When the early sunlight woke me, we were almost at the haven mouth,
and slipping past Selsea, with its gray pile of buildings, on the
first of the ebb tide. The wind was in the northeast, with a
springtime coldness in it, but it was fair for Normandy, and there
was no sea running under the land. We were well out at sea,
therefore, ere Elfric, almost as worn out as I, came from his close
quarters forward and stood by me, looking over the blue water of
the Channel to where the Isle of Wight loomed to the westward.
"Now I think that all is well, Redwald," the abbot said, "and every
mile from the English shore takes us further from danger."
And so we stood and talked in the waist of the ship, and Eadward
came and joined us. The men ate their breakfast forward, and
brought us some, and the two churchmen came out with the little
atheling, and then Sister Sexberga, as I called her, came and
shivered in the cold breeze and spoke to Bertric, who was alone on
the after deck steering, and so went back to the cabin, where the
queen had all things needful for breaking her fast.
Then Bertric whistled sharply, and I looked up at him. He pointed
away to the eastward, and out to sea. There I saw far off on the
skyline the sails of two ships that grew larger as I watched them.
I went to the break of the after deck and climbed up beside him.
"Men say that two ships passed westwards tonight, master," he said.
"Here be two more heading over from the south."
"Can you tell what they are?" I asked him.
"Longships, as I think," he answered. "We shall know betimes."
The vessels hove up quickly, for our great brown sail bore us more
or less across their course.
"It is safer to hold on, master," he said, "for to up helm and fly
would be to bring them after us if they are vikings. They will see
that we are not laden with cargo, and will not pay heed to us
therefore."
It was but half an hour after that when we knew that the two ships
were Danish war vessels, and that they were laying a fresh course
to overhaul us. Nor was there any chance of our escaping them. They
were thrice as fast as we.
Then I feared greatly, for I knew not what would happen. It might
be that they would let our party go on, finding them to all seeming
nought but church folk; but one could not tell, and I feared. So
also did Elfric when I went to him and told him what these ships
were, and that they were bearing down on us.
"We cannot fight," he said. "We must let things be as the Lord
will."
"If any roughness is shown to the womenfolk," I said, "there will
be one man who will fight."
"And will lose his life for naught," he answered. "If the worst
comes to the worst we must even do as the queen has bidden us
before now. We must proclaim her, and then we shall be safe from
harm, if captives to Cnut. Tell me, have you heard that he is cruel
to those he takes?"
"Rather I have heard that he is not," I said. "Moreover, if Emma of
Normandy suffers aught at his hands he will have the duke to deal
with very shortly."
"Now are we in the Lord's hands," said Elfric, for a hoarse hail
came from the leading ship, which was to windward of us. She was a
splendid dragonship, bright with gold and colour.
"What will you have me do, master?" Bertric cried to me.
"They can do what they will with us whatever we try. We may fare
better by obeying," I said, for in truth there was nought else to
do.
Now the great ship ranged up alongside of us, and the tall warrior
at the helmsman's side hailed us again to heave to. And I saw a man
bend his bow, and an arrow flew down the wind and stuck in the deck
not far from me. Whereon Bertric raised his arm in answer and
called to his men, and luffed while they lowered the sail. The Dane
at the same time struck sail, and got out some oars in order to
come alongside of us. There was no sea running that would make this
dangerous.
Then I went to the low door of the after cabin, and spoke to the
queen.
"Here is a ship that will come alongside ours," I said. "Fear
nought, but wait for my word."
And then a glint of bright colour caught my eyes, and I looked more
closely into the dark place; and there sat the queen no longer as a
humble abbess, but in her own dress, for she had cast off the garb
she hated, and she answered me:
"Who dares to stay the Queen of England on her passage?"
"Oh, madam," I said, "for pity's sake don the convent robe again. I
fear that the Danes are on us."
Then she cowered back into the shadow and said nought, for the very
word terrified her when she knew her foes were so near. But Sister
Sexberga came to the door, and she was pale enough, though her face
lacked no courage.
"What shall we do, Redwald--thane?" she said quickly.
"Keep a brave heart, sister," I answered, "and let me manage all. I
will bide before the door, and you will hear all I say. Then, if I
say that we have the Queen of England, let our mistress come
forward and disclose herself. But I hope they will let us go free.
Pray that it may be so."
Then the two ships jarred together, and I saw that the Dane was
well manned with armed warriors, and I also saw that their leader
was Egil Thorarinsson, whom I had captured and again lost at
Leavenheath fight. I will say that I was glad to see him, for I
knew him as a free-spoken warrior who loved fair play, and I
thought that he owed me a life, for I did not slay him when I
might.
They leapt on board--a dozen armed Danes with Egil at their
head--and there before them stood Elfric the abbot with his cross
in his hand, facing them alone. His priests were forward under
cover, praying doubtless, with the athelings. The great ship
sheered off again, and bided within half arrow shot of us, all her
rail crowded with men looking on.
"Neither gold nor goods have we," Elfric cried. "We are peaceful
folk who cross the seas. It is the part of a good warrior and
viking to let such go unharmed."
"Aye, so it is," answered Egil; "but, as it happens, we are looking
for certain peaceful folk."
"You will not harm us," said Elfric, who knew nought of our queen's
foolishness. "It is but a party of church people who go to
Normandy."
"Put the holy man aside," said Egil to his men. "We are not
heathens, and we will not hurt you, father."
So the warriors laughed, and went to draw Elfric away; but when he
saw that I stood before the cabin door, he stepped aside by himself
and watched what should befall. I had no mail on, and at first they
did not notice me. It was the first day that I had not worn mail
since we left London; but Foe's Bane was loose in the scabbard, and
ready in case of need.
"Ho, skipper!" Egil cried, "whom have you on board?"
"Yon priest and some more of his sort," Bertric said.
"We have lit on a crow's nest," a man said, laughing. "Where are
they, then?"
"In the fore peak, and aft here, deadly sick," said Bertric.
Then Egil's eyes lit on me, and he stared for a minute.
"Ho!" he cried, "here is no crow, but a stout warrior enough. What
do you here, Olaf's right-hand man?"
"Helping the crows over seas," I said, trying to meet his words
lightly, though my heart was heavy enough.
"Why then, friend," he said, "I must see these charges of yours.
Stand aside, and let me go into that cabin."
"Nay, Egil; they are but nuns here."
The honest warrior looked puzzled, but some of his men began to
crowd aft, being tired of the parley, and one tried to push me
aside, saying:
"Let us fetch them out, and waste no more words."
Whereon I sent him reeling against the gunwale, hands to face, for
I dealt with him even as Godric served my warrior at Stamford.
Then I had my sword out, for it was time--and two men who drew
sword on me went down on the deck before me. Sword Foe's Bane smote
not amiss. Then was a ring of shouting Danes forming, and I felt
someone at my shoulder, and Egil cried out:
"Hold, men! the warrior is my man. Let me deal with him."
And there was Sister Sexberga beside me, with Bertric's sword, that
had hung over his berth, in her hand; and her eyes were flashing,
and it seemed to me that she had used a sword before this, or had
learnt its use. It was reddened now.
The men gave back, and Egil came before me and he was laughing.
"That is enough, Redwald of Bures," he said. "I owe you a life, and
you have it. If all your charges are like that maiden we had better
begone. Little nunnery training is there about her sword play."
Then the sister shrank back into the cabin, and the men stared
after her with a kind of awe, as at a Valkyrie of the old faith who
had come to my help. There was a man whom she had smitten who was
binding up a wound in his bare forearm. I believe that she stayed a
shrewd blow from me.
"Let us go, Egil," I said.
"Presently, maybe. But I seek someone, and must needs see your
people. No harm shall come to them."
Then I thought that all was well, and I turned to the door and
spoke:
"Lady abbess, you must needs come forward. I know this chief, and
you need fear nought."
I heard Sister Sexberga's voice speaking low and pleadingly for a
moment--and then all was lost.
"I am the Queen of England," said Emma in her proud, shrill voice.
"Begone, churls, and let me not."
And bright in crimson and ermine she came from the cabin and stood
swaying on the deck before Egil and his men, while round her train
played heedlessly the ill-omened black kitten; and that seemed
strange.
Egil bared his head and bowed before her.
"Are you truly the queen?" he said.
"Aye, knave. Who else should I be?" she answered. "Fetch me the old
priest."
"Nay, Redwald will tell me now," Egil said. "Does this lady speak
truth?"
"It is true," I answered. "Why should you hinder her going to the
duke, her brother, who will seek her at your hands?"
Now Emma had been still during these words, looking with hard and
scornful eyes at all before her, but now she spoke:
"Let the sail be set again that I may go on my way. You shall
surely answer for this hindrance."
But no one stirred, though even the Danes were silent, for there is
that in the tones of one who is wont to be obeyed which makes men
listen whether they will or not.
"Do you hear me?" she said, stamping her foot.
"Redwald, see that I am obeyed. Drive these knaves into the sea,
and let me be rid of them."
Then Egil answered her, saving me trouble thereby, for I had nought
to say:
"Queen, we will do your bidding and hoist the sail. But my men and
I must bide here."
"I care not, so that you do not hinder my folk," she said.
And with that she turned away, saying to the brave sister who yet
stood beside her:
"Let us seek shelter again--the wind is cold, and I am offended
with the sight of these men."
They went into the cabin and closed the door after them, and Egil
and I looked at one another. Egil grinned, but I could not. Outside
the door the kitten mewed restlessly in the cold wind to be taken
in.
"So," he said, "cheer up. This is not your fault; you almost won
through. Had the queen come forth as an abbess, I think that I had
left you for very shame. Priests and black cats are aye unlucky
passengers, however."
I think that I was never so angry as then. To lose all our pains
for the safety of the queen, and that by reason of her own
foolishness, was hard.
Egil left me and went to Bertric; and once more the sail was set,
and the ship headed backward for the English coast. We had almost
lost sight of it. The two longships ranged up on either side of us,
shortening sail to keep us company.
They took the two men whom I had slain and set them forward under
some covering. Neither Egil nor his warriors bore me any grudge for
their fall, which was in fair fight of their own making. After that
Egil's men made the crew bring them what food and ale they had, and
sat down below the fore deck quietly enough. They were courtmen of
Jarl Thorkel's, as I thought, being better than the wild warriors
who made the bulk of Cnut's great host.
Elfric came to me when all was quiet thus, and leant on the rail
beside me for some time without speaking. We were making a long
slant over to the English coast, and my heart was full of heavy
thoughts, for I could not help wondering if this mischance had come
about by my fault; and I was angry and sore that all the plans that
I had made so confidently had come to naught. Presently the abbot
said:
"The queen takes this matter very easily."
"The trouble is to come," I answered; "she thinks that she is yet
on her journey."
"It is no fault of ours that she is not," said he. "Maybe it is
best thus. I suppose that she will understand how things are when
we reach the shore. What will be done with us?"
"Let us ask Egil," I said. "I think we might have fallen into worse
hands than his. It is in my mind that he likes not his errand."
So we went aft to the chief, who stood beside Bertric. And when I
came to him he said, pointing westward:
"Here comes Earl Wulfnoth, as I think."
Then I saw three large ships beating up to us, and the sail of one
bore, painted on it, the device of a fighting warrior, Earl
Wulfnoth's own ensign.
Now, on this I had a hope that we might be rescued by him, and my
face must have shown as much, while Elfric glanced at me with the
same thought written plainly in his eyes.
"I will not risk meeting the earl, though I do not think that he
will interfere with us," Egil said; "but we are to windward of him,
and can do as we like.
"Now, I have been wondering what I shall do with you, Redwald."
"Let me be taken with the queen and the athelings," I said. "What
will you do with them?"
"They must go to Cnut," he answered; "but I am thinking that that
will be bad for you."
"Why?"
"Maybe it is not my business, but I think that I owe you a good
turn for letting me off at Leavenheath. If I take you to Cnut,
Streone will have somewhat to say about you--and he is a great man
with our king just now."
"Well, what if he has. He knows me well enough, and cares nought
about me," I answered.
"Cares enough about you to have told Cnut to hang you as soon as he
gets you," Egil said. "I suppose you have offended him in some
way."
Then Elfric said:
"That is so. Redwald escaped from his hands at Stamford. We heard
many tales about it at Peterborough. They say that Eadmund the
Martyr came bodily and saved him out of a house beset by the earl's
men."
"If there is one dead man that we Danes have to fear, it is that
king," Egil said. "Is this tale true?"
And he stared at me as at one who had dealings with the other
world.
I knew that my story must have come into this shape through some
tales that the goldsmith had set about.
"Hardly," said I; "but it is a long story. Maybe Eadmund the Saint
had more to do with it than I know; but I saw him not."
