I came back to Olaf while he gathered his ships in the Pool below
London Bridge, and I found him ill at ease and angry with Ethelred
and Eadmund, and when I told him all, most angry with Streone.
"Now you must stay with me, cousin, for that man will have you
slain if he can. There is no doubt that he works for Cnut. And this
word of his about a bribe for me is not his own invention; he has
been told to make it."
Then he told me of the vast host that had poured into Kent. It was
the greatest host that had ever landed on English shores--greater
even than had been ours when we Angles left our old home a desert,
and came over to this new land and took it. Olaf and the Kentish
levies had fought and had been driven back, and now day by day we
looked to see Cnut's armies before London, and also for the coming
of Eadmund with his men. But neither came, for the Mercian levies
would not fight unless the king himself headed them, and Cnut
passed through Surrey into Wessex and none could withstand him.
Aye, they fought him. Wessex is covered with nameless battlefields;
but ere long half of Cnut's fleet was sent round to the Severn, and
Ethelred, sick and despairing, came back to London with but a few
men.
It angers me even to think of what befell after that. Eadmund and
Streone gathered each a good force, and came together within touch
of Cnut. And then on the eve of battle, Edric made known his plan
to his Mercian thanes, and that was nothing more nor less than that
they should go over bodily to Cnut when the fight began. Which
treachery so wrought on the honest Mercians that they would fight
not at all, and so disbanded in sight of the enemy, leaving Eadmund
with but enough men to make good his retreat. And Cnut was master
of all the land from Kent to Severn shores, Ethelred's own country.
So Edric Streone went over to Cnut, and with him many thanes who
despaired of help from Ethelred, and chose rather peace under a
king who was strong enough to give it them. And one night forty of
the English ships slipped away from us down the tide and joined the
Danes at Sandwich. The men had been bribed by Streone, as we found.
Almost then did Olaf make up his mind to leave England, but he
pitied Ethelred, who turned to him again in this new trouble, and
he did not go.
"But my men will not bide patiently much longer," he told me; "here
is neither honour nor gold to be won, and I need them for my going
to Norway when the time comes."
For every day Olaf looked for some sign that should bid him go back
and take his own land from Cnut's hand.
Now Ethelred would not stir from London, fearing treachery
everywhere. And again Eadmund's levies melted away for want of
their king's presence, and at last we persuaded him to meet Eadmund
at Coventry, and I went with him. There was a good levy that would
have followed him, but some breath of suspicion came over him, and
suddenly he left them and fled back to London and the citizens,
whom he trusted alone of all England. And he would not suffer me to
bide with Eadmund, but I must go back with him. So the levies
melted, and Eadmund went north to Earl Utred of Northumbria for
help.
Then when the winter wore away, and April came in calm and bright,
the most awesome thing befell England that had been yet. For in the
north Eadmund and Utred marched across the country, laying waste
all as they went, lest the north should rise for Cnut; and going
east as they went west, Cnut ravaged and burnt all the southern
midlands. Then rose the wail of all England, for friend and foe
alike had turned on her, and her case was at its hardest. And from
that time forwards I know that none who chose Cnut for king should
be blamed.
Then Cnut fell on York, and Utred of Northumbria, whose wife was
Danish, submitted to him, and was slain by Streone's advice, as men
say, though some say that he was slain by Thorkel the Jarl when he
took the ships that tried to escape from the Humber. It may be
thus. The shipmen fought well, and were all slain--sixty ships'
crews.
Now all England was open to Cnut, and Eirik the jarl fell on
Norwich and drove Ulfkytel back on us, and from him we heard of
this trouble.
