"I was thinking much of what you said last night," Freda said at
breakfast. "How is it that you, whose religion is as you say a peaceful
one, can yet have performed so many deeds of valour and bloodshed?"
"I am fighting for my home, my country, and my religion," Edmund said.
"Christianity does not forbid men to defend themselves; for, did it do
so, a band of pagans might ravage all the Christian countries in the
world. I fight not because I love it. I hate bloodshed, and would
rather die than plunder and slay peaceful and unoffending people. You
have been in England and have seen the misery which war has caused
there. Such misery assuredly I would inflict on none. I fight only to
defend myself and my country men and women. Did your people leave our
land I would gladly never draw sword again."
"But what would you do with yourself?" Freda asked in tones of
surprise. "How would you pass your time if there were no fighting?"
"I should have plenty to do," Edmund said smiling; "I have my people to
look after. I have to see to their welfare; to help those who need it;
to settle disputes; to rebuild the churches and houses which have been
destroyed. There would be no difficulty in spending my time."
"But how could a man show himself to be a hero," the Danish girl asked,
"if there were no fighting?"
"There would be no occasion for heroes," Edmund said, "at least of
heroes in the sense you mean--that is, of men famous principally for
the number they have slain, and the destruction and misery they have
caused. Our religion teaches us that mere courage is not the highest
virtue. It is one possessed as much by animals as by men. Higher
virtues than this are kindness, charity, unselfishness, and a desire to
benefit our fellow-creatures. These virtues make a man a truer hero
than the bravest Viking who ever sailed the seas. Even you, Freda,
worshipper of Odin as you are, must see that it is a higher and a
better life to do good to your fellow-creatures than to do evil."
"It sounds so," the girl said hesitatingly; "but the idea is so new to
me that I must think it over before I can come to any conclusion."
Freda then went about her occupations, and Edmund, knowing that
Siegbert would not return for some time, as he was going with Bijorn to
a council which was to be held early in the day, strolled down to look
at the galleys ranged along on the beach. These varied greatly in form
and character. Some of the sailing ships were large and clumsy, but the
galleys for rowing were lightly and gracefully built. They were low in
the water, rising to a lofty bow, which sometimes turned over like the
neck of a swan, at other times terminated in a sharp iron prow, formed
for running down a hostile boat. Some of them were of great length,
with seats for twenty rowers on either side, while all were provided
with sails as well as oars. When the hour for dinner approached he
returned to Siegbert's tent. The jarl had not yet come back from the
council. When he did so Edmund perceived at once that he was flushed
and angry.
"What has disturbed you, father?" Freda asked, as on hearing his voice
she entered the tent. "Has aught gone wrong at the council?"
"Yes," the jarl replied, "much has gone wrong. Bijorn and I had not
concluded our bargain when we went to the council. We had, indeed, no
difficulty about the terms, but we had not clasped hands over them, as
I was going back to his tent after the council was over. At the council
the expedition against France was discussed, and it was proposed that
we should consult the gods as to the chances of the adventure. Then the
Jarl Eric rose and proposed that it should be done in the usual way by
a conflict between a Dane and a captive. This was of course agreed to.
"He then said that he understood that there was in the camp a young
Saxon of distinguished valour, and that he proposed that Sweyn, the son
of Bijorn, should fight with him. Sweyn had expressed to him his
willingness to do so should the council agree. I rose at once and said
that the Saxon was no longer a captive, since I had ransomed him
because he had once done me a service; but upon being pressed I was
forced to admit that the bargain had not been concluded. I must acquit
Bijorn of any share in the matter, for it came upon him as much by
surprise as it did upon me. It seems that it is all Sweyn's doing. He
must have taken the step as having a private grudge against you. Have
you had any quarrel with him?"
"No," Edmund replied. "He has ever shown himself haughty and
domineering, but we have come to no quarrel."
"At any rate he wants to kill you," Siegbert said. "I did my best to
prevent it, pointing out that the combat ought to take place between a
Frank and a Dane. However, the Northmen are always glad to see a good
fight, and having satisfied themselves that in point of age and
strength you were not unfairly matched, they decided that the conflict
should take place. He is taller, and I think somewhat stronger than
you, and has proved himself a valiant fighter, and I would give much if
the combat could be avoided."