"Well then, Redwald, it seems unsafe for you to go near Streone--"
"It will be unsafe for him," I said savagely, for my temper was
sorely tried by my failure, as I have said.
Egil laughed.
"Why, then, all the more must I keep you out of his way."
"Hang me and have done," I said; "I am of no more use."
"That," quoth Egil, "is what I thought concerning myself when you
had me down in the fight. Now I am here to let you go, and bid you
take heart. This is but chance of war, and one must take it as it
comes."
Now it was so plain that the honest chief wished me well, that I
could not but thank him for his words, though, indeed, just at this
time I seemed to care little for what became of me.
"You are a generous foe, Egil Thorarinsson," I said.
"You and I shall be good friends some day, as I hope," he said;
"meanwhile we will be fair foes. You slew me not, because I had
fallen more or less by chance. Therefore I will let you go because
you have fallen into my hands by chance. I will only lay this on
you, that you shall bide with Earl Wulfnoth for two months before
you fight against us again."
I was full of wonder at this, for he might well have made me
promise to take up arms against Cnut no more, and I could have done
no less than promise it, seeing that I was in his hands.
"Why, I must tie you down for a while," he said laughing at my face
of doubt.
"Nay, Egil, I do but wonder that you set me free at all," I said.
"Is that so? I have wondered that you slew me not in the heat of
battle. Well, I will add this, that if we fall on Earl Wulfnoth you
may fight for him."
I held out my hand, and Egil took it.
"You have my word, Egil; you are most generous," I said.
Then he glanced at sword Foe's Bane.
"Some day you and I, maybe, will have a good fight for your sword
in all friendliness," he said.
"Surely I thought you would take it back," I cried. "I feared so,
for it was my father's sword."
"Aha! I knew there was somewhat strange about that blade," he said.
"Tell me what story it has."
I told him in a few words about the winning of the sword from the
grave mound by Thorgeir, my grandfather, and asked Egil how he came
by it.
"I bought it from a man after Nacton fight, and I have never had
any luck with it. I was sure it was a magic sword of some sort; for
it let go three men whom I should surely have slain with any other
blade. It seemed to turn in my hand. Such swords as these will not
be used by any other than he who can win them from the owner."
"Ottar, Olaf's scald, said that it would draw the holder to me," I
said; "but I would not believe it."
"You English have forgotten the old sayings," Egil said. "Now you
know that he is right; keep the sword therefore."
Then I said:
"If I must die a bed death, Egil, the sword shall be sent to you,
for I think that you have the most claim to it."
He grew red with pleasure at my saying, and Elfric broke in on our
talk.
"I would that I might see many more meetings of brave foes like
this. Then would peace come very shortly."
"Why, father," said Egil, "Redwald and I have not any hate for each
other, though we must fight on opposite sides."
"That is well. I would that it were ever so."
Then Egil changed his tone, for we were nearing shore. The ships he
had seen were still far away, beating southward now.
"Are these maidens nuns, or but in disguise, father?" he said.
Elfric answered not at once, and I said:
"Three are nuns, two only are disguised. You will not take the
queen's maidens from her?"
"Not I," he answered. "I think that even with the abbot's help and
theirs I shall have trouble enough with the queen when she finds
that the shore we reach is not Normandy."
"Shall you take me?" asked Elfric.
"I must take all but my own friend here, and the three holy women;
I will not hinder them. They can find shelter in Selsea or
Chichester--a nun has always friends and a house--if Redwald will
see them safely to the door," Egil said very kindly.
Then he bade the men get out the boat, which was a good one, and
fitted for carrying cargo from ship to shore. Two of Bertric's men
were to go ashore with me and the nuns, taking messages also to the
Bosham folk of what had befallen the ship.
"You will scare the wife if you say you have fallen into the hands
of the Danes," Egil said laughing at the shipmaster.
"It is the truth," Bertric said stoutly. "'Tis the doing of yon
cat."
"You shall come to no harm with us, and your ship shall come back
to Bosham shortly. We have no war with your earl, and all will be
well. Tell them, therefore, that it is thus. King Cnut is generous
to all who fight not against him."
When I heard that I began to see why our people went over to his
side so readily, and it seemed to me that he was fighting not only
with sword, but also with policy.
"Now call your nuns, father," Egil said.
