It must not be supposed that the gifts of Carl the Great were
given, and his greetings spoken, offhand, as it were, by us. There
must needs be a gathering of the Witan of the East Anglians, that
all might be done with full honour both to Carl and his embassy. I
must say that it somewhat irked me to be treated with much
ceremony, as a Frank and paladin of the great king, instead of
being hailed in all good fellowship as a thane of England, who was
glad to get home again. However, there was no help for it till our
errand was done; for it was out of his goodness that Carl had given
me a place among his messengers, saying that they must have some
one of their number who could act as interpreter, and I would not
be ungrateful even in seeming.
So I had no chance yet of private speech with Ethelbert, when I
might give the message from Ecgbert; which was indeed the main
reason of my coming here instead of going straight home. That
chance would best be sought when the state business was done; for
since no man in all England rightly knew where Ecgbert was at this
time, and he had no mind that many should, my business would wait
well enough. So I bent myself to enjoy the feasting and the hunting
parties the court made for us all; and pleasant it was, in all
truth. And every day fresh companies of the great folk of the land
came in, till the town was full of thanes and ladies and their
trains, gathered to see and hear what had come from beyond the
seas.
So one day I rode with Werbode, who was all eagerness to see the
land (to which his forbears would not come when Hengist asked them,
by the way, as he told me) across the great heaths that lie north
and east of Thetford, with Erling after us, leading two greyhounds
which had been lent us from the royal kennels. There were bustards
in droves on these heaths, and roe deer to be found easily enough
by those who had skill to seek them in the right places. The
bustards were nesting; but that is the time when one can best
course the great birds, and many a good gallop we had after them.
Whereby we lost ourselves presently, and made light of it until we
had wandered for some hours, and then remembered that we had never
seen a man of whom to ask the way back to the town. Of course we
tried to make our way back by the sun, but ever there would seem to
grow up a thicket or wood before us, which we must skirt, or some
marshy lake shone across our path in a hollow of the heath; and it
was slow work, and the horses grew weary as ourselves. The hounds
trailed after us with bent heads, hardly rousing themselves to tug
at the long leash when a hare scudded from its form away from us,
for they had had their fill of sport by that time. And it grew near
sunset before we met with any trace of man. There was not even a
track across the wild upland which we could follow.
"We shall have to make a night out of it," said I at last.
"However, that will not matter. Here is game enough for us and to
spare."
"And no ale to wash it down withal," said Werbode and Erling in a
breath.
"Why, then, we will find the best water we can," I answered; and we
rode on our way looking for a clear pool.
And then the first sound which told us that any one was near came
to us.
There rose from off to our left, where a patch of woodland lay, a
cry that made each one of us rein in his horse and stare at the
others.
"That was some one in dire distress," said I.
"A woman crying for help," said Werbode.
Then we forgot our own plight, and set spurs to our horses and rode
toward the place whence the cry came. We heard it once more, and
that quickened us. My horse pricked up his ears, and broke into a
long stride that left the other two behind in a few minutes, as if
he knew that there was need for dire haste. I had to ride
carefully, too, for there were holes and great stones among the
heather.
So I was the first to see what was amiss; and it seemed bad enough.
Round the spur of the cover I came, and there before me I saw a
wild throng of men, savage as any I have ever seen in the mines of
our Mendips--bareheaded save for great shocks of black hair,
barefooted and hoseless, dressed in untanned hides of deer and
sheep, and armed with uncouth clubs and spears on rough ash poles.
They did not hear my coming, and they had their faces from me at
first. Twenty or more of them there were; and two horses rolled on
the ground hard by them, and they had been hamstrung, as one glance
told me. One man, too, in the dress of a housecarl, lay not far
off, wounded sorely. He saw me, and beckoned wildly to me. And next
I knew why, for out of the throng came three men dragging a lady
roughly away from the rest; and as their comrades parted to let
them pass, I saw another man on the ground, and with his back to a
third a gray-haired noble, who held back the wild men with long
sweeps of his sword. He was trying to follow those who held the
lady.