"I fear him not," Edmund said quietly, "though I would fain that this
could be avoided. Had I met Sweyn upon a battle-field in England I
would have slain him as a natural enemy; but to fight him in cold
blood, either as a matter of augury or to furnish amusement for the
assembly, likes me not. However, I must of course defend myself, and if
harm comes to him it is no blame of mine."
"You will have no easy victory, I can tell you," Siegbert said, "for
none among our young Danes bears a higher reputation."
"But after the combat is over how shall I stand?" Edmund asked; "for if
I defeat or slay Sweyn I shall still be his father's slave."
"That will you not," Siegbert replied. "In these cases the captive if
victorious is always restored to liberty; but at any rate you shall
fight as a free man, for when I have finished my dinner I will go to
Bijorn and conclude our bargain. Do not look so cast down, Freda; a
Northman's daughter must not turn pale at the thought of a conflict.
Sweyn is the son of my old friend, and was, before he took to arms,
your playfellow, and since then has, methought, been anxious to gain
your favour, though all too young yet for thinking of taking a wife;
but never mind, there are as good as he to be found; and if our young
Saxon here proves his conqueror other suitors will come, never fear."
Freda was silent, but her face flushed painfully, and Edmund saw the
tears falling down her cheeks as she bent over her plate.
After the meal was over Siegbert again went out, and Edmund,
approaching Freda, said, "Do not fret, Freda; if it should be that I
find my skill in arms greater than that of Sweyn, I promise you that
for your sake I will not wound him mortally."
"I care not," the girl said passionately; "spare him not for my sake,
for I hate him, and were there no other Norseman in the world I would
never be wife of his."
So saying she left the tent. Edmund now regretted the chance which had
assigned him to Siegbert, for he would rather have taken his chance of
escape by sea than have awaited the conflict with Sweyn. But he could
not carry his plan of escape into effect now, for it would seem as if
he had fled the conflict. That this would be a desperate one he did not
doubt. The course which Sweyn had taken showed a bitter feeling of
hatred against him, and even were it not so the young Northman would,
fighting in the presence of the leaders of his nation, assuredly do his
best to conquer. But Edmund had already tried his strength with older
and more powerful men than his adversary and had little fear of results.
The news of the approaching conflict caused considerable excitement in
the Danish camp, and Edmund's figure was narrowly scrutinized as he
wandered through it. All who had been engaged in the war in Wessex had
heard of Edmund, and there was no slight curiosity, when the news went
abroad that the Saxon leader was a captive in the camp, to see what he
was like.
At first when it was bruited abroad that Sweyn, the son of Jarl Bijorn,
was to fight this noted Saxon champion the idea was that the enterprise
was a rash one, strong and valiant as Sweyn was known to be for a young
man; but when it was seen that Edmund was no older than he, and to the
eye less strong and powerful, they felt confident in the power of their
champion to overcome him.
Siegbert spared no pains to see that his guest had an even equal
chance. He procured for him a strong and well-made helmet which fitted
him comfortably, and gave him the choice out of a large number of
shields and swords. Edmund selected a weapon which answered nearly in
weight and balance that which he was accustomed to wield. There was
feasting again that night in Siegbert's tent; but he did not allow
Edmund to join in it, insisting after the meal was over that he should
retire to a small hut hard by.
"You will want your head and your nerves in good order to-morrow," he
said. "Feasting is good in its way, and the night before battle I
always drink deeply, but for a single combat it were best to be
prudent." As Edmund left the tent Freda, who had not appeared at
dinner, came up to him.
"I have been crying all day," she said simply. "I know not why, for I
have often seen my father go out to battle without a tear. I think you
must have upset me with your talk this morning. I hope that you will
win, because it was wrong and unfair of Sweyn to force this battle upon
you; and I hate him for it! I shall pray Odin to give you victory. You
don't believe in him, I know; still my prayers can do you no harm."
"Thank you," Edmund said. "I shall pray to One greater and better than
Odin. But weep not any longer, for I trust neither of us will be
killed. I shall do my best to guard myself, and shall try not to slay
him; for this fight is not for my nation or for my religion, but
concerns myself only."