"May I have one word with Redwald first?" the abbot asked.
"Tell him what you will," Egil answered, and went forward.
He called one of the priests and told him to bid the three nuns
come forth.
Then Elfric said to me:
"Two of these women are nuns, the third, she who stood by you so
well even now--saving your life, moreover--is not. She is the
orphan daughter of a thane, whom her guardians begged me to take to
Normandy, finding her a place in the queen's household or in some
convent, if that might not be. She is friendless. But I think she
may as well go with the nuns to Selsea. Bid her wait there till she
hears from me--unless some lady will take pity on her and give her
shelter."
"She will be more likely to take the vows, as have so many maidens
of today who are in her case," I said. "I will do all for the nuns
and her that I can."
The three sisters came out now. Two were weeping, and they were the
nuns. The third was flushed and looked troubled, and she cast a
glance back into the dark cabin. I heard the queen's voice speaking
fast to her, as it would seem, and she shrank away as if dreading
it.
Elfric went to meet them, and then the queen herself came through
the cabin door stooping, for it was not high.
"This is your doing," she said to the abbot. "Am I to be left
without any attendants?"
"My queen," the good man said, "we can take the sisters no further
with us. They must go ashore."
The queen looked at the coast, which was plain enough now. It was
certain that she had no knowledge that we were returning to
England. That the ship was on another tack meant nothing to her.
"Why cannot they bide here and go on land with me? We cannot be
more than an hour in reaching the harbour," and she pointed to
Selsea.
"Tell her, father, I pray you," said the maiden in a low voice.
"She believes that we are even now nearing her home."
Then I thought that this might come more easily from myself, seeing
that Elfric had to stay with her, and I stood before her, and
spoke.
"My Queen, that is not the Norman shore which you see. The Danes,
into whose hands we have fallen, are taking us back to England."
As I said this, the queen's face grew white with rage, and she
looked from Elfric to me, speechless. On the deck above stood Egil,
and he caught my eye, and looked ruefully at us.
"What!" she said, "has Cnut bought you also? Is there no man whom I
can trust?"
That was the most cruel thing that she could have said, but I knew
what despair might lie behind her anger, and I answered
nothing--nor did Elfric. We waited for the storm to pass.
"Ill it was that Ethelred trusted me to your hands--" she began
again.
But there was one who would not bear this. The friendless maiden
spoke plainly for us.
"Queen," she said, "I have borne your reproaches to myself in
silence, but I cannot bear that these brave servants of yours
should be blamed. Look at the abbot's torn and dusty robes, look at
the thane's care-worn face--are they in the plight of men who are
bribed?"
But the queen made no answer, and her face was like stone as she
looked on none of us, gazing straight before her.
"What lies on yonder deck?" the girl went on, pointing to where the
two bodies lay under their covering. "It is the thane's sword and
risk of life that stayed them from laying hands on you. Does a
bought man slay his buyers?"
Still the queen was silent, and then I said:
"I think that you misjudge us, my queen. Had we wished to betray
you it would have been long ere this that the Danes would have been
summoned to take you."
I do not think that she heard me, and I am glad, for I spoke in
anger. I saw her lean against the bulkhead, and her hand sought her
heart, and she reeled a little. The maiden sprang forward to
support her, for it seemed as if she would fall. But she recovered
in a moment, and shook herself free of the girl's clasp.
"I am wrong, good friends," she said. "Now I know from what you
have shielded me all this long journey through. What will they do
with me?"
And she began to weep silently, yet she would not let the maiden
touch her.
Elfric spoke then in his gentle voice.
"We cannot blame you, my queen, for the blow is heavy; yet the
chief who has taken us is a true warrior and kindly, you need fear
nought."
Then came Egil from the fore deck, and bowed to the queen, and
said:
"I must take you to Cnut the king, lady; and his commands are that
you are to be treated as becomes the sister of Duke Richard. I am
here to see that it is so."
Then the queen's mood changed, and she was once more herself.
"You shall answer to my brother for all you do," she said in her
proud way.
"I have to answer to Jarl Thorkel and to King Cnut," Egil said
simply. "The duke is no lord of mine."
Thereat the queen paid no sort of heed to him, but spoke to me.
"I will tell my brother hereafter of your great care for me, my
thane. Why must you leave me now?"
Surely I should have asked Egil to let me stay, but he knew best
what was safe for me.
