would hear that I was
gone; but as things were, how could I think of aught but what was
on hand?
We were nearing the vessel fast, and seeing that she did not turn
her head and fly, old Thrond growled that there was some fight in
her.
"Unless," he added with a hard chuckle, "they have never so much as
heard of a viking. Are there pirates in this sea, lad?"
"They say that the seamen from the southern lands are, betimes. I
have heard of ships taken by swarthy men thence. The Cornish tin
merchants tell the tales of them."
"Tin?" said Thrond. "Now I would that we had heard thereof before.
I reckon we passed some booty westward. Eh, well, we shall know
better next time."
After that he was silent, watching the ship ahead. She was a great
heavy trader, with higher sides than this swift longship.
And presently, as I watched her, a thought came to me, and I was
ashamed that I had not asked before if it was true that my cousin
had not been hurt in the fighting.
"He was not harmed," answered the old chief. "He hurt us; he is a
good fighter. Get yon shield and hold it ready to cover me. It is
not worth while to have the helmsman shot, and it will set a man
free to fight forward."
Now the ship was within arrow shot, and we could see that there
were few men on her decks. Thorleif hailed her to heave to, sending
an arrow on her deck by way of hint. Whereon she shot up into the
wind, and her sail rattled down. Thrond whistled to himself.
"Empty as a dry walnut shell, or I am mistaken," he said between
his teeth.
Then he shouted to Thorleif, and some order came back. The sail was
lowered, and the ship swung alongside the stranger under oars only,
while a rush of men came aft. Thorleif hailed the other ship to
send him a line from the bows, and one flew on board us as we shot
past. Then in a few moments we were under easy sail again, towing
the great trader slowly after us; and the men were grumbling at the
ease of the capture, thinking, with Thrond, that it boded a useless
chase. Thorleif came aft to speak with the shipmaster from our
stern.
Then there climbed on the bows of the trader a tall, handsome young
man, at the sight of whom I could not withhold a cry of wonder, for
I knew him well. He was Ecgbert the atheling, nephew of our great
king Ina, and the one man whom Bertric feared as a rival when he
came to the throne. His father and mine had been close friends, and
we two had played and hunted together many a time, until the
jealousy of Bertric drove him to seek refuge with Offa of Mercia. I
thought him there yet.
"Yield yourselves," said Thorleif, "and we will speak in peace of
ransom. I will come on board with a score of men, and harm none."
"We have yielded, seeing that there was no other chance for as,"
said Ecgbert quietly. "Come on board if you will, but on my word it
is hardly worth your while. We left in too great a hurry to bring
much with us."
"Whence are you, then, and whither bound?"
"From Mercia, by way of Southampton, and bound anywhere out of the
way of Quendritha the queen. We had a mind to go to Carl the king,
but any port in a storm!"
"Well," said Thorleif, laughing, "I am coming on board. That must
be a terrible dame of whom you speak, if she has set the fear of
death on a warrior such as you seem to be."
Then he bade the men haul on the cable, and the ships drew together
slowly. I had to leave the deck, being in the way of the men, and
Ecgbert did not see me, as far as I could tell.
Thorleif and his men boarded the prize over her bows and went aft,
Ecgbert going with them. The two ships drifted apart again, and I
found my place by Thrond once more, while the men sat on the
gunwale, waiting for the time when their chief should return.
"Who is the queen yon Saxon speaks of?" asked Thrond.
I told him; and as we had heard much of her of late, I also told
him how men said that she had been found on the shore by the king
himself. Whereon Thrond's grave face grew yet more grave, and he
said:
"Lad, is that a true tale?"
"My father had it from the thane who was with the king when they
found her alone in her boat."
"So her name was not Quendritha when she began that voyage?"
"I have heard that she was a heathen. Mayhap the king gave her the
name when she was christened. It means 'the might of the king.'"
So I suppose that he did, for the hope of what his wife should be.
Nor was the name ill chosen, as it turned out, for all men knew by
this time that the queen was the wisest adviser in all the council
of Mercia in aught to do with the greatness of the kingdom.
"I have ever had it in my mind that she would get through that
voyage in safety," Thrond said. "Ran would not have her."
"What do you mean?"
"Lad, I saw her start thereon, or so I think. Tell me when she was
found."
That I could do, within a very short time. My father and Offa had
been wedded in the same year, as I had heard him say but a few days
ago, at Winchester, as men talked of the bride whom we had
welcomed, Quendritha's daughter. And as he heard, Thrond's face
grew very dark.
"That is she. Now I will tell you the beginning of that voyage. I
was a courtman then to the father of Thorleif, our jarl here, and I
myself made the boat ready and launched her in it."