The following morning the Northmen assembled. The jarls and other
leading men formed the inner line of a circle some thirty yards in
diameter, the others stood without; Jarl Eric entered the ring with
Sweyn, while Edmund, accompanied by Siegbert, entered at the other side
of the circle.
"I protest," Siegbert cried in a loud voice, "against this conflict
taking place. Edmund the Saxon is no captive here, but a free man, and
my guest; moreover, being a Saxon, the issue of this fight between him
and a Northman can serve no purpose as an augury as to the success of
our expedition against the Franks. Therefore do I protest against the
conflict."
There was again a consultation between the leaders, for a murmur of
approbation had run round the ranks of the spectators, who it was
evident were impressed in favour of the young Saxon, and considered
that the jarl's words were just and reasonable. Eric spoke for a minute
with Sweyn.
"I feel," he said in a loud voice, "that what Jarl Siegbert says is
reasonable, that no augury can be drawn from the fight, and that, since
Edmund is no longer a captive, and a friend of Siegbert's, he cannot be
forced into fighting in order that we may have an augury. But the
Saxon, though so young, has won a reputation even among us, the enemies
of his race; and my friend Sweyn, who has shown himself one of the
bravest of our young men, considers that he has cause of quarrel with
him, and challenges him to fight--not necessarily to the death, or till
one is slain, but till the jarls here assembled do pronounce one or the
other to be the victor. This is a fair challenge--first, there is a
private quarrel; next, there is emulation between these young men, who
may fairly claim to be the champions of the youth of the two races.
Such a challenge the Saxon will hardly refuse."
In accordance with the customs of the day it would have been impossible
for Edmund to have refused such a challenge without disgrace, and he
did not for a moment think of doing so.
"I am ready to fight Sweyn," he said. "I have no great cause of quarrel
with him; but if he conceives that he has grounds of quarrel with me,
that is enough. As to championship of the Saxons, we have no champions;
we fight not for personal honour or glory, but for our homes, our
countries, and our religion, each doing his best according to the
strength God has given him, and without thought of pride on the one
hand or envy on the other because the strength or courage of one may be
somewhat greater than that of another. Still, as a Saxon standing here
as the only representative of my nation in an assembly of Northmen, I
cannot refuse such a challenge, for to do so would be to infer that we
Saxons are less brave than you. Therefore I am ready for the combat."
The Northmen clashed their weapons against their shields in token of
their approval of the young Saxon's words, and the young champions
prepared for the combat. They were naked to the waist save for shield
and helmet; below the waist each wore a short and tightly-fitting
garment covered with plates of brass; the legs were naked, and each
wore a pair of light sandals; their weapons were long straight swords.
The weapon Edmund had chosen was considerably lighter than that of his
opponent, but was of toughest steel, on which were engraved in rough
characters, "Prayers to Woden for victory."
The difference in height between the combatants was considerable.
Edmund stood five feet ten, but looked shorter from the squareness and
width of his shoulders. Sweyn was nearly four inches taller, and he too
was very strongly built. His muscles indeed stood out in stronger
development than did those of Edmund, and if pure strength was to win
the day few of those who looked on doubted that the Dane would be the
victor.
The combat was a long one. For some time Edmund contented himself with
standing upon the defensive and guarding the tremendous blows which
Sweyn rained upon him. In spite of the efforts of the Northman, he
could neither beat down the Saxon's guard nor force him to fall back a
single step.
Again and again the rattle of the spectators' arms clashed an approval
of Edmund's steady resistance to his opponent's assaults. The Norsemen
delighted beyond all things in a well-fought encounter. Each man,
himself a warrior, was able to appreciate the value of the strokes and
parries. The betting at the commencement had run high upon Sweyn, and
horses, armour, arms, and slaves had been freely wagered upon his
success; but as the fight went on the odds veered round, and the
demeanour of the combatants had as much to do with this as the skill
and strength shown by Edmund in his defence. The Dane was flushed and
furious; his temper gave way under the failure of his assaults. The
Saxon, on the contrary, fought as calmly and coolly as if practicing
with blunted weapons; his eyes never left those of his adversary, a
half smile played on his lips, and although drops of perspiration from
his forehead showed how great were his exertions, his breathing hardly
quickened.
