When Egwina awoke from her sleep, the sun was shining, and she did not
know where she was. She was lying on a tick of straw which seemed to be
moving under her. To her amazement, on sitting up, she found that she
was in a rude cart with two Danish women and some children. As the
memory of the events of the night before rushed upon her mind, she felt
for the jewel of the king. It was gone. A torrent of bitterness gashed
into her soul.
"Where is Gyda?" she demanded of the women fiercely.
"She went with Sigurd the skald we know not whither," answered one of
them. "To thee, maiden, she bade us say that as she had obtained the
jewel, she had kept her word, and sent thee from the hand of Hakon Jarl,
so that thou mightst not have to lead him to thy king. Also she bade us
say to thee that naught else of thine adornment was touched save the
jewel only. Behold the chain which the jarl gave thee; the bracelet, and
thy other ornaments are untouched."
"Tell me where we are and whither we go?" cried the girl eagerly.
"We go into Devonshire to join Hubba, who hath wintered in Demetia, and
now cometh into the land of the Saxon from the west. It draws near the
time for the feast of the spring. Then will the Northman sweep over the
whole of the land, and finish that which he hath so well begun."
Egwina groaned. And none was there to warn the king.
"See," she said to the women taking from her throat the chain which the
jarl had given her; "here is this, and the bracelet also. Both are of
much value. Ye shall have them if ye will let me go from ye unmolested."
The women shook their heads, and the one who had done the speaking spake
again:
"We durst not let thee from us. Of that did the seid woman bid us
beware. Neither doth it lie in our power so to do, for the Northmen are
on every hand. See for thyself."
Egwina looked, and her heart sank as she beheld the long line of
horsemen and men on foot before and behind. Many carts were there filled
with women and children, and the supplies of the Danes. Everything gave
evidence of preparations for a long march. Burying her face in her
hands, Egwina resigned herself to the inevitable.
The march was long and of several days' duration. At last they came to
the extreme western part of Devonshire. Here they were greeted by
another large party of Norsemen under the renowned Hubba, one of the
sons of Ragnar Lodbrock. The Saxons fled in terror at their approach.
Some few, taking their wives and children with them, repaired to the
castle of Kynwith.
The Danes followed after these last rapidly, and, seeing that the castle
was impregnable, would not risk an attack upon it, but sat down before
it in a camp, hoping thus to make the Saxons surrender either from
famine or want of water; for there was no spring near the castle.
Vainly did Egwina seek to join the Saxons in the castle. Her every
movement was watched, and she was forced to abandon the idea. Listlessly
she mingled with them, listening apathetically to their songs. Often did
they try to force her to join in their mirth and gladden their hearts by
music, but she looked at them with unsmiling face and would not sing.
Thus the days passed. The pagans waiting only for the surrender of the
castle which they thought must come soon through the dire necessity of
the Christians.
Early one morning, just as the first faint streaks of dawn were tinting
the sky, Egwina was awakened from slumber by the shouts of men and the
clash of steel. In alarm, the Danes sprang to their arms, but the Saxons
had surprised them too completely for anything but a furious resistance.
From the first they cut down the Northmen in great numbers, for they
were filled with the inspiration of despair, deeming death inevitable
and preferring to fall in battle rather than by starvation.
The trembling maiden prayed fervently in her tent for the success of her
people. While she was thus engaged, the flap was pushed rudely aside,
and two men entered. They seized her before she was aware of their
intention, and dashed out of the tent and into the thick of the fray
where Hubba their king was.
"Take this for thy shield, Hubba," cried one, thrusting the maiden
before the Danish king.
"If, then, thou art slain it must be through the body of the girl. They
will not slay one of their own maidens."
But Hubba haughtily put the girl aside, making the sign of Thor as he
did so.
"Am I not strong in mine own strength? Why should I use a living buckler
when mine own is better? Skoefnung (the name of his charmed sword) hath
already drunk the blood of many who cannot find relief from its life
stein. Besides, stand I not under the magical banner woven by my sisters
in a single day? I need no maid for protection."
Proudly he turned from them and hastened again into the conflict. But
the Norsemen stood looking at the magical standard, and suddenly they
cried out, "Behold the raven lieth motionless! No longer doth he flap
his wings in token of victory. We are doomed."
A wail of anguish went up from the ranks as they beheld the motionless
raven. Above it came the voice of Hubba:
"If die we must, then die as sons of Odin should. The one-eyed one
prepareth the feast of Shaehrimnir the boar. Fast floweth the mead from
the goat. Welcome awaits us in Valhalla. Welcome and good cheer! But
take with ye many of the Saxon warriors. Thus doth the Alfadur bid ye."
Roused to further exertions, the Danes raised their war chant and
rallied round the fatal standard. Those who had brought Egwina to the
combat now left her standing, and joined the others.
The bewildered girl stood, not knowing what to do or which way to turn.
Everywhere Saxon and Dane mingled together in battle. The Norse women
and children had withdrawn to one side. The women screamed or shouted
encouragingly to husbands or fathers, or chanted the battle songs of
their land. In the midst of the contest, the skalds' voices could be
heard reciting the deeds of heroes and inciting the Norsemen to greater
achievements.
The girl stood an unwilling, fascinated spectator, with no thought of
danger to self. Bravely and fiercely fought the Dane. Bravely and
fiercely fought the Saxon. True sons of Wodan they, and to the fighting
blood of the old Norse heroes was added the lofty exaltation of striking
for home and country.
Suddenly one of the Danish women caught sight of Egwina standing there
in the midst of the battle. With a cry of fury she dashed toward her,
and seizing her by the hair began dragging her back to where the women
and children were.
Egwina cried out at the assault, and strove to tear herself from the
grasp of the woman. At her cry, some of the Saxons turned. One, a youth,
left the others and bounded toward the two.
"Unhand the girl," he commanded.
"Nay," cried the woman; "she shall serve as an offering to Odin. The
battle goeth against us, and the fierce one demandeth a victim. Away!"
The youth grasped the woman by the wrists. "Release thy hold," he
shouted; "or, by St. Peter of blessed memory, I will forget that thou
art a woman."
"Forget it, then! Strike if thou durst! Strike, and upon thy head fall
the curse of Odin."
"I care not for Odin's curses," cried the Saxon, "but I war not with
women. Unhand the girl!"
The woman only tightened her grip the more on the long beautiful hair of
Egwina.
"There is but one way, maiden." The youth let go one of the woman's
wrists to draw his seax. The woman thought that he meant to cut off her
hands. Egwina was of the same opinion, and suffering though she was,
exclaimed, "For the love of Heaven, maim not the woman!"
There was a grim smile on the youth's face. He raised the seax and the
stroke fell. With a scream the woman let the bright hair of the maiden
fall, and fled to the others.
"Oh, didst thou hurt her?" cried Egwina, as the young man assisted her
to her feet.
"No;" and he held up two fair locks of her hair. "I meant only to sever
thy hair from thy head."
"And thou didst not intend to cut off her hands?" cried Egwina,
relieved.
"Am I not a Christian? Do Christians treat others so?" demanded the
youth. "Come, let us to the Saxons, for the battle is ended."
[Illustration: _HE RAISED THE SEAX AND THE BLOW FELL._]
It was true. Elated by their triumph, the Saxons pursued the flying
Danes, and great was the slaughter. Great also was the booty they
obtained from the camp, and, among other things, the magical banner of
Hubba, under which the chief lay dead.
"Now," said the youth to Egwina, "the slaughter is done. Great will be
the joy of Alfred when he hears of this day's prowess. A bode am I to
thee from the king. Mickle and sore doth he repent having let thee go
from his sight as bode for him to his family. He bids me, with others,
to accompany thee on thy journey, and bring thee back in safety to him."
"Oh, hast thou seen him?" cried Egwina. "Heavy was my heart that I could
not warn him of Hakon's intended search. Heavy did it lie in my breast
when I knew that Hubba was to come from the west to overrun the land. I
feared that the king's hopes were vain."
"That was the reason, maiden, that I left thee in the house of Hakon the
jarl," said Ethelred. "Niddering did it seem to leave thee, a girl, in
the hands of the foe, unwitting what might befall thee. But in the king
lieth all our hopes. 'Twere better that thou shouldst perish than that
the king be not warned."
"Thou didst right," declared the girl, warmly. "What am I to be thought
of in comparison with the king? Better, oh, better a thousand such as I
should perish than Alfred."
"Thou art a true Saxon, and so I deemed thee," cried the youth. "Would
that thegn and coerl were filled with thy spirit, and the Dane would no
longer uprear his raven standard in the land. But to tell thee all:
Hakon went forth with a goodly company. Alfred, who had been joined by
numbers of the Saxons, sallied forth, took the jarl by surprise, and the
bones of him and all his company lie whitening on the field."
"Dost thou not remember what the seid woman said?" asked Egwina in
awe-struck tones:
"''Ware, 'ware of the forest, Jarl Hakon,
The dragon steals forth from his lair;
He tears thee and thy people asunder,
And leaves ye as food for the bear.'
"Dost thou suppose, Ethelred, that the vala doth really see what the
future holds?"
"I wot not. There are many things that I understand not, but this do I
know, that 'tis a heathenish practice, and little use have the good
priests for it," and he crossed himself piously.
"True; but oft have I wondered whence came the power that seemed to
belong to them."
"Think not of it," answered the youth, hastily. "Whatever of power they
may have, 'tis of evil. Concern not thyself with such pagan doings, for
unseemly doth it become a Christian. Come, let us to the castle. Bode
must be sent to the king to tell him of this victory. Then thou, and I,
and others will wend us to the depths of Somerset, where the king's
family abide, and then back to Athelney."
And Egwina accompanied him to the castle.