On the eve of St. George's day, Ethelred sent for me to his
chamber, for he would speak with me. I found him sitting in a great
chair before the fire, wrapped in furs, though the day was warm and
sunny, and he was very feeble, so that his thin hands had little
strength in them. The queen, Emma, was with him, looking young and
handsome as ever, and in the light of a narrow window sat Eadward
the Atheling, the sunshine falling on his strange white hair and on
the pages of a great book over which he pored. He just lifted his
pale eyes from his reading as I went in and saw who it was, and
smiled pleasantly at me, and then turned to his book again. I
thought that the troubles of the time passed lightly on the proud
lady and the boy, whose learning was all that she cared for.
"Come near, Redwald, my son," the king said, in his voice that had
grown so faint of late. "I have a charge to lay on you."
I went and knelt by him, and he put his hand on my shoulder, and
the tears came to my eyes at the kindly touch, for it was the same
as, and yet so unlike, that which had been a promise of friendship
to me at the first time that I saw him.
"All things are slipping from me, Redwald," the king said; "nor is
there aught that I grieve to lay down when the day comes on which I
must pass through the gate of death. Crown and sceptre have been
heavy burdens to me, for with them has been the weight of the sword
also. I have borne those ill, and used that cruelly. I am the
Unredy; but I have listened to ill counsels, having none of my own,
nor wit to see what was best."
He ceased for faintness, and my heart ached to hear him speak thus
to me, his servant. But Emma the queen turned half away from him,
her face growing hard and scornful as she heard. Then Eadward set
his book down gently, and, looking sadly at his mother, came and
stood over against me at the other side of the king, and took his
wan hand and said:
"There are laws which you have made, my father, which will live in
the hearts of men alongside those that Eadgar made--our best. There
will not be all blame to you in the days to come, when men see
clearly how things have gone with you."
Thereat Ethelred smiled faintly, and he answered:
"I pray that it may be so. But the good outweighs not the evil. I
may not count the one--I must confess the other."
He passed into thought, looking into the fire, and we were still
beside him. The queen moved away to the seat where Eadward had been
sitting and took his place, staring out of the window with unseeing
eyes. And I was glad that she was no longer beside us.
Presently the king raised his head and turned it a little towards
me.
"Redwald," he said, "you were our companion in Normandy, and you
are a trusted friend of ours. It will not be long before the queen
must fly to her brother--the good duke--again, and it is in my mind
that her flight will be perilous. When that time comes, let it be
your place to see her safely thither, with the athelings, her sons.
It may be that Olaf will help you, but that you must see to as best
you can. And I have sent for Abbot Elfric to help you."
"Lord king," I said, "what I can I will do, but I think there are
men better fitted than I to guard our queen."
"None whom we trust more fully," the king said.
"See, my queen, this is he to whom you must look for furtherance of
your journey."
Then Emma turned from the window, and her face was still unmoved.
"I can trust Redwald," she said. "It will be well."
But Eadward wept openly, for he knew that the king spoke of the day
when he should die.
"That is well," the king said, and leaned back on his pillows. "Now
have I no care left. Yet it is hard to put so heavy a burden on
your young shoulders, my thane."
"It is an honour rather," I answered. "May I be worthy thereof."
Then a brightness came over the king's face, and he answered me
slowly and plainly, and with great joy, as it were.
"Presently I shall meet with Eadmund, your martyred king, and to
him I will say that his thane of Bures is worthy."
"Forget me not also, my father, when you come to that place,"
Eadward said.
"I will not forget. Now is given me to see plainly what shall be in
the time to come--to what all tends even now. For now in the time
of my death comes to me rede unearthly, as I think. There must be a
strong hand who shall weld England into one--who shall bid our land
forget that difference has ever been betwixt Angle and Saxon, Jute
and Northumbrian, Mercian and Wessexman, Saxon and English and
Dane. And when that wonder is wrought, then shall come peace and a
new life to the land, under one who will give them the laws that
they need to bind them into one English race, strong and honest,
and patient in all things."
Then said Eadward, as the king ceased:
"That is what those who love England would most hope for."
But his voice was hushed, as in the presence of one who sees beyond
this earth.