"I will not take either thane or nuns, lady," he said. "They must
leave you even now; time is short."
She glanced coldly at the chief, and answered him by speaking to
me. She had brought herself now to see that she was powerless.
"Then I must say farewell, Redwald. In better days I will not
forget your service," and then she smiled a little, and gave me her
hand to kiss as I knelt before her, adding: "I think that I have
been an ill-natured travelling companion at times."
Then she turned away quickly and sought the cabin. But she said no
word to the maiden who had made the journey lighter to her, and I
saw that this grieved her sorely.
Now I took hasty leave of Elfric and the athelings, and sad was I
at parting with them. But I told Eadward that Egil was worthy of
his charge, and a generous foe.
"You will not blame me that this matter has failed even at the
last, my prince," I said.
"Not I, Redwald, good friend; you and I will laugh over it at some
time hereafter," the atheling said.
I shook my head.
"It has been waste trouble and pains," I said sorrowfully.
"That it has not been," quoth Elfric. "No duty well and truly done
is lost in the end, though it may seem to be so at the time. I
shall remember my guardian in this journey all my life long, and
the queen shall remember presently. You have been most patient.
Lose not patience now. Be of good cheer rather that things are none
so ill as they might be."
So the good man strove to hearten me, for I thought meanly enough
of myself at that time, because I had been so certain that all was
well, and now my pride was humbled. Maybe it was good for me that
this should be so, but good things are passing bitter if all are
like this. Lastly, he gave me his blessing, and I joined the
sisters in the boat, and she was cast off, while at that moment the
black kitten came to the rail and leapt in after us, which I liked
not at all.
Then the great ship slipped away, her helm went down, and she
headed away out to sea to escape a meeting with Godwine's vessels
that had now gone about for the shore again, beating to windward
for Bosham. As she passed us I saw the abbot and Eadward wave to us
from the fore deck, and Egil lifted his hand in salute from beside
Bertric at the helm.
Then they were gone beyond our reach, and we could no longer make
them out. Our rowers were bending to their oars, and the boat was
making good way enough, shoreward.
I do not know how I can say enough of Egil's friendliness to me,
for I found my armour on the floor of the boat alongside the few
things the poor women had. Helm and shield and axe too were there.
He was as one of the heroes, of whom Ottar sang, in his way to me.
Then I grew light hearted in that strange way that comes after long
strain of fearing the worst, when the worst is known and it is not
so terrible after all. I had no fear for the queen, and I was free,
and going to Godwine and his father who were my friends. Also I
should see Penhurst and Relf again, most likely.
Now when that memory came to me, suddenly I thought that I must see
Sexberga. And it was strange to me that I had no pleasure in that
thought. Most of all I hoped that Olaf would put in at Pevensea on
his way to Normandy. It was likely enough.
So I sat and pondered, not sadly, but looking forward ever, and, as
I say, feeling that a load was lifted from me. Then at last my
thoughts came back from myself, and I turned to the sisters and
told them that the queen was safe, if a prisoner. They need not
grieve for her. The two nuns wept, but the thane's daughter smiled
a little, and said, fondling the cat meanwhile on her lap:
"In truth, I think that the queen will be happier in making Egil
and his Danes obey her in little services than she has been in
having to be guided by yourself and the abbot."
"It has been hard for her," I answered; "but she owes you much, as
I think."
"She hates me," the girl said, half tearfully, "because I was the
only one who dared speak plainly to her."
"Elfric and I owe you much, Sister Sexberga," said I, naming her as
I had thought of her through all the journey, because I recalled so
many times when we had looked to her for help in persuading the
queen to common sense,
She looked astonished at this, and smiled oddly, and then I saw
what I had done.
"Forgive me," I said hastily; "I know not your name. That is what I
ever called you to myself when I had to think of you in ordering
matters."
"Why 'Sexberga'?" she said, looking out seawards.
"Truly I thought you like a lady of that name whom I knew. But now
the likeness is gone," I said.
"Maybe I ought to be proud thereof," she said coldly enough.
"I will not say that," I answered. "Let me know your name that I
may remember it."
"My name is Uldra," she said, without looking at me, and flushing a
little, and then busying herself with the kitten's ears.
"That is a Norse name, lady," said I.
"Aye--and a heathen one. But it is the best I have."