And then he told me that which I have set down at the beginning of
this tale--neither more nor less. What was the fullness of the evil
the woman had wrought he did not tell me, and I am glad.
When he ended he sat silent and brooding for a long time. The ship
forged slowly and uneasily over the waves with the heavy trader
after her, and on our decks the men were silent, waiting for word
from Thorleif of what was to be done. We could hear him, now and
then, laughing with the crew of the other ship as if all went
easily.
"Lad," said old Thrond, suddenly turning to me, "you had best
forget all this. It is dangerous to know aught of the secrets of
great folk; and if it comes to the ears of Quendritha that one is
telling such a tale of her, the life of the man who has told it
will not be worth much. Maybe I am wrong, and I speak of one who is
drowned long since; for, indeed, it seems out of the way of chance
that a girl could win across the sea from Denmark to a throne thus.
And if it is true, she has done even as Thorleif's father bade her,
and has left her ways of ill.
"And, yet," he said again, "if ever you have to do with her,
remember what she may have been. It will be ill to offend her, or
to cross her in aught."
"That is the hardest saying that our folk have of her," I said,
"but I have heard it many a time."
"There is much in that saying," Thrond answered grimly.
"Well," I answered shortly, "I suppose that if any man will set
himself against a king or a queen, he has to take the chances."
"Small chance for such an one if the queen be--well, such another
as I helped to set adrift from our shore."
Meaningly that was said, and I had no answer. I was glad that
Thorleif showed himself on the bows of the prize and hailed Thrond.
"Send the Saxon lad on board here," he said; "we have met with a
friend of his."
That could be none but the atheling, and I leaped up. The men were
heaving on the tow line, and the ships were slowly nearing each
other.
"Thrond," I said breathlessly, "will Thorleif let me go?"
"Of course," he answered, smiling. "We only picked you up again to
save your life. He had a mind to land you on the English shore
presently; for he said you had kept faith with us well, and he
could not let you suffer therefor."
The bows of the trader grated against our stern, and one of the men
gave me a hoist over her gunwale with such good will that I landed
sprawling among the coils of rope on the fore deck. When I gathered
myself up I saw Ecgbert and Thorleif aft, while the Danes were
rummaging the ship, and I made my way to them. And as I came the
atheling stared at me, and then hastened forward with outstretched
hand of welcome.
"Why, Wilfrid, old comrade, how come you here? I heard only of a
West Saxon, and whether this is luck for you or not I do not know."
"Good luck enough, I think," I answered, with a great hand grip. "I
had not yet let myself wonder how long it would be before I saw
home again."
His face fell, and he looked doubtfully at me.
"I cannot take you home, Wilfrid; I am flying thence myself. The
Danish chief will set you ashore somewhere at his first chance, he
says."
"Why, what is amiss again?"
"The old jealousy, I suppose," he answered grimly. "As if a lad
like myself was likely to try to overturn a throne! Here had I
hardly settled down in Mercia as a fighter of the Welsh and
hanger-on of Offa's court, when there come Bertric's messengers,
asking that I should be given up, and backing the demand with a
request for closer alliance by marriage. Offa, being an honest man,
was for sending the message back unanswered. But the queen had a
mind for the match, and as I was in the way, it was plain to me
that I must be out of it. So I did not wait for Quendritha to
remove me, but removed myself."
"Alone?" I asked.
"Alone, and that hastily. You do not know the lady of Mercia, or
you would not ask."
Now I thought to myself that in the last half hour I had learned
more of that lady than even Ecgbert knew, and I felt that he was
wise in time, if Thrond's tale was true; which, indeed, I began to
believe. But it did not seem right to me that an atheling of Wessex
should be alone, without so much as a housecarl to tend him and
stand at his back at need. I minded what my father taught me since
I could learn.
"Here is your duty, son Wilfrid. First to God; then to the king;
then to the atheling, the king's son, and then to father and
mother; then to the shire reeve and the ealdorman, if so be that
they are loyal; and then to helpless woman and friendless poor man.
But to the weak first of all, against whomsoever will wrong them,
whether it be the king or myself."
"Where will you go, atheling?" I asked, speaking low, for I had
many things warring in my mind.
"I cannot tell yet. I am an outcast."
Then I knelt on the deck before him and made him take my hands
between his own, and I said to him, while he tried to prevent me:
"Whither you go I follow, to be your man in good or ill. Little use
I am, but some I may be; and at least the atheling of Wessex shall
not say that none would follow him."
"Wilfrid," he cried, "I cannot suffer you to leave all for me."
Then said Thorleif, who had been watching us in silence:
"Take him, prince, for you will need him. He has kept faith with
us, though he might have escaped easily enough, because he thought
his word withheld him. And he has proved himself a man in battle
with the waters, as I know well. Let him go with you, and be glad
of him."
