CHAPTER XIII. HOW BISHOP HUMBERT JOINED THE KING.
When I began to come to myself it was late afternoon. At first intomy mind came the fancy that I sat on the side of King Eadmund's bedin the king's chambers at Reedham, and that he told me a wondrousdream; how that--and then all of a sudden I knew that it was noshadowy dream, but that I had seen all come to pass, and thatthrough the arrow storm Eadmund had passed to rest.
All round me the trees dripped with the damp November mist thatcreeps from the river, and the smell of dead leaves was in mynostrils, and for a while I lay still, hardly yet knowing true fromfalse, dream from deed. So quiet was I that a robin came andperched close to me on a bramble, whose last leaves were the colourof the bird's red breast, and there it sang a little, so that Iroused to life with the sound. Then swooped down a merlin withflash of gray wings on the robin and took it, and that angered meso that I rose on my elbow to fray it away; and with that the lastcloud left my mind and I knew where I was. Then, too, from where hewaited my waking came Vig, my great Danish dog, who had been tiedat the thane's house, and must have left the flying party to seekme. And he bounded in gladness about me.
Now I found that my bonds were gone, and next that my weapons wereleft me, and that but for cramp and stiffness I had not any tokensof what had befallen. And at first it seemed to me that Ingvar thusshowed his scorn of me, though soon I thought that he had forgottenme, and that it was Raud who had freed me.
I heeded not the dog, looking only in one place. But the body ofthe king was gone, and his arms and mail were gone. The hoofmarksof Ingvar's horses were everywhere; but at last I made out thatthey had gone on through the wood.
Presently the dog growled, looking towards the village, and I heardvoices coming nearer, and with them I heard the tread of a horse.But soon the dog ceased, and began to wag his tail as if to welcomefriends, and when the comers entered the clearing, I saw that theywere Egfrid's men, and that it was my horse that they were leading.My axe was yet at the saddle bow.
"Why, master," said the foremost, "surely we looked to find youslain. This is well--but what has befallen?"
For I must have looked wildly and strangely on them.
"Well would it be if I were slain," I said. "Why did you seek me?"
"We found the horse coming homewards, and one knew that you hadgone into the wood after the king. Yet we would seek you before wefled."
I saw that all were armed, and I thanked them. But--
"What ails you, master?" said the leader of the group.
"They have slain Eadmund the king," I answered, "and they havetaken his body away."
Thereat they groaned, wondering and cast down, and one said:
"They will not have carried him far. Let us search."
We did so, and after a long time we found the king's body in athicket where it had been cast. But his head we could not find,though now I bade my dog search also. He led us westward throughthe wood, until we came to a rising ground, and there we could gono further. For thence we saw the Danish horsemen by scorespressing towards us, searching for cattle and sheep as the armypassed southward. And the farms were blazing in the track that theyhad crossed everywhere.
Then said the men:
"We must fly. We who live must save ourselves, and must come backand end this search when we may."
"Let us bear back the king's body," I said, "and find some hidingplace for it at Hoxne."
So we did, hurriedly, and hid it in a pit near the village,covering it with boards and gravel as well as we could for haste.Then I asked the men where they would go.
"By boat down the river," they said, "and so join the thane and hisparty wherever they might be. They have gone to Beccles, for theyhear that a ship lies there whose master will gladly take them toLondon."
That was good hearing, for so would all be safe. The men pressed meto come with them, but I would not do so, meaning to hasten on tothe bishop's place and make him fly to Beccles and take ship also,starting this very night. So I bid them go, and on that theirleader, a stout freeman named Leof, whom I knew well as one ofEgfrid's best men, said that he would come with me. Nor would hehear of aught else.
"What would Egfrid my master say if I left his brother to goalone?" he asked me simply; and so I suffered him, and we two wenttowards South Elmham together.
Soon Leof saw a horse in a field and caught it, mounting bareback,and after that we went on well enough.