Then I said, feeling that I could not say aright what I would:
"Lady Uldra, I have to thank you for saving my life today. Yours
was a brave deed."
She shivered a little, at the thought of what she had done, as I
think, for the heat of anger had gone.
"I am glad I was of use," she answered. "What are we to do when we
come to land?"
"I will take you and the sisters to the great nunnery that good St.
Wilfrith founded. There you will be welcomed."
So I said, but as I looked at her I thought what a prison the
nunnery would be to such a maiden as this. Yet it was all that
could be done.
"That will be peaceful," she said, but the tears seemed close at
hand.
Now one of the men spoke to the other, looking back over his
shoulder at him, and then when he was answered he turned to me.
"Master," he said, "tide serves ill for Selsea, and it will be easy
for us to go straight up the haven to Bosham. The flood tide is
strong in with us. May we do so?"
"Is there any nunnery there?" I asked.
"Why, yes, master--a little one."
There too was Wulfnoth's great house, where I should be welcome, as
I knew. So I asked the sisters if this would suit them.
"One place is as another to us," they replied.
So we went on up the haven, and it was a long pull, so that it was
late in the afternoon when we came in sight of the town.
Now I had said no more to Uldra about ourselves--save for a few
words concerning sea and tides and the like--but had tried to cheer
her, and myself also, by speaking of how Cnut would treat the
queen--namely, that it was most likely to be in high honour, lest
the duke should fall on him.
But as we sighted our journey's end, I bethought myself.
"Lady," I said, "is there aught that I can do for you in sending
messages to your folk? There will be chapmen and the like going
Londonwards shortly, when the siege is over."
"I have no friends there," she said.
"You shall bid me do what you will for you when I am free to go to
our king again," said I. "There will be some who would know where
you are and how you fare."
She thanked me, saying nothing but that when the time came, if I
yet remembered her and would ask her, she might give me messages
for those at Peterborough whom she had left, and I promised to do
all I could in bearing them.
"I cannot forget the maiden who saved my life," I said.
She made no answer, and the boat shot alongside the little wharf,
where a crowd was gathering quickly to see us come. Many questions
there were when Bertric's men were known.
There was a kindly-looking monk among his people, and I went to
him, and brought him to the nuns where they and Uldra stood apart
by themselves, while the two men were busy with their folk.
"Pax vobiscum," he said; "you shall be welcome, my sisters, at our
little nunnery for tonight. Then will we ask the bishop on the
morrow what you had better do."
Then they were eager to go with him, and I bade them farewell,
bowing, and they turned away. They might say nothing, according to
their rule, Elfric told me, save in need.
Neither did Uldra speak, though no vow of silence was on her, but
she went with them for a little way. I was rather hurt at this, and
began to go back to the boat, wondering that she had no word of
farewell.
"Redwald--thane," came a gentle call in her voice, and I turned
sharply.
She was close to me, and the sisters were waiting for her twenty
paces or so away.
"Farewell," she said. "I could but thank you for all your care for
us."
"It has been freely given, lady," I said. "I only grieve that the
journey has ended thus. May it be well with you."
"I will pray for you, thane, day and night in the nunnery that it
may be so with you," she answered, with a little sort of choking.
"The gratitude of us helpless women to you for your long patience
is more than we can say."
Then she went swiftly back to the nuns, and they went their way. I
thought that I had not deserved so much. And of this I was sure,
that had not the sisters' dress kept me far from Uldra, I had
forgotten Hertha in her company. Then thought I that there was no
reason why I should remember Hertha any longer. And next, that it
were better that I should think of no maiden at all, at this time.
Which last seemed wisest, and so I grew discontented, and went down
to the boat and bade the men take my arms and few belongings to
Earl Wulfnoth's house.
When I came there the steward knew me, and made me very welcome.
The earl was at Pevensea or Shoreham, but Godwine was in and out of
the haven, and would be here ere long. So they told me, and set a
good meal before me. And when I had eaten I lay down on a settle
and slept the long sleep that comes to one wearied in mind and body
alike. If the house had burnt over my head I should not have waked,
for others watched now, and I had no need to wake for aught.
A man knows those things in his sleep, I verily believe. One ill
dream I had, and that was of Bertric's unlucky kitten, which seemed
to be the queen in some uncanny way. Sometimes I wonder what became
of it. I never learned, but it brought me no more ill luck.