Twice Sweyn drew back for breath, and Edmund each time, instead of
pressing him, dropped the point of his sword and waited for him to
renew the combat. At present he had scarce struck a blow, and while his
own shield was riven in several places and his helmet dinted, those of
Sweyn were unmarked.
At the third assault Sweyn came up determined to end the conflict, and
renewed the attack with greater fury than before. Three times his sword
descended with tremendous force, but each time it met the blade of the
Saxon; the fourth time his arm was raised, then there was a flash and a
sudden shout from the crowd.
With a mighty blow Edmund had smitten full on his opponent's uplifted
arm, and, striking it just above the elbow, the sword clove through
flesh and bone, and the severed limb, still grasping the sword, fell to
the ground.
A loud shout of approval burst from the Danes. Although the conqueror
was their enemy they appreciated so highly the virtues of coolness and
courage that their applause was no less hearty than if the victor had
been a countryman. Sweyn had fallen almost the instant the blow had
been struck. The ring was at once broken up, and his friends ran to
him. The Norsemen were adepts at the treatment of wounds, and
everything had been prepared in case of emergencies.
A bandage was instantly tied tightly round the upper part of the arm to
stop the rush of blood, and the stump was then dipped into boiling
pitch, and Sweyn, who had become almost instantly insensible from the
loss of blood, was carried to his father's tent. According to custom
handsome presents of swords and armour were made to Edmund by those who
had won by his success.
It would have been considered churlish to refuse them, and Edmund had
no thought of doing so, for he needed money, and these things in those
days were equivalent to wealth.
"You have done well and gallantly indeed, my young friend," Siegbert
said as, followed by several slaves bearing Edmund's presents, they
returned to the tent. "I am glad you did not slay him, for I think not
that he will die. Such a blow given in battle would assuredly have been
fatal, but here the means of stanching the blood were at hand, and I
trust for Bijorn's sake that he will recover; but whether or no he
brought it on himself."
On reaching the tent Freda ran out radiant.
"I hear that you have conquered," she said, "and I am glad indeed; it
serves him right, for all say that he forced the fight upon you."
"I did not know that your sympathies were so strongly against Sweyn,"
Siegbert said in a somewhat reproachful tone. "He has always been your
devoted follower."
"He has always been my tyrant, father, for he has always insisted on my
doing his pleasure; but if he had been ten times my follower, and had
been a valiant warrior instead of a youth, and I a maiden of twenty
instead of a girl of fifteen, I should still be glad that he was
conquered, because without any reason for quarrel he has sought to slay
this Saxon youth who did us such great service, and to whom as he knew
we were so indebted."
Siegbert smiled. "Hitherto I have wondered, daughter mine, at the
reason which induced Sweyn to challenge Edmund, but now methinks I
understand it. Sweyn has, as his father has told me, youth as he is,
set his heart on winning your hand when you shall reach the age of
womanhood, and it is just because Edmund has done you and me service
that he hates him. You are young, child, for your bright eyes to have
caused bloodshed; if you go on like this there will be no end to the
trouble I shall have on your account before I get you fairly wedded."
Freda coloured hotly.
"That is nonsense, father; another five years will be soon enough to
begin to think of such things. At any rate," she said with a laugh, "I
am rid of Sweyn, for he can hardly expect me ever to love a one-armed
man."
"There have been brave warriors," Seigbert said, "with but one arm."
"It makes no difference," Freda laughed; "if he had fifty arms I should
never love him."
Edmund now entreated Siegbert to repay himself from the presents he had
received for the goods he had the evening before given to Bijorn as the
price of his liberty, but this the jarl would not hear of. Edmund then
begged him to buy with them, of Bijorn, the four Saxon slaves with whom
he had agreed to attempt an escape, and to expend the rest of the
presents in freeing as many other Saxon prisoners as he could.
This Siegbert did, and by the evening Edmund had the satisfaction of
finding around him twelve Saxons whose freedom he had purchased. He
remained as the guest of Siegbert until the expedition sailed in the
last week of March. Then with the twelve Saxons he embarked in
Siegbert's ship, which, instead of keeping with the others, sailed for
the mouth of the Thames. The wind was favourable and the passage quick,
and three days after sailing Edmund and his companions were disembarked
on the coast of Kent. His adieus with Siegbert were hearty and earnest.