Darkness fell, and all the low clouds were reddened with the lightof fires behind us, and ever as we looked back would be a freshfire and light in the sky, for the Danes were at their work. Wepushed on steadily, but the lanes were rough, and the miles seemedvery long in the darkness; but at last we crossed the Elmham streamand rode to the stockaded house that was the bishop's, and whichstands pleasant and well placed on a little hill beyond the lowground, and with no woodland very near it.
We shouted, and at last men fully armed came and let us in. And asI looked back once before the gates closed after me, I thought thatthe fires were nearer. The Danes were not staying their hands fordarkness, for so the terror they spread would be the greater. Soalso 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 oldsteward. "He says he must pray for king and land day and night nowtill 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 theold 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 awhite face as he once more opened the gate.
"The king has gone where he would wish to be," I answered verygravely; and he understood me, turning away that I might not seehis weeping.
Then Leof and I splashed back through the stream that ran betweenhouse and church, and came quickly to the porch. The church is verysmall and more ancient than I can say, for it is built of flintbound together with such mortar as the Romans used in theircastles, hard as stone itself, and it stands in the midst of theRoman camp that guarded the ford, so that maybe it was the firstchurch in all East Anglia, for we use wood; and, moreover, thisstone church is rounded at the east end, and has a barrier dividingthe body of the building into two, beyond which the as yetunbaptized must sit, as men say. And so strong and thick are thewalls that I do not know how they can ever fall.
Now through the narrow windows shone lights, and I heard the soundof chanting. Leof held my horse, and I opened the door gently andwent in.
At once there was a shrinking together of a group of men, mostlymonks, who stood at the upper end of the church where the chancelbegins. They were chanting the third psalm, for help against theheathen, and it faltered for a moment. But they were mostly monksof the bishop's own household, and knew me well enough, and theyended it shortly.
Then there was silence, for they were holding none of the setservices, but rather as it seemed doing the bishop's bidding, andpraying with him in the best way for the ceasing of this newtrouble, as in time of pestilence once I remembered that he madelitanies for us. And Humbert himself knelt before the altar duringthat psalm, fully vested, but as in times of fast and penitence.
When he rose, I came up the aisle towards him, and my mail clangednoisily as I walked in the hush. At the chancel steps I stood, helmin 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 theDanes, 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 kingat my house?"
"He is not there, father," I said; and then I urged him to fly atonce, and with me his monks joined, even going on their knees intheir grief. Yet he would not be moved.
"Surely the king will come he
re," he said, "nor will I go withouthim."
"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 theysaw 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 daywhen England shall honour a new martyr. Eadmund the King isnumbered 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 forthem to do among the heathen.
"As for me, I am an old man," he said, "and I would fain go thesame road as the king."
Still they clung to him, and at last, speaking to each by name, andgiving each some message to take to cell or abbey where they mustgo at his bidding, he commanded them; and so, unwillingly, kissinghis hand and receiving his blessing, they went one by one, till heand 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 werealone.
"That is well," said the bishop; "tell me all, and then do youfly."
He sat down in his great chair, leaning his head in his hand whileI told him all in that quiet place. Never once was there tremblingflash from the great jewel of his ring, that shone in thecandlelight, to show how moved he was; but when I had ended, thetears were running down his venerable face, and he said:
"Now is there truly one more added to the noble 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 frombeside him, saying only: "Not yet, father," and I went down theaisle and out into the darkness to Leof.
"See yonder!" said he pointing, and there was a fresh fire not manymiles from us. "I think they scour the country for our bishop. Wehave little time."
"Tell me, Leof," I said, "have you a mind to live?" for there wassomewhat in the man's weary voice that seemed to say that he and Ithought alike.
"None, master, after today's work, if I may find a brave man or twoto 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 ortwo others watched from the gateway. I bade the old man call hisfolk together, and I told them to fly. Many were already gone, nowothers 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. Wemay 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 steadyvoices; "better to die with him and our king."
