Alfgar the Dane or the Second Chronicle of Aescendune

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER VI. THROUGH SUFFERING TO GLORY.

  For a few minutes Alfgar sat like one stunned by the intelligence. Joyand fear were strangely mingled together; well did he rememberSidroc's frequent visits to his father's English home, and that thewarrior had more than once taken him in his infancy upon his knee andsung to him war songs, telling him that he too must be a warrior someday.

  He was roused from his reverie by the voice of Sidroc.

  "Who is your companion?"

  "Bertric, the son of Elfwyn of Aescendune; oh! you will see that nowrong is done to him, will you not? his people saved my life."

  "That they might make you a Christian, knowing that your father wouldsooner you had expired in the flames which consumed his house.

  "No," he added sternly; "he is doomed, he and his alike."

  Alfgar uttered a piteous cry, and appealed so earnestly that one mighthave thought he would have moved a heart of stone, yet all in vain.

  "Does the eagle mourn over the death of the dove, or heed what pangsthe kid may suffer which writhes beneath its talons? If you are of therace of warrior kings, act like one."

  While this was going on the warriors had been selecting some light andsharp arrows and stringing their bows.

  "You have but one target, not two," cried Sidroc, "and scant timewherein to use it."

  "Then you shall have two, for I will die with him," cried Alfgar,comprehending at once that the death by which Saint Edmund of EastAnglia, and many a martyr since, had glorified God, was destined forhis companion, his brother.

  He snatched at a weapon, and rushed to the tree to which the victimwas bound, as if he would save him or perish in the attempt, but agrasp like iron was thrown around him, and he struggled in vain.

  "Bind him, but do him no harm," said Sidroc, "and detain him where hemay see all, and strengthen his nerves for future occasions."

  Against the tree leaned Bertric, pale, yet strangely composed; thebitterness of death seemed to be past, so composed were his youthfulfeatures. The lips moved in earnest, fervent prayer. Once he glancedwith a look of affection, almost of pity, upon Alfgar, and when thelatter made the vain attempt to deliver him, he cried, "Do not grievefor me, dear Alfgar, you cannot save me; you have done your best; prayfor me, that is all you can do."

  His patient courage, so unexpected in one so young, touched hiscaptors, as nothing else would have touched them, and Sidrocapproached him.

  "Bertric of Aescendune, thou mayst save thy life on one condition;dost thou wish to live?"

  The thought of home and friends, of his mother, awoke in his breast,and he replied:

  "Yes, for the sake of those who love me."

  "I know nought of them, neither must thou henceforth, but thou maystlive if thou wilt join our nation and renounce thy Christianity; forI, who have no son, and seek one, will even adopt thee."

  "I cannot deny my faith."

  "Dost thou not fear the pain, the sharp arrows with which they willpierce thee?"

  "I fear them, but I fear eternal death more; God help me!"

  He repeated these last words over and over again, as if the strugglewere very sore.

  "Decide," said Sidroc.

  "I have decided--'In manus tuas, Domine,'" he breathed out, "'commendospiritum meum.'"

  "Let fly," cried the chieftain, "and let the obstinate young fool knowwhat death is."

  Arrow after arrow sped through the air and pierced the legs and armsof the martyr boy, for it was the cruel amusement of the Danes toavoid the vital parts in their living target. The frame of thesufferer quivered with agony, while the lip seemed striving to formthe holy name, which has given strength to thousands of martyrs,whether at the stake, beneath the ferocious beast, or in whatsoevermanner it has pleased God to make His strength perfect in weakness.

  Then Alfgar saw what was the marvellous power of Christianity, andbeheld a heroism utterly beyond the fierce excitement which nerved hiscountrymen for their scenes of carnage and blood; not one of his paganfriends could have suffered as calmly, as patiently--it seemed easierfor the sufferer to bear than for Alfgar to look on; once or twice thelatter gave audible vent to his emotions, but the look which Bertricturned upon him spoke volumes, and he restrained himself lest heshould add to the pain of the victim. He knew not then that theexample before him would nerve him in moments of severest trial, thenfast approaching, that the one accusation urged against theChristians, which he had felt most keenly, that of cowardice, wasanswered in the weak yet valiant boy, who found strength in the nameof Christ to endure all for His sake; neither did his fiercecountrymen know that they were preparing a disappointment for thepagan Anlaf, and for all those of his house and lineage.