Thereat the king looked on him, and said:
"Have patience, my son, and you shall see it; aye, and you shall
have part and share therein."
After that he spoke no more, and for a time we waited beside him.
Soon he seemed to sleep, and I rose at a sign from the queen and
left his chamber. Nor did I ever see Ethelred our king alive again.
For when the morning came he had laid his heavy burdens down and
had passed to the rest that he longed for. And the bells that rang
merrily for St. George's mass ceased, and the toll for the dead
went mournfully over the city.
"Eadmund is king, God help him," men said.
So it came to pass that even as they buried the king in the great
Church of St. Paul the Danish armies were closing round the city,
and when I went to Olaf to beg him to advise me concerning the
flight of the queen, he answered:
"You and I must part, my cousin. For you had better take ship from
some quiet port, and that on the southern coast, and so make for
Normandy. But I must see the citizens through this siege, and then
I will come to you at Rouen, and we will take counsel together
again."
He would bide no longer in England after this, for the doubt of him
that Eadmund would not listen to was strong in the minds of others,
and his presence was of little use. Only the London folk and
Ulfkytel loved him, knowing him well, and holding that they owed
him much. But none knew better than Earl Ulfkytel that Olaf must
not bide here longer.
Now our scouts kept coming in with news of Cnut, and at last I
could see by which road to fly with most chance of safety. I would
go by Winchester and so to Southampton and there take ship with the
queen. Cnut's fleet would be in the Thames ere long, if it barred
not the mouth already.
But Abbot Elfric had not come. We feared that he had fallen into
Danish hands, for it was hard to say where they were not. It seemed
that we must perforce leave London without him. Yet I would stay
till the last for his coming.
Now I must leave England, and I have said little about myself. But
when this duty was laid on me by the king, I thought more of my
lost quest of Hertha than I had done of late. For now I must leave
her in our poor land, where she must be hunted maybe from hiding to
biding, place to place, and in my heart grew up an unreasoning
anger against Ailwin and Gunnhild, who by their secrecy had kept me
from bringing her here with Olaf.
Then as I looked over this I became sure that they had seen
somewhat in me which their charge could not love, so that they
would keep me from her altogether. And I made up my mind to that at
last, not wondering that it was so, for I was but a warrior and a
landless thane with nought to be proud of but skilful weapon play,
and some scars to show that I had been in a fight or two where
blows were falling. And I minded how I had told Ailwin that I held
myself free, and thought that he and Gunnhild, and maybe Hertha
also, would have it so.
Yet I cared little for that, having heavier things to fill my mind
than thought for a maiden whose very looks I knew not now. At least
these two had taken Hertha into their charge, denying me any part
therein, and I could not blame them rightly. I had done my best and
could no more.
Then at the last moment Elfric came.
"Glad am I that you have not gone, my son," he said, as I greeted
him. "I have wandered many a long mile over crossroads to escape
the Danes. Very nearly did they have me once, but I escaped them.
That will be a pleasant tale beside Duke Richard's fire, however.
When must we go?"
"With nightfall, father," I said. "The horses are standing almost
ready even now. How many shall you need?"
"Myself, and my chaplain, and three sisters--five," he said, "if
you can take so many. These would fly with me and the queen."
I thought for a moment. The queen had Eadward and his brother
Alfred and five maidens with her, and there were the pack horses
and the servants. But two of the maidens were unwilling to go,
being daughters of London thanes. Our court was very small in these
days. So, as every woman added to our company was a source of
weakness, in that our pace must be that of the least able to bear
fatigue, I doubted until I thought that the queen might let the
sisters take the places of the maidens who cared not to fly with
her.
I went and asked her this, and she flushed with wounded pride,
though I gave her my reasons and urged her peril.
"How shall it be told that Emma of Normandy was beholden to a
nunnery for her handmaidens?" she said.
"It shall not be told, my queen," I said stoutly. "Men shall say
that you gave protection to the holy women."
