Wulfric the Weapon Thane Part 32

"Now must I stay your rejoicing no longer. Fare you well, lady, and you, n.o.ble Egfrid; I must ride back to Thetford town on my own affairs. Yet I leave you Wulfric. Will you remember hereafter that you spoke with Ingvar the king, and that he was your friend?"

"Aye, surely," answered they both at once.

Then once more the music played, and the little train went on and up the hill, and Ingvar and I stood together for a while looking after them.

"I thank you, King," I said.

"Aye, Wulfric; and maybe you and yours are the only ones who will say that word to me in all this land. Now take my rede, and do you and your folk begone as soon as maybe, for even I cannot hold back men who are not from our own place."

Then I parted from him, going after my people, and thinking that all was well for us, and that surely our king was safe, until I came to where my horse still stood. There over the lane hedge looked that lame white horse that I had seen, speaking as it were in his own way to mine. And when I saw him thus near, it was indeed the king's, and a great fear that he was not far off took hold of me.

CHAPTER XII. IN HOXNE WOODS.

Many of the village folk loitered on the bridge and in the lanes, looking curiously at the Danes, and talking of the wedding and the like. And some of these I saw Ingvar's men questioning, and very soon a knot of them gathered round one man, and there was some loud talking.

Then I would have hastened back, but Ingvar saw me, and waved sternly to me to depart, and slowly enough I went on my way. But I could not forbear looking back when I reached the road to the house.

Only Ingvar was now on horseback, and the men seemed to be swarming over the bridge railings, and climbing under it among the timbers.

Then were shouts, and the village churls began to run every way, and one or two came up the hill towards me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Oh, master," the first man cried, "when the bridal folk went over the bridge on the way to the church, one man looked over into the water, and cried that he saw somewhat sparkle therein like gold, and others looked, and some saw naught, but others said that they saw in the water as it were the image of golden spurs. And the Danes asked us if we saw the king; but we had not. Only one man laughing, in his fear as I think, said that the nearest thing to a crown that he had seen was the glint of golden spurs shining from the water yonder. Then looked the Danes--and now--oh master!"

The man grew white, pointed, and fled.

Haled and pushed and buffeted by the hands of the Danes, a man was dragged over the rail of the bridge from the network of cross timbers among which he had hidden, and I saw that the armour was that of Eadmund the King.

There, in that seemingly secure place, his thanes must have made him hide when his horse fell lame, for doubtless he would not hinder them in their flight, but would have taken sanctuary in the church. From some point in the road they must have seen their pursuers before I cared to look behind me to see who followed, for there was no mistaking the red cloaks that the Danes of the king's courtmen always wear.

This I thought at the time, and long afterwards learnt from one of those thanes that I was right. And it was their doing, not his, for the king would have gone to the church and there warned my people.

But as it chanced there were no men in sight when the king hid, for all were gathered to the thane's house. And I asked that thane if they sent no warning message--and he said they had done so by a certain churl whom they met. But our folk never had it.

Now I knew not what to do, being torn with grief and fear. I dared not cross Ingvar again, lest I should change his mood, mild enough now, to some wild fit of rage, for I had not bided so long in his hall without learning that much of his ways. I stayed till I knew for certain that they had not harmed the king, and so saw him bound, and mounted behind one of the courtmen; and then when I saw them begin to come towards me, I went to the thane's house and told him all, calling him out from the feast.

"Let us mount and rescue the king," I said.

"Then will they kill him--better not. They will but hold him to ransom," the thane said.

I knew his first word was right, and now I left that and urged him to hasten the flight of all the party, bidding him take the road towards the south, ever away from the Danes.

"What will you do?" he asked, for I spoke not of coming with him.

"This," I answered. "I will pledge Ingild's word, as I know I may, for any ransom, going after the Danes and finding Guthrum, who will listen to me."

He thought that well, and then I asked where Humbert the Bishop was. He had gone back to South Elmham at once, and would be far on his road by this time, the thane said.

Then I went out and took a fresh horse from the stables and rode away into the great road. And when I came there, I saw with others the man who told me how the king's hiding place was found.

"How long have the Danes been gone?" I asked.

"Master," he answered, "they have gone back over the bridge, some of them riding forward towards Hoxne."

At that I knew that some plan of Ingvar's was that his men after victory should cross the river at Thetford, and so perhaps strike at Framlingham where the king's household was. But all along the march of the Danish host had been unresting, so that men had no time to prepare for their coming, or even to know what point they would reach next.

Then I sent by this man urgent messages to the thane that they should fly coastwards, crossing the river Waveney, perhaps, so as not to fall into the hands of the host at the first starting, for Ingvar's hors.e.m.e.n would be everywhere south of this and Thetford.

I rode fast over the bridge, for I feared for Humbert our good bishop, and when I came near the church the bells jangled, all unlike the wedding peals that I had heard so lately.

They had found a few late flowers, violets and marigolds and daisies and the like, and had strewn them before the bride as she left the church; and they lay there yet with bright hedgerow leaves to eke them out--but across the path, too, lay the dead body of a poor churl, dressed in his holiday gear, slain by a spear thrust, and the church was burning. Now the men who jangled the bells for help came down in haste, terrified as the fire took hold of the roof, for the church was all of wood and very old.

When they saw me they ran, thinking me yet another of their foes; but I rode after one and caught him, for he would by no means stay for calling, and I asked him what had happened, and where the bishop was.

"Alas, master," the man said, "they have slain my brother and fired the church, and now have ridden after the bishop. They slew my brother because he would not say by which road he had gone; and another told them, being in fear for his life--and our king is taken."

"Did they take the king by the road to South Elmham?"

"Four rode after the bishop with the great man on the black horse who was the leader. The rest went with the king up the track through Hoxne woods, but slowly."

Had I but one or two more with me surely now I should have followed up the king and tried to rescue him. But I think it would have been vain, for Ingvar's men would have slain him rather than lose him.

But most of all I wondered at the boldness of these few men, who, with their leader, dared venture so far from their forces. Well did they know, however, how complete is the rout of a Saxon levy; and I too might have guessed it, since I had fled alone after the first five miles, while all those who had left the town with me scattered all ways.

Now the church was blazing from end to end, and one or two more men had gathered to me, seeing who I was.

"Take up yon body," I said, "and cast it into the church. So shall his ashes lie in holy ground at least. For you and yours must even take to the woods for a while. The Danes will be here."

That I think they did, for they were lifting the body as I went away and rode along the way that the bishop had taken, meaning at least to meet Ingvar, for I feared lest the men who had the king should slay him if they were followed.

Hardly a mile had I gone when Ingvar and his men came riding slowly back. Their beaten horses could do no more, and they had left following the bishop. Ingvar's face was black as night, and as he came he roared at me: "You here again! Now this pa.s.ses all. Did I not bid you stand aside and hinder me not?"

"Aye, King," I answered, coldly enough. "But I cross you not. I have ransom to offer for the king."

"I will have no ransom," he said, very savagely.

"Nevertheless," I said quietly, knowing that his word was not the only one to be spoken on that matter, "let me tell you of it, that you may tell the other chiefs."

"I am the king," he answered, glaring at me.

"Then, King, hear my words, and give them to those under you."

"Speak to this man," he said, pointing to one of the courtmen; for they heard all I said, and he could not refuse to listen altogether to what concerned his fellow chiefs. Then he rode past me, and the men, save that one of whom he spoke, followed him.

Now I was angry as he, but kept that to myself, and waited till he was out of hearing before I looked at the man who waited. And when I did so, the man grinned at me, saying: