There was only one man near it, and he sat on the settle inside, so that
he could see out and in as he wished. Him I knew at once, and was glad,
for it was that old warrior who had showed some liking for me at Brent.
He got up slowly as he saw a stranger stand in the gateway and came out
towards me. Then he started a little and frowned.
"Rash--master, rash," he said, but not loudly. "This is no safe place
for you," and he motioned me to fly.
Then I beckoned him out a little further and showed him what I bore in
my hand. And he was fairly amazed and knew not what to say, that I, an
outlaw, should have been sent on this errand, and more, that I should
have come.
I told him, speaking quickly and shortly, how it had come about, and he
understood that the man who gave me the arrow neither knew nor believed me.
"Master," he said, when I had done, "verily I believe that you are true,
and wronged by him I have served this past two months. But of this I
know not for certain, being a stranger here and little knowing of place
or people. But this I know, from the man you sent back, that our thane
sought your life against the word of the ealdorman, and, moreover,
believes that you are dead. But by the arms you wear I can learn how
that matter really went. Now, give me the arrow, and I will see to this
--do you fly."
But I was bent on ending the errand, and said I would carry out the
task, as was my duty, to the end. I would put the arrow with its message
into Matelgar's hand, and bide what might come.
He tried to dissuade me, but at last said that he would not stand by and
see me harmed, and for that I thanked him.
"Well then," he told me, "you have come in a good hour. Most of the men
have gone out here and there to spy what they may of the Danes and their
plans--if gone or not. Others are in the stables, and but one man sits
at the door of the great hall, and he is of no account."
"Where is Matelgar?" I asked.
"I know not exactly; but do as I say and all will be well."
Then I said that his advice had saved me, I thought, when before the
Moot, and I would follow it here.
"Then," he went on, "come you to the hall door and bide there while I go
in and call the thane thither. He will stay by his great chair to hear
your message, and I will stand by the man who keeps the door. Then, when
you have given up the arrow, tarry not, but come out at once, and get
out of this gate, lest he should raise some alarm. Then must you take to
the woods quickly."
So he turned and went in before me. There were some twenty yards of
courtyard to be crossed before we came to the great timber-built hall,
round which the other buildings clustered inside the palisades. But
there were no men about, though I could hear them whistling at their
morning's work in the stables, for the idle time of the day was yet to
come. Only a boy crossed from one side to the other on some errand,
behind us, and paid no attention beyond pausing a little to stare, as I
could judge by his footsteps. At any other time I should not have
noticed even that, but now that I was in the very jaws of the wolf, as
it were, I saw and heard everything. And all the while my heart beat
fast--but that was not from fear, but for thinking I might by chance
see Alswythe.
Yet I will say it truly, that thought of her had no share in bringing me
on this mad errand, which might have ending in such fashion as would
break her heart.
One man, as my guide had said, sat just inside the hall, but I knew him
not. Since he had my hall and his own to tend, Matelgar must have hired
more and new housecarles. This man was trimming a bow at the hearth, and
did not rise, seeing that, whoever I might be, I was brought in by his
comrade. The great hall looked wide and empty, for the long tables were
cleared away, and only the settle by the hearth in the centre remained,
beside the thane's own carved seat on the dais at the far end.
"Bide by the fire till he comes," said my guide, seeing that the man did
not know me, and leaving me there, he went through a door beyond the
thane's chair to seek him.
So I stood where the smoke rose between me and that door, waiting and
warming my hands quietly, and as unconcernedly to all seeing as I could.
"Ho, friend," said the man, so suddenly that he made me start; "look at
your sword hilt before the thane comes," and he pointed and grinned.
Sure enough, my sword hilt was not fastened to the sheath as it should
be in a peaceful hall, but the thong hung loose, as if ready for me to
thrust wrist through before drawing the blade. So I grinned back,
without a word, lest Matelgar should hear my voice and know it, and
began to pretend to knot the thong round the scabbard. All the same, I
was not going to fasten it so that I could not draw if need were, and
only kept on plaiting and twisting.
Then I heard Matelgar's voice and footstep, and I desisted, and, taking
the arrow from my belt, stood up and ready.