Truly my wits were sharpened by sore need, for at once the queen
agreed to this. She loved power, and even this little use thereof
pleased her.
"When can we go?" she asked. "I long to see my own land again."
"At nightfall, in two hours' time," I told her.
"It is well. Be ready then," she said.
She had persuaded herself, as I believe, that she arranged all
things, and I was glad to have it so, for I had feared that I
should have had trouble more than enough with her unreasoning
pride.
So I told Elfric that his nuns could go, and he thanked me,
laughing a little, with some thought of their journey here as I
thought, and he added:
"Aye, their dress protects them a little. It is not as in the old
days of heathen against Christian. There is this to be said for
Cnut, that he will have no monastery or nunnery harried if his
orders are carried out."
Then a thought came to me, and I wished that I could persuade our
queen to take on herself and her maidens the convent dress. She
would not be the first royal lady of England who had worn it. And I
asked Elfric to persuade her to do so, for Emma's great failing was
love of queenship.
"If I know aught of our queen," he said, "she wants to ride in
state."
"She does," I answered. "I think, father, that we have a troublous
journey before us. She will not believe but that she may ride as
ever through the land."
"You plan and I will argue," the good man said, being ever light
hearted.
So he went to the queen and spoke long with her, but she would in
no wise ride out of London but as a queen, even as she had told me
more than once. There was nothing against that but that word might
go to the Danish leaders that she was leaving the city. Still, if
we could get her to disguise herself thus when our guards left us
it might be as well. The Danes, did they seek her, would look for a
larger party than ours, and would pay no heed to us, perhaps.
Now Olaf and my Colchester spearmen would be our guards even to the
Surrey hills, for beyond them was not much fear of the Danes, who
were advancing from Mercia, northward of the Thames. Only in the
towns were garrisons whom we must fear, for they sent out parties
to raid the land for provender and plunder and to keep the poor
folk from rising on them.
So it was my plan, and it seemed good to Elfric, to travel as a
little party only. So could we more easily escape notice, and take
the byways, while an armed force, however small, would draw on us
the notice of the Danes whose duty it was to watch against any
gathering of English warriors.
We started that night as soon as dark came on, and the queen was
pleased with the guard around her, and that Olaf the king himself
rode at her side. Men cheered him as we passed along the streets,
and the queen deemed that the cries were for her, and drew herself
up proud and disdainful as she sat on her white horse with spearmen
before and behind her, and her maidens on either side. But I doubt
if any man knew who she was in the dusk. And I had sent the pack
horses and servants on before us to wait our coming at a certain
place, so that none should be able to say that we were a party of
fugitives.
Presently the queen waxed silent, and Olaf and I could talk to one
another of what we would do in the time to come if this and that
happened. I told him that I should certainly return to fight at
Eadmund's side, for the queen would not keep me in Rouen. When he
left London it was his wish to seek me there, and so we looked to
see one another again before very long.
"Then it is farewell, my cousin," he said, when at last we came to
Banstead, for he would not leave us sooner. "We have had a good
fight or two together, and may have more, and to more profit, as I
hope, in the days to come."
We halted at the monastery and prayed for shelter there for the
night, or at least what was left of it, and while Elfric spoke with
the superior of the nuns who were there, I took leave thus of Olaf
and of my spearmen. And these prayed me to return soon and lead
them again. That I promised them, and so the darkness closed
between us as they rode away, and I was left sad at heart enough,
for Olaf was as a brother to me, and I knew not when I should meet
with him again.
There was no talk of Danes at this quiet place over which the wave
of war had gone already, leaving it poorer, but in peace; and it
was not until the next afternoon that we rode out again, our party
being that which must see the long road over together.
Twelve of us there were. The queen and her two maidens and the
three nuns, Elfric the abbot and his chaplain, Eadward and Alfred
the athelings, and Alfred's tutor--who was a churchman of Elfric's
own monastery--and myself.