"I would you had been a Northman," the jarl said, "for I love you as a
son, and methinks that when the time comes, had you been so inclined,
you might have really stood in that relation to me, for I guess that my
little Freda would not have said no had you asked her hand; but now our
paths are to part. I shall never war again with the Saxons, for indeed
there is but scant booty to be gained there, while you are not likely
again to be cast upon our shores; but should the fates ever throw us
together again, remember that you have a friend for life in Jarl
Siegbert."
Freda, who had accompanied her father as usual, wept bitterly at the
parting, which, however, she did not deem to be as final as it appeared
to her father; for the evening before, as she was standing on the poop
with Edmund, he had said to her, "You will not forget me, Freda; we are
both very young yet; but some day, when the wars are over, and England
no longer requires my sword, I will seek you again."
"Is that a promise, Edmund?"
"Yes, Freda, a solemn promise."
"I will wait for you," she said simply, "if it were till the end of my
life."
The youth and girl ratified the promise by a kiss, and Freda, as
through her tears she watched the boat which conveyed Edmund and his
companions to shore, felt sure that some day she should see her Saxon
hero again.
On landing, Edmund soon learned that the Danes were everywhere masters,
and that since the autumn nothing had been heard of the king, who was
supposed to be somewhere in hiding.
In every village through which they passed they found evidence of the
mastership of the Danes. Many of the houses were burnt or destroyed,
the people were all dressed in the poorest garb, and their sad faces
and listless mien told of the despair which everywhere prevailed. In
every church the altars had been thrown down, the holy emblems and
images destroyed, the monks and priests had fled across the sea or had
been slain.
The Danish gods, Thor and Woden, had become the divinities of the land,
and the Saxons, in whom Christianity had but recently supplanted the
superstitions of paganism, were fast returning to the worship of the
pagan gods. Edmund and his companions were shocked at the change. On
reaching home they found that the ravages of the Danes had here been
particularly severe, doubtless in revenge for the heavy loss which had
been sustained by them in their attack upon Edmund's fortification. His
own abode had been completely levelled to the ground, and the villages
and farm-houses for the most part wholly destroyed. His people were
lying in rude shelters which they had raised, but their condition was
very much better than that of the people in general.
The news of Edmund's return spread like wildfire, and excited the most
extreme joy among his people, who had long given him up for lost. He
found to his delight that the Dragon had returned safely, and that she
was laid up in her old hiding-place. The great amount of spoil with
which she was loaded had enabled her crew largely to assist their
friends, and it was this which had already raised the condition of the
people above that of their neighbours. Houses were being gradually
rebuilt, animals had been brought from districts which had been less
ravaged by the Danes, and something approaching comfort was being
rapidly restored.
Upon the day after Edmund's return Egbert arrived. Feeling sure of
Edmund's death he had taken no steps towards rebuilding the house, but
was living a wild life in the woods, when the news reached him that
Edmund had reappeared. His own large share of the booty with that of
Edmund he had buried, with the portion set aside for the king, in the
wood near the spot where the Dragon was laid up.
They had passed up the Parrot at night unobserved by the Danes, and
after taking the masts out of the Dragon, and dismantling her, they had
laid her up in the hole near the river where she was built. There was
little fear of her discovery there, for the Danes were for the most
part gathered in winter quarters at the great camp near Chippenham.
Egbert's delight at the reappearance of Edmund was unbounded, for he
loved him as a son, and it was a long time before their joy at the
meeting was sufficiently calmed down to enable them to tell each other
the events which had happened since they parted three months before.
Egbert's narrative was indeed brief. He had remained two or three days
off the coast of Norway in the lingering hope that Edmund might in some
way have escaped death, and might yet come off and join him. At the end
of a week this hope had faded, and he sailed for England. Being winter,
but few Danish galleys were at sea, and he had encountered none from
the time he set sail until he arrived off the coast at the mouth of the
Parrot.
He had entered the river at night so as to be unseen by any in the
village at its mouth, and had, after the Dragon was laid up, passed his
time in the forest. Edmund's narration was much more lengthy, and
Egbert was surprised indeed to find that his kinsman owed his freedom
to the jarl whose vessel they had captured at the mouth of the Humber.