They took their arms and gave me a sword, and we left the horses inthe stable, for we might even yet need them. I thought that wecould maybe, as I said, beat off the first few Danes, and thenthat, to save further bloodshed, the bishop would go with us. Andif not, we had done our best.
Five men came with me to the ford. When we were at the other sidethere 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 churchtogether. The bishop sat where I had left him, but he raised hishead when we came up the aisle.
"Nay, my sons," he said, "you must fly. Maybe these men willrespect an old man like myself and lonely."
Then I said:
"Father, we would have you say mass for us ere the light comesagain."
Now it wanted about an hour to midnight.
"Is there yet time?" he said.
Then I answered that I thought we might wait in peace for so long,and he, knowing nothing of the nearness of the Danes, consented. Sowe bided there in the aisle benches to wait till midnight was past,and soon one or two of the men slept quietly.
Now, when it may have been almost midnight, and the time for masswould soon be come, the bishop, who had been so still that Ithought he slept, lifted his head and looked towards the altar. Andat the same time my dog whined a little beside me.
Then Humbert the Bishop rose up and held out both his hands as toone whom he would greet, and spoke softly.
"Aye, Eadmund, I am coming. Soon shall I be with you."
So he stood for a little while very still, and then went to hisplace again.
Then Leof, who sat next to me, said, whispering:
"Saw you aught, master?"
"I saw nothing, but surely the bishop had a vision."
"I myself saw Eadmund the king stand before the bishop, and he hada wondrous crown on his head," said Leof, speaking as though ofsomewhat not terrible, but good to think on.
"I also saw him," said the old steward from behind me. "I saw himplainly as in life, and I thought he smiled on us."
But I had had no such sight, and it grieved me. Moreover, two ofthe other three men whispered, and I thought one of them told ofthe like vision. And I think, too, that the dog saw it, as theinnocent beasts will see things beyond our ken.
Soon the bishop judged that the time was come for mass, and hecalled softly to me, bidding me serve, for I had often done so forhim in the old days when I was a boy and he was at Reedham, and Iknew well what to do.
Then was said a most solemn mass with that one aged priest, and usfew men present. And all was very quiet round us, for no windstirred the trees on the old rampart.
The bishop's voice ceased with the benediction, and the hushdeepened; but suddenly Leof and I looked in each other's faces. Wehad heard a shout from no great distance, and the blood rushedwildly through us.
Now the bishop rose from his knees, and I took the holy vessels, ashe gave them to me, putting them into their oaken chest in itsniche. And when that was done, he said:
"Now I will not bid you fly, my sons, for I think that somewhat hasbidden you bide with me. And I have seen the king, so that I knowthe time is short. Take therefore the holy vessels and drown themin the deep pool of the stream. I have used them for the last time,but I would not have them profaned by the heathen in theirfeasting."
I knew that this should be done as at Bosham, but already I heardthe shouts yet nearer, and I was loth to leave the church, and sopaused.
"I know your thoughts," said the bishop. "Yet go, as I bid you; itis not far."
So I took the heavy, iron-bound chest on my shoulder and wentquickly, running as well as I might to the stream below therampart, where it curled deep and still under crumbling banks.There I plunged my burden, hearing it sink and bubble into thedepths.
Then I went back, and reached the gap in the rampart that had beenthe gate next the ford, and that was at the east end of the church,so that the porch was far from me. And before I had gone halfway tothe church--over the western rampart spurred a score of horsemen,dimly seen in the half moonlight that was now. And the leader ofthem saw me, and rode straight at me, calling to me to hold, whileI drew my sword and ran to reach the door before he met me; and mydog, which was at my heels, flew at the horse's throat.
But I must fail, and I whirled up my sword to strike--and then along flash of light from a spear point smote me, and over me theman rode, pinning me to the ground with the spear through my leftshoulder. His horse trod on me, and the man wrenched the weaponfrom me as he passed on, and I had but time to call out to Leof towarn him, when a rushing came in my ears, and a blaze of lightbefore my eyes, and the world passed from me.