Then there were the servants, ten in all, who rode each leading a
lightly-laden pack horse. It was such a party as an abbot might
well travel with, and that is all that would be said of us if the
Danish riders asked aught of the roadside folk. I and Eadward alone
were armed as the abbot's housecarles. The men bore but spear and
seax, as would any wayfarer for fear of robbers and the like.
Now, when all was ready in the courtyard, and we waited for the
queen, she stood on the threshold before I knew her, for the nuns
of the place, taught by Elfric, had prayed her to take their dress
for the journey, and she had done so, as also had her two maidens.
They were as abbess and sisters therefore, and I thought that one
trouble was over--that is if our queen would but take the part of a
nun as well as the dress, and be guided by Elfric the abbot.
Thus our journey to the sea was begun. And of that journey I might
tell much, for it was a strange one. I think that the hardest task
that a man could have, must be to take a proud and headstrong woman
through a country full of danger, when she dislikes the manner of
journey. And when that woman is a queen, surely it is harder yet.
Had it not been for Elfric and Eadward I know not how we should
have fared, for at times Emma the queen would not speak with me, if
some plan that I must needs make was not to her liking. And seeing
that she knew nought of the meaning of either time or distance,
that was often enough. And when I heard of danger that must be
skirted she would tell me that none would dare molest the
queen--that she would declare herself and all would be well.
And seeing that of all hostages to Cnut the queen would be the most
valuable, that plan would be fatal. I will say this now, that more
than once I was obliged for very safety's sake to give wayside
folk, among whom we were, to understand that the abbess was crazed
through the long troubles, believing herself a queen.
And, alas for our land! it was but too easy for them to believe it.
Few there were who knew not some wretched ones crazed at that time
by all that had befallen them.
Well it was for us that the nights were clear and warm, and that
the good Surrey and Hampshire franklins' wives were compassionate
and hospitable. I could not now retrace our footsteps, for we could
go by no road at times, but must take to the woods and downs.
And ever when we did so the queen rode sullenly, and angry with all
around her, while Eadward and I and the two priests, who were
valiant men enough, were ahead, scenting danger everywhere, for we
had many a narrow escape of meeting raiding Danes. The stragglers
of that mighty host were everywhere. I think that had we fallen
into such hands I should have tried to send a man in all haste to
the nearest post of the thingmen, that we might be taken again by
warriors at least.
But the ladies bore the long journey well, and Elfric's nuns the
best. I had little to do with them, having so many cares about me,
and was glad enough to leave them in the closer charge of the abbot
and his priests. But soon I found that there was one of the three
nuns who was untiring and ever able to hearten the rest, and that
even the queen listened to her. The dress made all five of the
maidens seem alike at first, but in a few days the pleasant,
cheerful face of this one seemed familiar to me, and it was fair
enough for all the novice's garb she wore. I thought she minded me
of someone whom I knew, and at last, finding out a likeness as I
looked for one, I called her in my own mind Sister Sexberga, for
surely she was like that fair friend of mine. It never happened
that I heard her name, for I was ever forward and away from the
queen's complainings, and the nuns spoke little even to one
another.
Little rest and much care had I all the way thus. I will not write
it, but will go on to the time when we came safely in sight of
Winchester town. I could not enter it with my charges, but must
needs go by myself, for here I should learn more sure news than
anywhere. And what I might learn would decide whether I could take
ship in Southampton Water or turn eastwards a little and go to
Portsmouth or Bosham havens.
Now I knew that the Danes held the place in force, and so I told
the queen. But to pass by her royal city seemed more than she could
bear, and she wished and commanded us to ride in and call on her
citizens to rise and protect her.
"Queen of England I am and will be," she said. "I have borne
indignity long enough."
"My queen," I said, "if you see Winchester you will not see
Normandy."
Then Elfric spoke with her, and at last she wept, saying that she
was deserted, and the like, and so turned sullen, bidding us give
her up to the Danes, who would respect a queen in distress.
