Wulfric the Weapon Thane Part 35

We shouted, and at last men fully armed came and let us in. And as I looked back once before the gates closed after me, I thought that the fires were nearer. The Danes were not staying their hands for darkness, for so the terror they spread would be the greater. So also was the bishop's peril therefore.

"Where is Bishop Humbert?" I asked.

"Master, he is in the church, nor will he leave it," said the old steward. "He says he must pray for king and land day and night now till this terror is overpast."

"I will go to him--he must fly," I said.

"Aye, pray him to do so, Wulfric; he will listen to you," said the old man earnestly.

"Have all things ready," I said. "See--there is little time."

"What of the king, master?" asked he, looking at the fires with a white face as he once more opened the gate.

"The king has gone where he would wish to be," I answered very gravely; and he understood me, turning away that I might not see his weeping.

Then Leof and I splashed back through the stream that ran between house and church, and came quickly to the porch. The church is very small and more ancient than I can say, for it is built of flint bound together with such mortar as the Romans used in their castles, hard as stone itself, and it stands in the midst of the Roman camp that guarded the ford, so that maybe it was the first church in all East Anglia, for we use wood; and, moreover, this stone church is rounded at the east end, and has a barrier dividing the body of the building into two, beyond which the as yet unbaptized must sit, as men say. And so strong and thick are the walls that I do not know how they can ever fall.

Now through the narrow windows shone lights, and I heard the sound of chanting. Leof held my horse, and I opened the door gently and went in.

At once there was a shrinking together of a group of men, mostly monks, who stood at the upper end of the church where the chancel begins. They were chanting the third psalm, for help against the heathen, and it faltered for a moment. But they were mostly monks of the bishop's own household, and knew me well enough, and they ended it shortly.

Then there was silence, for they were holding none of the set services, but rather as it seemed doing the bishop's bidding, and praying with him in the best way for the ceasing of this new trouble, as in time of pestilence once I remembered that he made litanies for us. And Humbert himself knelt before the altar during that psalm, fully vested, but as in times of fast and penitence.

When he rose, I came up the aisle towards him, and my mail clanged noisily as I walked in the hush. At the chancel steps I stood, helm in hand, and did reverence, not daring to speak first.

"What is it?" asked the bishop, when he turned and saw me. "Speak, Wulfric, my son. Is all well?"

"I have heavy news, father," I answered. "Close on us are the Danes, and you must fly. Then I will tell you all on the way."

"I will fly no more," he answered, "here I will bide. Is the king at my house?"

"He is not there, father," I said; and then I urged him to fly at once, and with me his monks joined, even going on their knees in their grief. Yet he would not be moved.

"Surely the king will come here," he said, "nor will I go without him."

"Father," I said, "the Danes have taken the king."

"Then must I bide here, and pray and scheme for his release."

Now I knew not how to tell him all, but at last I said:

"Eadmund the king has escaped from the hands of the heathen."

At that the bishop looked long at me, judging perhaps what I meant, by my voice. But the monks rejoiced openly, at first, until they saw what was meant also, and then they trembled.

"Where is he?" he asked, speaking low.

"Father," I said, "this twentieth day of November will be the day when England shall honour a new martyr. Eadmund the King is numbered among them."

"How died he?" then said the bishop, folding his hands.

But now the monks bade him fly, and reasoned with and prayed him.

But he bade them save themselves, for that there would be work for them to do among the heathen.

"As for me, I am an old man," he said, "and I would fain go the same road as the king."

Still they clung to him, and at last, speaking to each by name, and giving each some message to take to cell or abbey where they must go at his bidding, he commanded them; and so, unwillingly, kissing his hand and receiving his blessing, they went one by one, till he and I and one or two laymen besides were left in the little church.

Then he spoke to the other men, and they went also, and we were alone.

"That is well," said the bishop; "tell me all, and then do you fly."

He sat down in his great chair, leaning his head in his hand while I told him all in that quiet place. Never once was there trembling flash from the great jewel of his ring, that shone in the candlelight, to show how moved he was; but when I had ended, the tears were running down his venerable face, and he said:

"Now is there truly one more added to the n.o.ble army of martyrs, and he is at rest. Now do you go, my son."

But I had other thoughts in my mind, and I rose up silently from beside him, saying only: "Not yet, father," and I went down the aisle and out into the darkness to Leof.

"See yonder!" said he pointing, and there was a fresh fire not many miles from us. "I think they scour the country for our bishop. We have little time."

"Tell me, Leof," I said, "have you a mind to live?" for there was somewhat in the man's weary voice that seemed to say that he and I thought alike.

"None, master, after today's work, if I may find a brave man or two to die with me."

"Here is a brave man waiting with a like thought in the church.

Shall you and I die with him?"

"Aye, surely," said Leof quietly.

"Bide here then," I said, and took the horses from him.

I mounted mine and rode to the house, where the steward and one or two others watched from the gateway. I bade the old man call his folk together, and I told them to fly. Many were already gone, now others went at once.

But a few stayed, and to them I said like words as to Leof.

"Hither will the Danes come presently, but in no great force. We may beat them back, and if we do, then maybe the bishop will fly.

But we shall more likely die with him."

"Let us stand by him, come what will," they answered me in steady voices; "better to die with him and our king."

They took their arms and gave me a sword, and we left the horses in the stable, for we might even yet need them. I thought that we could maybe, as I said, beat off the first few Danes, and then that, to save further bloodshed, the bishop would go with us. And if not, we had done our best.

Five men came with me to the ford. When we were at the other side there were but four. One had gone back, and I did not blame him.

Leof sat in the little porch, and so we six went into the church together. The bishop sat where I had left him, but he raised his head when we came up the aisle.

"Nay, my sons," he said, "you must fly. Maybe these men will respect an old man like myself and lonely."

Then I said:

"Father, we would have you say ma.s.s for us ere the light comes again."