I saw all that at once, in a flash, for it broke on my eyes the
moment I cleared the thickets of the cover; and as I saw I shouted
and bore down on the throng, calling to my comrades to hasten. Then
the men knew that I was on them.
They yelled to one another, and, without waiting to see if more
followed me, left the lady and the men who fought for her, and
scattered, flying. It seemed to me that the best thing I could do
was to keep them in a mind to fly, and I rode after them. One or
two I rode down; and I heard a wild outcry as some met Werbode and
Erling when they came up. But they did not make for the wood, as I
expected, but for the open heath. They ran like deer up the swell
of a rising ground and passed over it.
When I came to the top of that I saw a wide stretch of bare land
before me, like miles of that which we had passed, hardly
heather-covered, and stony, and over it fled the men. There was no
place where they could hide. And yet before my very eyes they
vanished. One after another they went till but one was left, still
flying. I took my eyes from him for a moment, and he too was gone.
There was not so much as a bustard on the heath, which a moment
before had been full of fleeting figures.
"They are trolls, thane!" cried Erling from beside me.
He, too, had seen the moorland and the men who had gone. Then
Werbode rode up to me, and he looked and gasped.
"They went over this hill! I would swear it!" he said. "Where are
they?"
"I do not know," I answered blankly, and, to tell the truth, with a
bit of a chill down my back. "I should be better pleased if I did."
"See," said Erling, pointing, "there are the mounds wherein they
live. They are trolls;" and with that he began to mutter I know not
what heathen spells against them.
There were little low mounds everywhere, as I saw now.
"Trolls!" said Werbode, with a laugh. "One can't slay trolls. I saw
Wilfrid cut one down, and there he lies even yet."
"Nay, but one can, if so be the sword is rightly charmed," answered
Erling.
"Well, they have gone," said I. "Do you two go and see after these
folk they were attacking, and I will bide here to watch that they
do not come back."
"That is the work of the man, not the master," quoth Erling. "Here
I bide, for I have runes which are of power against any trolls. I
am not afraid."
Nor did he seem so; and I told him to call if but one man showed
himself, and so rode back to the little party we had saved. The man
who I had seen was of rank was bending over the lady, who lay where
the wild men had left her; and his unhurt servant was watching
beside him. The wounded man was sitting up and trying to bind a
hurt in his thigh with a scarf, which, from its gold fringes, was
plainly that of his mistress.
The thane rose up when he heard us coming, and saluted us. He was a
handsome man of sixty years or so, richly dressed, who had plainly
had a bad fall when his horse went down. There were three or four
of his assailants lying where they had been round him as I came.
"Many thanks, sirs," he said. "It was going hard with us when you
came up. Now is no time for ceremony, or I would say more. I do not
know if my daughter lives yet."
I dismounted, and Werbode held my horse while I went to the side of
the thane and looked at his charge. Wonderfully beautiful that
young maiden seemed in the red light of the sunset, even though her
face was white and her fair hair all tangled over her shoulders,
and her rich dress all in tatters from the hands of the wild men.
And at first I thought that she was dead. Then I minded that unless
she had died of fright, which was possible, I had seen no harm done
her beyond rough handling, while those who held her had fled from
me without delay or heed to how she fell from their hands; and I
knelt and tried to find the pulse in her wrist, very gently.
Her white hand fell limp and cold, but the fluttering beat was
there.
"Not dead, thane, but fainting," I said. "Let your man get water;
there is a pool yonder."
The housecarl started toward it, but as he passed one of the
helpless horses, he turned to that and brought me a horn from the
saddlebags. It had wine in it, and that was better. The old thane
tried to get some of it into the lips of the lady, and succeeded
while I rubbed her hands.
And all the while Werbode had his eyes on Erling, whose gaunt form
was clear against the sky as he sat still on his horse and watched
the heath for the trolls to return on us. Behind him the two hounds
sat, careless.