He came in, looking round, but not seeing me at first through the blue
smoke, for as I knew he would, he entered by the door through which my
guide had gone just now. So I waited till he stood with his hand on his
chair, while the old warrior came down towards me.
Then I strode forward boldly up to the foot of the dais, and looking
steadily a Matelgar, cast the arrow at his feet, saying:
"In the king's name. The levy is at Bridgwater Cross. In all haste."
He threw up his hands as one too terrified to draw sword--who would
ward off some sudden terror--giving back a pace or two, and staring at
me with wild eyes. His face grew white as milk, and drawn, and his
breath went in between his teeth with a long hissing sound. But he spoke
no word, and as he stood there, I turned and walked out into the
courtyard and to the gate, going steadily and without looking round,
like a man who has nothing either to keep or hurry him.
Three grooms, whom I knew, stood with an unbridled horse on one side,
but they were busy and minded me not till I was just at the gate.
Then one said to the other, "Yonder goes Heregar, as I live!"
Then there came a cry like a howl of rage from the hall, but no word of
command as yet, nor did either housecarle come out that I could hear.
Then I was at the gate, and as I passed it, turning sharp to the right,
for that was the nearest way to the woods, I heard one running across
the court.
When I heard that, instead of keeping straight on, I doubled quickly
round the angle of the palisade. By the time I had turned it the man may
have been at the gate, and would think me vanished. But now I ran and
got to cover in a thicket close to the rear of the house. A bad place
enough, but I must chance it.
I could hear shouts now from the courtyard. I looked round for a way to
escape, but to reach the woods I had now a long bit of open ground to
cover, and was puzzled. Then overhead I heard a bird rustle, and I
looked up, and at once a thought came to me. The tree was an old,
gnarled ash, and the leaves on it were thick for the time of year.
Moreover, the branches were so large that surely in the fork I could
find a hiding place. And being so close to the hall, search would be
with little, if any, care.
So with a little difficulty I climbed up, and there, sure enough, found
the tree hollow in the fork, so that if I crouched down none could see
me from below, while, lying flat against a great branch, I could safely
see something of what might be on hand.
I was hardly sure of this when men began to spread here and there about
the place, but mostly going in the direction of the woods. I heard
Matelgar's voice, harsh and loud, promising reward to him who should
bring in the outlaw, dead or alive, and presently saw him stand clear of
the palisading, about a bowshot from me.
He was red enough now, but his hand played nervously with his sword
hilt, and once when men shouted in the wood, he clutched it. Clearly I
had terrified him, and if he deemed me, as it seemed, a ghost at first
sight, the token of the arrow had undeceived him, and little rest would
he have now, night or day, while I was yet at large.
So I laughed to myself, and watched him till he went back.
Presently the men straggled in, too. One party, having made a circle,
came close by me, and they were laughing and saying that the thane had
seen a ghost.
"Moreover," said another, "we saw him cross the court slowly enough, and
when we got to the gate--lo! he was gone."
Then one said that he had heard the like before, and their voices died
away as he told the story.
Soon after this the horns were blown to recall all the men, and I knew
that Matelgar must needs, even were it a ghost who brought the war
arrow, lead his following to the sheriff's levy.
Aye, and the following that should be mine as well. The message I had
brought should have been to me as a king's thane, and I myself should
have sent one to Matelgar to bid him come to the levy, even as he would
now send to the other lesser thanes and the franklins round about, in my
place. The men were running out even now, north and west and east, as I
thought of this in my bitterness, and I watched them, knowing well to
whom this one and that must go in each quarter.
This was hard to think of. Yet I had stood in Matelgar's presence, and
had him in my power for a minute, while I might have struck him down,
and had not done so. And all that long night in Sedgemoor I had promised
myself just such a moment, and had pictured him falling at my feet, my
revenge taken.
But how long ago that seemed. Truly I was like another man then. And
since that night there had been the wise counsel of the hermit, the
prattle of the child, the touch and voice of my loved one, the thought
of a true friend, and now the sore need of the country I loved. And, for
the sake of all those things, I do not wonder that, as I saw Matelgar
pale and tremble before me, the thought of slaying him never entered my
head.