"I am loath to take him from his folk to share my misfortunes."
"That is naught," said Thorleif. "Pay a trader who is going to
England to tell other chapmen to pass the word to his folk where he
is. They will hear in a month or less."
"Hearken to the chief, my prince," I said. "That is easy, and it
will be all I care for. If my father hears that I am with you, he
will be well content."
"More than content, Wilfrid," said Ecgbert, smiling. "We of the
line of Ina know your folk of old. Well, be it as you will, for, on
my word, I am lonely; and I think, comrade, that if I had choice of
one to stand by me, the choice would have fallen on you.
"There was little need, chief, for you to tell me that Wilfrid of
Frome was steadfast. We are old friends."
"Bide so, then. Friends are not easily made," answered Thorleif,
laughing. "Now tell me what you are thinking of doing. Maybe I can
advise you, being an adventurer by choice, as it seems you must be
by need. But first I will offer you both a share in our cruise, if
you will turn viking and go the way of Hengist and Horsa, your
forbears. Atheling and thane's son you will be to us still, if you
have to take an oar now and then."
"Kindly spoken," said Ecgbert; "but this I will tell you plainly.
It had not come into my mind to think that Bertric needed to fear
me until he showed that he did so. Had he left me to myself, I had
been as good a subject of Wessex as Wilfrid here. But now it seems
to me that maybe he has some good reason to think that the throne
might be or should have been mine. Wherefore it is in my mind to
seek the great King Carl, and learn what I can of his way of
warfare, that presently, when the time comes, I may be the more
ready to take that throne and hold it."
"Why, then," said Thorleif, watching the face of the atheling, "I
will tell you this from out of my own knowledge of Wessex. If you
learn what Carl can teach you, you will, if you can raise a
thousand followers, walk through Wessex into Mercia, and thence
home by East Anglia to London town, and there sit with three crowns
on your head--the greatest king that has been in England yet. For
your folk know no more of fighting, though they are brave enough,
than a herd of cattle. But it will be many a long year before you
know enough, and then you will need to be able to use your
knowledge."
"Can you tell me where to find Carl the king? It may be that I have
years enough before me to learn much."
"Those who want to learn do learn," quoth Thorleif. "It is in my
mind that, unless a Flemish arrow ends you, Wessex will have to
choose between you and Bertric presently."
Then he told us where he had last heard of the Frankish king, which
was somewhere on the eastern Rhine border. And at last, being taken
with the fearless way of the young atheling, said that if he would,
he himself would see him as far on his way as the Rhine mouth. And
in the end Ecgbert closed with the offer, and left the Frankish
ship accordingly.
Thorleif's men had sought every corner of her by that time, and had
some store of silver money to show for their long chase, and were
satisfied. As for the shipmen of their prize, I think they were
well enough content to be let go in peace, and had little to say on
the matter. Ecgbert was for giving them the gold ring which he had
promised them as passage money, that being the only thing of value
he had beyond his weapons; but Thorleif would not suffer him to do
so, saying that his Danes would but take it from them straightway.
So the great trader lumbered off southward, and I and the atheling
sat with Thrond and Thorleif, and told and heard all the story of
the raid on Weymouth until the stars came out. And I was well
content; for no Saxon can ask aught better than to serve his lord,
whether in wealth or distress.
Now I might make a long story of that voyage with Thorleif, for
there were landings such as had been made at Weymouth, and once
just such another fight. And ever the lands where we touched grew
more strange to me, until we came to the low shores of the Rhine
mouths, hardly showing above the gray waves of the sea which washed
their sad-coloured sand dunes. And there Thorleif landed us at a
fishing village, among whose huts rose the walls of a building
which promised us shelter at least.
Terribly frightened were the poor folk at our coming, but they took
us, with the guard Thorleif sent ashore with us, to the building,
and it turned out to be a monastery, where we were most welcome.
And there we bid farewell to the Danes, not without regret, for we
had been good comrades on the voyage. There was a great difference
between these crews of men from one village under their own chief,
and the terrible swarms of men, gathered none knows whence, and
with little heed to their leaders save in battle, which came in
after years. We saw the Dane at his best.
Now after that the good abbot of the place passed us on from town
to town until at last we came to Herulstad, where Carl the mighty
lay with his army, still watching and fighting the heathen Saxons
of the Rhinelands. And there Ecgbert was welcomed in all
friendliness, and our wanderings were at an end. Even the arm of
Quendritha could not reach the atheling here, though Carl and Offa
were friendly, and messengers came and went between the two courts
from time to time.
In that way I had messages sent home at last, and my mind was at
rest. It was, however, nearly a year before my folk heard of me, as
I learned afterward. But close on five years of warfare lay before
me ere I should set foot on English ground again.