"She is coming round," said the thane, with a sigh of relief.
Seeing that so she was, I rose up and stood aside, not caring to be
right before her eyes as she opened them, lest she should be
frightened again. Slowly she came to herself, trembling, and
looking round fearful of what she might find about her. But when
she saw only her father and the man, she tried to smile and sat up,
with a little clutch at her disordered dress as if she wanted to
straighten it.
"That is better," said the thane heartily. "Those thieves have
fled, and all will be well, thanks to our good friends here."
The maiden looked round, and saw that I was a stranger, and at that
the colour came back of a sudden to her cheeks, and she tried to
set her hair hastily out of her eyes. Whereat her father laughed at
her, and then she was herself again.
"I think we had better be going on before it grows dark," I said.
"Do you know the road to Thetford?"
"My man here does. But you will not leave us--at least yet?"
"We are seeking the same road," I answered. "Now our horses are at
the service of the lady and yourself. I suppose we are not far from
the town, if we cannot find it;" and I laughed.
"Matter of ten or twelve miles, lord," said the housecarl.
"Why, then, the sooner we go the better. Lucky that the May
twilight is long."
"We have met you in the nick of time," said the old thane
courteously. "From your dress I take it that you are one of the
Frankish paladins we were on the way to see. But do they always
talk good Wessex at the court of King Carl?"
"No," laughed Werbode. "Sometimes they talk old Saxon--as I do."
The thane bowed, and let that matter rest. Then he looked ruefully
at the two crippled horses, and set his arm round the lady, who had
risen and was leaning on him.
"I thank you for that offer of a horse," he said. "I had twelve
good men with me when we started across this moor, and you see all
who are left. One after another they have been shot by unseen men
as we rode, until these swarmed out on us as you saw."
"Who are they?" I asked, rolling up my cloak to set it pillion-wise
behind my saddle for the lady.
"The flintknappers, I suppose," he said. "But I am a stranger to
these parts, and I have but heard of them as dwelling about these
heaths."
Then I would have the thane mount my horse; and I lifted the maiden
up behind him, and wrapped Werbode's cloak round her, having a
smile and thanks for the service. And when they were ready I
whistled for Erling, and he came back to us at a canter, looking
behind him now and then. But there was no sign of any follower.
"Ten miles from the town," I said to him, "and more heath to cross.
We must hurry. But we cannot leave those horses to suffer."
"Our horses; and I have tended them, lord," said the rough
housecarl, with a bit of a shake in his voice. "Leave that to me."
He drew his seax, and we went on. The poor beasts could never rise
again, and that was the only way. The thane knew, and rode round
the wood end, and we went with him. Then Erling lifted the wounded
man on his own horse, and walked beside him.
"You and I will ride in turn," said Werbode. "As I am mounted, I
will take first turn for a mile or two. It will be all the same in
the end."
Presently Erling came alongside me, leaving the housecarl to mind
his comrade. He held out a broken arrow to me.
"I said they were trolls," he remarked. "See, this is an elf shot."
And truly the arrow which he had drawn from one of the horses had
as well wrought a flint head as I have ever seen--lustrous black,
and covered with tiny chippings.
"It is a better made head than usual," I said; "but many a thrall
has naught but flint-headed arrows in his quiver as he tends the
swine in the forest. They are good enough against the forest
beasts."
Erling laughed. "Maybe. But they have slain ten of this party. I
have no mind to hear them whistling about my ears again."
"Again?" said I.
"Oh ay; they had a shot or two at me yonder. The arrows came from
nowhere and missed me, so it did not seem worth while to call you.
I could not see any one."
Now it seemed to me that I had found a cool and valiant man in this
Dane.
"I think that I should have wanted to take cover," I said. "These
are perilous folk to have to do with. I wonder what became of
them?"