I will not say that I was much conscious of all these things moulding my
conduct; but I know that since I took this message on me, and it seemed
to me that the prophecy was on its way to fulfilment, I had, as it were,
stood by to see another avenger then myself at work in a way that should
unfold itself presently--so sure was I that all would come out as the
hermit foretold. So it was with a sort of confidence, and a boy's love
of adventure, too, that I had run into danger thus, while now that I had
come off so well, my confidence was yet stronger. However, it would not
make me foolhardy, for my father was wont to tell me that one may only
trust to luck after all care taken to be well off without it.
Men came trooping in from the nearer houses and farms very soon, armed
and excited. Often some passed under me, not ten paces off, and then I
shrank down into the hollow. All spoke of the Danes as gone, but at last
one said he thought he could see them, away by Steepholme Island, half
an hour agone. Though it might be fancy, he added, for their ships were
very low, and hard to see if no sail were spread.
But from all I gathered, the Danes were over on the other coast, and out
of our way for the time at least.
Then I grew very stiff in the tree: but so many were about that I dared
not come down. They were, however, mostly gathered in the open in front
of the great gate, and only passers by came near me. It was some three
hours after noon before they gathered into ranks at last, and the roll
was called over by Matelgar himself, as he rode along the line fully armed.
When that was done, he put himself at the head, and they filed off up
the road towards Bridgwater. I remembered that, when I was quite little,
my father once had to call out a levy against the West Welsh, and then
there was great cheering as the men started. There was none now--only
the loud voice of the thane as he chided loiterers and those who seemed
to straggle.
I began to think of coming down when the last had gone, but a few men
from far off came running past to catch them up, and I kept still yet.
Then a great longing came upon me to join the levy and fight the Danes,
if fight there should be, and I began to plan to do it in some way, yet
could not see how to disguise myself, or think to whose company to
pretend to belong.
The place seemed very quiet after all the loud talk and shouting that
had been going on. My father's levy had had ale in casks, and food
brought out to them while they waited. But I had seen none of that here.
Maybe, however, it was in the courtyard, I thought, and this I might
see, if I climbed higher, above the palisading.
So I left my sword in the hollow, lest it should hamper me, and went up
a big branch until I could see over just enough to look across to the
great gate, which still stood open. Then I forgot all about that which
had made me curious, for I saw two figures in the gateway.
Alswythe stood there, talking with my friend, as I will call him ever,
the old housecarle, and no one else was near them.
My first thought was to come down and run to her; but I remembered that
I could but see one corner of the court, and that many more housecarles
might be at hand, and waited, not daring to take my eyes from Alswythe
lest I should lose her.
They were too far off for me to hear their voices, nor did they make
sign or movement that would let me guess that which they spoke of; but
presently the old man saluted, and Alswythe went out of the gate.
Then my heart leaped within me, for I thought, and rightly, that she
sought her bower in the wood. And so she passed close by me in going
there, and I must not speak or move for fear of terrifying her.
But when she had gone up the path, I looked round carefully once or
twice, and came down, and then, buckling on my sword again, looked
warily out of the thicket, and seeing that none was near, crossed the
open and followed her.
There I found her in her place as she had found me the other day, and
soon once more we were side by side on the old seat; and she was blaming
me, tenderly, for my rashness. Yet she knew not that it was I who had
brought the arrow, and her one fear was that I had joined those Danes.
And when I looked at her, I saw that she had been sorely troubled, and
this was the cause, for she said:
"I knew that you, my Heregar, would not fight against your own land, and
so they would surely slay you."
So will a woman see the truth of things often more clearly than a man.
For that the vikings might call on me to fight my Saxon kin had, till
last night, never crossed my mind, yet after Charnmouth fight it was
like enough.
Then she asked what brought me here, and I told her that, seeing the
burning of Watchet, I had a mind to join the levy, if I could, and so
fight both for country and for her. That was true enough as my thoughts
ran now--and surely I was not wrong in leaving out the story of the
errand with the war arrow, for that would have told her of her father's
lust for my destruction.
Then she wept lest I should fall, but being brave and thoughtful for my
honour, and for my winning back name and lands, bade me do so if I
could, cheering me with many fond and noble words, so that I wondered
that such a man as I could have won the love of such a woman as she.