Then I seemed to stand in darkness, while past me, gloriouslyshining, went Leof, and then the old steward and one of those twomen who
had whispered together, and then Humbert the Bishophimself. But it seemed to me that he paused and looked on me,saying, in a voice that was like music:
"Hereafter--not now. Twice have you offered your life today, andyet there is work for you. Be content to wait."
So he passed, looking kindly at me, and then the blackness cameover me again.
When I came round at last it was high day, and the air was full ofsmoke around me. One sat on a great brown horse looking at me, andby my side cried my dog; and I groaned, whereat the man got off hishorse and came to me. And I knew that it was Hubba, and some of themen I knew were there also.
"Why, Wulfric, friend, how is this? I thought you were dead. Whohas dared to hurt you? What has happened here?"
"You know well," I gasped.
"Nay, I know not; I have but now ridden this way with our rearguard," he answered, seeming to pity me.
"Look in the church and see," I said, groaning. "You Danes are allone in the matter."
"Now I am not the man to harm you, nor would any of our folk," hesaid. "Some of our courtmen found you here, and brought me."
"Slay me and have done," I muttered; for that was all I would havehim do.
"That will I not, Wulfric," he answered; and he called to some menwho were busy about the walls of the church.
The smoke rose thickly from within them, for the burnt roof hadfallen in.
"Take this warrior and bind his wound," he said. "It is Wulfric ofReedham, our friend."
The faintness came over me again when the men raised me, thoughthey tended me gently enough, and I could say naught, though Iwould rather they had cast me into the burning timbers of thechurch, even as I had bidden men do with that poor churl at Hoxne,that my ashes might be with those of our bishop.
So they bore me far, and at last left me in a farm where theypromised all should be safe if they tended me well. And Hubba rodewith them, and came to bid me farewell. But I could not speak tohim if I would, so he went away sadly. And as in a dream I heardhim speak of care for me to the widow and her two sons to whom thefarm belonged, and whom his men had taken unawares, so that theyhad not time to fly.
Presently came the best leech from Ingvar's host and tended mecarefully; and I needed it, for besides the spear wound, my rightthigh was broken, by the trampling of the horse, as was mostlikely.
Thereafter I lay for many weeks, as they told me presently, sickand nigh to death; but being young and strong and no high liver atany time, I came through the danger well enough, and began to mendslowly. Yet my sickness, when I could begin to think, was more ofmind than body, and that kept me back. For long did it lie heavilyon my mind that I should have died with the king, and it was thatsorrow and blame of myself that went sorely against me. But after atime the love of life came back to me again, and I began to seethings as they really were, untouched by a sick man's fancies. Andthen the words of the good Prior of Bosham helped me, teaching methat my life was surely spared for somewhat.
These good folk of the farm tended me most kindly, for they knew meby sight as a close friend of both king and bishop, and for theirsakes were glad to do all they might for me. But I pined for thetouch of that one who had tended me when I was wounded before,Osritha, whom I had learnt to love as she did so.
Sometimes I would think that between her and me had now risen up abarrier stronger than the sea that was washing our shores alike,because that of Ingvar's sister I might not think aught any longer.And then I would set before me how that of these cruel doings norshe nor Halfden had any part, hating them rather, and so wouldcomfort myself. Long are the thoughts that come to a sick man.
Now it was not till February that I might take much heed ofanything, but then I learnt that the Danes had wintered inThetford, and that the land was in peace. The war had passed on tothe Wessex borders and then had slackened, as winter came earnest,and now the north and south folk, Dane and Angle, were foes nolonger openly. But Ingvar and Hubba were at Nottingham, waiting tofall on Wessex, leaving only strong garrisons in our towns.
Then one of the dame's sons would go to London for me, there toseek Ingild and tell him of my hap, for, the lad said:
"Now that these Danes need fight no more they are decent folkenough, and will not hinder a man who has not whereof to berobbed."
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