"Gone into the mounds we saw," said he. "Betimes in our land men
have seen such mounds raised, as it were, on pillars at night, and
under them halls full of dancing trolls. But if the seer will go
near them, all is gone. And mostly thereafter he dies."
"Not many trolls could get under those mounds we saw," I said.
"See, there are more here; they are too small for dwellings."
There was indeed one of the heaps of earth close at hand to us, and
Werbode rode toward it to see that none of the wild men lurked in
its shelter. He reached it, and then his horse started and leaped
aside, almost falling; and through a rattle of falling stones my
comrade called to the steed to "hold up."
Whereon we supposed, of course, that he had been served as the
horses of the thane had been crippled, and Erling and I ran to him,
sword in hand, bidding the others go on. But when we came to the
side of Werbode, we found him staring into a pit which seemed to
have opened under the weight of his horse; and there was no sign of
other danger.
"Strange folk these," he said. "I suppose this is a trap. The
ground over it was as solid as anywhere, to all seeming. I was nigh
into it."
The pit was ten feet deep or so, and it was plain that out of it
had come what made the mound, though one could not see how. When I
looked in I saw that the ground had given way over the roof of a
passage hewn in the soft chalk, and that the opening of it must
have fallen in long ago. The twisted stems of the sparse heather on
the mound and all around it told of years, if not of long ages,
that had passed undisturbed.
"There is the trolls' house," said Erling, shrinking back somewhat.
The level sunlight showed me walls of dull gray chalk, with the
marks of the pick on them still. There was a layer of black and
white flints bedded in either wall, halfway up, and on the floor
were piled stones chosen from it carefully. I wondered who had
handled them, and when. Erling moved a little aside, and a shaft of
sunlight darted down the passage and reached its end, and showed me
those who had wrought here.
Two white skeletons sat against the wall, with a pile of flints
between them. There was a lamp hewn from chalk on the top of that,
and the stain of its smoky flame was on the wall behind it. One man
had a pick made of the brow tine of an antler, greater than any
which the red deer carry nowadays, across his knees, and another
like pick lay by the bones of the other skeleton. That one had a
broken thigh, and he seemed to bend over it in pain.
"Holy saints," said Werbode, in a whisper, "they were buried
alive!"
So they must have been; but who shall know when? They had delved in
the chalk for the flints they needed for their weapons, and their
mine had fallen in at the mouth, and they could not escape. The
stones had, doubtless, broken the leg of that one in falling. But
by the token of the deer-horn pick I take it that it was ages ago
when this happened, maybe before the days of the Welshmen whom we
found here. Yet even then, as the red sun lit up the place of their
death, we could see that the marks of their chalky hands bided on
the handles of their picks, fresh as if made yesterday.
"Come away," said Erling. "I like it not. This is over troll-like
for me."
I do not think that either of us was sorry to leave that sight. We
went one on either side of Werbode, with our arms across the
crupper of his horse, and hastened after the thane and his charge,
who were half a mile away by this time, waiting for us. But we
never heard any elvish arrow whistling after us, or saw any more of
the uncouth folk.
I told him as we went on of the pit we had seen, and how Werbode
thought it was a trap. Whereon the housecarl laughed a little, and
said that it was but an ancient flint working. The men who had
fallen on the party were the descendants of those who had made it.
The flints had been worked here from time untold even till now, and
those who worked them today had all the craft of their forebears.
"Why, then, they went into their workings when they fled from us,"
I said.
"No doubt, thane. Where else should they go?" he said. "They came
out of them on us."
"I wonder you brought your master and the lady across this heath at
all," I said "it is a perilous place."
"It grew late, and it is the nearest way," said the man humbly.
"Nor did I ever hear that the flintknappers, as we call them,
harmed any."
"Nor did I," said the old thane. "It is somewhat fresh to me. Maybe
parties like ours have passed here so often during this last week
that at last the sight of gold and jewels has roused them to try to
take from a weak band."