Now the time was all too short for me to tarry long: but before I went,
Alswythe would bring me out food and drink that I might go well
strengthened and provided. And as I let her go back to the hall, I asked
her the name of that old warrior to whom she spoke, for it was he, I
told her, who had tried to help me before the Moot.
And then I was sorry I had told her that, for she might ask him of the
matter and hear more than was good for her peace of mind; but it was
done, and nothing could recall it.
Yet she did not notice it then, but said his name was Wulfhere, and that
he was a stranger from Glastonbury, as she thought, lately come into her
father's service. She was going then, and I asked her to let me have
speech with him, as I thought it safe, if he were to be trusted, for I
needed his advice in some things.
She said she would sound him first, not knowing how he had seen me
already, of course, and so went quickly away towards the hall.
What I needed the old man for was but to try to repair my slip of the
tongue, and warn him of my love's ignorance of her father's unfaith to
me; but as it fell out, it was well I asked to see him.
Presently he came to me. I had to slip into the bushes and lie quiet
till I knew who it was, and when I came out he smiled gravely at me,
shaking his head, yet as one not displeased altogether.
"Well managed, master," he said, still smiling, "but I knew not that you
had so strong a rope to draw you hither."
Then I told him the trouble I was like to bring on Alswythe if he told
her all that passed at Brent; letting him have his own thoughts about my
reason for coming to Matelgar's hall, which were wrong enough, though
natural at first sight, maybe.
He promised to be most wary, and I was content. Then I asked him how I
should join the levy.
"Master," he said, very gravely, "this is like to be a matter of which
we have not seen the end. Yon Danes are up channel, and, as I believe,
lying at anchor by the Holms. It will not be their way, if, having gone
so far up, they sack not every town on their way back-unless they are
beaten off on their first landing. Now the country is raised against
them, sure enough; but our levy is a weak crowd when it is first raised,
and they are tried warriors, every one. Now they may go on up tide to
the higher towns, or else they will be back here, like a kite on a
chicken, before men think, and Bridgwater town will see a great fight,
and maybe a burning, before tomorrow."
Then I said that the levy would beat them off easily enough; but the old
warrior shook his head.
"I was at Charnmouth," he said, "when King Ethelwulf himself led the
charge. And our men fought well; but it was like charging a wall
bristling with spears. Again and again our men charged, but the Danes
stood in a great ring which never broke, although it wavered once or
twice, until we were wearied out, and then they swung into line and
swept us off the field. Until we learn to fight as they fight, we are
weaker."
Then I began to fear for Alswythe, and asked him what guard was left for
the hall, and again he shook his head.
"Myself, and five others--not the strongest--and a dozen women, and
three boys, thralls."
I knew not what to say to this; but the wise old man had already thought
of a plan in case of danger. And in this, he said, I could advise him,
for he was a stranger.
"Horses enough are left," he told me, "and if the Danes come to
Bridgwater, and are not beaten off, I shall mount the Lady Alswythe and
the women, and take them to a safer place. But whither?"
I told him at once of the house of a great thane beyond the Quantocks,
easily reached by safe roads through the forest land, where Danes would
not care to follow, and he thanked me.
Then he said that I might well try to join the levy; but that it was
possible that it would be hard for me. And I told him that if I could
not manage it I would join in the fight when no man would question me,
and that seemed possible to both of us. But if the Danes yet kept away I
knew I could wait in hiding, having money now, safely enough till they
had gone and the levy dispersed.
Then came Alswythe back, bearing with her the things I needed. And
Wulfhere begged her not to bide alone in the wood now, since robbers
might be overbold now that the men were drawn off to the levy. That was
good advice in itself; but I knew that he would have her near the hall,
lest there should be sudden need for fleeing. She promised him, thanking
him for the warning, and he left us.
Then she tended me as I ate, carefully, and never had there been for me
so sweet a meal as that, outlawed and homeless though I was to the
world. For her word was my law now, and my home was all in her love for me.
I think no man can rightly be held an outlaw who has kept law and has
home such as that. For while he has, and loves those, wrong will he do
to none.
It was Alswythe who bade me go at last, not for her own sake, but for
mine, that I might go on my way to win my fair name back again.