Having seen this manner of submission to counsel not once or twice
before, I put on a franklin's dress, and gave sword Foe's Bane into
Eadward's keeping, and took a hunting spear instead, and went down
into the town, leaving my party ten miles away in a nook of the
wooded hills.
The scarlet-cloaked Danish thingmen at the gates paid no heed to
me, for it was market day, and many countryside people were going
in and out. So I went to the marketplace, and sat down on a bench
outside an inn with others and listened to all that I could, while
I drank my ale and ate as did the rest.
Some I talked with. There was little hatred of Cnut here, as I
found. There was some change, too, in the ways of the thingmen, for
it was not their plan here to make themselves hated and feared as
in East Anglia.
Then came a man whose face and walk were those of a seaman, and he
sat down close to me, and I pushed the ale mug towards him, and we
began to talk of his calling. He had come to Winchester to find some
merchant who needed a ship, as it seemed, and he began, as a good
sailor will, to praise his own vessel with little encouragement.
I found out from him that Southampton Water was full of Danish
vessels, and so I asked where his own lay.
"In Bosham haven," he said. "Earl Wulfnoth will have no Danes in
his land. I must get some safe conduct from the Danish folk here if
I come into the Water. So being tired of doing nought I even rode
up to this place to see if aught could be managed for a voyage."
Now I thought that I was in luck's way, for from this man, who
seemed honest enough, I could perhaps gain all I wanted. His ship
was a great buss, fitted with a cabin fore and aft under the raised
decks, and I could wish for no better chance than this might be.
"Would you take passengers for Normandy instead of goods?" I asked
him carelessly.
"Aye, truly, and gladly if they could pay well."
"Now I will tell you that I am Earl Wulfnoth's friend," I said,
"and you may know that pay is safe, therefore. I was at Pevensea
when Olaf the Thick, the viking, came there."
He took my word for my friendship with the earl, and then I
arranged for all things to be ready for us in a week's time. We had
some rough country to cross before we came to Bosham, and I would
not hurry over it. We wrangled over the price a little, as was
fitting, for I would not seem too eager; but at last he said that
he would depart on the morrow, and we shook hands and were
satisfied.
"Speak not of this matter, friend Bertric," I said, "or we may be
waylaid by Danes off the haven's mouth."
"Little fear of that, master," he laughed. "Our young Earl Godwine
has beaten one or two ships already."
Then I went back light hearted to my people, and when the queen
heard what I had done her mood changed, and she was most gracious,
and thanked me, saying that she feared that I had run into danger
for her in going into the town. So I felt myself repaid in full for
the little trouble, that had been without risk as it fell out.
Very fair was the great Andred's-weald in the late April weather,
but the forest tracts were rough and the way seemed long. Once we
beat off, easily enough, some cowardly outlaws, but there were no
Danes in Andred's-weald, and we came to Bosham in safety.
There Bertric's good ship was ready for us, and it happened that no
other vessels, save fishing craft, were in the haven. I had looked
to meet Godwine, my friend, but he and his ships were in Dorchester
water, and there were few to mark our coming into the quiet town,
or our going on board, which we did without delay.
We had no need of the stout housecarles, who had led the horses and
served us so well, so the queen, as I asked her, gave them the
horses as gifts in recompense for their journey, and so when they
had gone we were few indeed. But there was room for few passengers
in the buss. The queen and her ladies had the larger after cabin,
and Elfric and the athelings and the two priests had that under the
fore deck. I would remain on deck with Bertric and his crew of
twenty men, but there was no hardship in that.
That night on Bertric's ship was the first for three long weeks
that had sound sleep for me, for they hauled out into the middle of
the haven, and none could come near us unseen, and I was at last
free from care and watching.
But one thing troubled honest Bertric, and that was that he had
found a black kitten on board. None knew whence it came, and he
said it was an ill sign. And he dared do nought but treat it well,
since it had come.