So we talked and went on as fast as we might, all the while keeping
a lookout around us. The lady had, in some way which is beyond me
altogether, set herself in such array again that I, for one, could
hardly tell that aught had been awry on her; and I wondered that
Werbode's red cloak had never seemed so graceful a garment on his
broad shoulders. But she said little or nothing, leaning her head
on her father as she rode with her arm round him, save when we
asked her if all was well. I think she was very tired.
And so at last, with no more adventure, we came to the well-worn
track which we were making for, and by-and-by, in the May
moonlight, saw the twinkling lights of Thetford town, seeming to
welcome us into the shelter of its protecting ramparts. I was glad
to see them; but I had enjoyed that long tramp back, for some
reason which was not plain to me, unless it had been the talk of
the old thane and my comrades, and the sense of escape from danger.
Now we came to the great hall, and the grooms thronged round us to
take the horses; and seeing that there was a lady, one told the
steward, and he bustled out to help her. But there I was at hand,
and lifted the maiden from the horse and set her on her feet,
having to support her for a moment, for she was weary and stiff. So
she stumbled a little and laughed at herself, and thanked me, and
was glad of my arm to help her toward the great door of the hall.
Werbode and Erling went off with the horses to the stables, and
some of the housecarls took charge of the wounded man. I heard him
groan heavily as they took him from the horse.
Then the thane gave his name to the steward, and that was the first
time I had learned it.
"Sighard, thane of Mundesley, and his daughter, the Lady Hilda."
They were led into the hall; and I went my way, or was going, for I
had only passed down the steps, when some one called me.
"Paladin, one moment!"
I turned, for the Frankish title could be meant for no one but
myself, and there was the old thane at the door.
"I did but take my daughter into the house, and I have yet to thank
you and your comrades for your help. Believe me, I know how great
it has been; but one is confused at these times. I think we shall
meet again?"
"Doubtless," I said. "But it was chance which brought us to you, as
we wandered."
"For which chance I have need to be thankful. It is not every one,
however, who can make use of a chance as you did. If you had stood
and stared for a moment instead of spurring your horse, I should
have had a flint spear among my ribs. They ache at the thought
thereof even now. Tell me your names at least."
"Wilfrid, son of the thane of Frome, in Somerset," I said. "I have
served with King Carl for some years, and am here with his messages
on my way home. My comrade is Werbode of old Saxony, one of the
messengers also. The third of us is my man, a Dane."
Sighard laughed, as if highly amused. "That explains it all. I have
been puzzling all the way hither at the divers ways in which you
three spoke. Your Dane's tongue is almost good Anglian, and yet not
quite. Werbode's Saxon is quaint, but good enough, as it should be;
but broad Wessex from the mouth of a seeming Frank was too much.
Not the best master in the world could compass it for you. Now I am
right glad that you are of England. When she has got over her
fright and is rested, the girl shall thank you also."
He shook hands with me heartily and left me, following his
daughter. Presently I saw him as we sat at table, and he lifted his
cup to me; but though he was on the high place, where of course we
were set, I was too far off to speak to him.
Now I cannot say that I had much right to that title of paladin he
had given me, unless it was as a messenger from the palace of King
Carl. Thane I was in Wessex, now that I had come of age, by right
of lands that came to me from my mother's side; but our folk got
hold of the Frankish title, and used it for any one of us, so that
I had to accept it. I did tell the old noble who led us that it was
not by my wish that so they called me; but he stroked his beard and
laughed at me.
"What does it matter?" he said; "it is naught but the old name for
a palace officer. It is near enough. Trouble not about it; for if
we have taken it to mean a warrior noble--well, I will not say that
you have not deserved it, else Carl had never sent you with us."
One may guess that at supper that night I tried to see the Lady
Hilda. But among all the bright array of ladies at that feast I
could not spy her. And perhaps that is not to be wondered at, for
long ere we came up all the baggage had been lost. By this time her
court dress was being worn by swart women of the flint folk, far on
the wild heaths. I dare say they fought over it.