  We cannot enter more closely into the secret which gave the martyr hisstrength; we know not the visions of heavenly joy which may haveoverpowered the present pain, we know not whether He who gave thiselaborate framework of flesh and blood, nerve and sinew, miraculouslysuspended the full operation of His laws, as is elsewhere recorded ofother martyrs. Certain it is, that sooner than relinquish Him,Bertric, like Saint Edmund nearly two centuries earlier, yielded hislife to the rage of the enemies of His Lord {vi}.

  The struggle was sharp but short, for Sidroc, to the surprise, and wemust add the disgust, of his compatriots, seized a bow and sent anarrow straight to the heart. One nervous shudder passed through thelimbs, and all was still; they had killed the body, and had no morethat they could do.

  Alfgar gazed with reverence, as well as love, upon the calm featuresfrom which the expression of pain had wholly passed; the light of thefire, mingling strangely with that of the rising full moon, illuminedthem in this their first day of nothingness, for the spirit which hadlived and dwelt in the tabernacle of clay had fled.

  Yet there was a wondrous beauty still lingering over them; they seemedetherialised--as if an angel's smile had last stirred their lines,when the spirit went forth, and left its imprint of wonder, joy, andawe thereon; and Alfgar instinctively turned from them to the bluedepths of heaven above, where a few stars were visible, althoughdimmed by the moonlight; and he seemed to trace his beloved Bertric'spassage to the realms of bliss. A light wind made music in the upperbranches of the oaks, and it seemed to him like the rush of angels'wings.

  It had often been a sharp struggle to him, nursed in heroic times,learned in battle songs, and of the very blood of the vikings, toavoid the feeling that Christianity was not the religion of the brave;now the difficulty was over, and who shall say that the first joy ofthe martyr's soul was not the knowledge that his sufferings hadalready borne such fruit to God!

  And not only was Alfgar reconciled to the reproach of the Cross, hewas also content to be an Englishman, if not in blood, at least inaffection and sympathy as in action.

  An hour passed away; the body remained affixed to the tree; the nightgrew darker, and the hour approached when, under ordinarycircumstances, people retired to rest, and the band commenced itspreparations for carrying out the attack upon Aescendune.

  One hope Alfgar had, and that not a faint one: he knew that the twotheows had escaped unnoticed, and that they would give warning in timefor either defence or escape; their strength at Aescendune was butslight for the former, all the able-bodied men were absent at the seatof war.

  In the excitement of the last hour Alfgar had almost forgotten themeeting before him, but now it occupied his thoughts fully, and hebegan to expect the arrival of Anlaf each moment. He learned from theconversation around him that he and a portion of the band had gone toreconnoitre the position of the prey.

  While Sidroc was somewhat impatiently expecting the arrival of hiscoadjutor, the cry of a raven was heard; it proved to be the signalfor the party to advance, and Sidroc and his men obeyed at once.

  But all their horses were left picketed by the stream, under the careof three of the youngest warriors, and there Alfgar was left, safelybound to a tree, for his captors could not trust him.

  He was strongly, but not cruelly bound; it evidently
was not intendedto hurt him, only to secure him, and he could see that one of thewarriors was especially charged to guard him.

  Oh, how anxiously he strained the senses of sight and hearing for newsfrom the forest party! could he but have given one warning, he wouldwillingly have died like Bertric; all was silence--dread silence--thesleeping woods around gave no token of their dread inmates.

  An hour and a half must have passed, when a bright light, increasingeach minute in intensity, appeared through the trees--then a loud andstartling cry arose--after which all was silence.

  The light seemed to increase in extent and to have two chief centresof its brilliancy, and Alfgar guessed them to be the hall and thepriory.

  But no screams of distress or agony pierced the air from two hundredwomen and children, and Alfgar hoped, oh, so earnestly! that theymight have escaped, warned in time by the theows.

  With this hope he was forced to rest content, as hour after hourrolled by, and at length the footsteps of a returning party wereheard.

  It proved to be only a detachment of the fifty, sent to bring horsesto be loaded with the spoil. Alfgar listened intently to gaininformation, and heard enough to show that the Danes had beendisappointed in some way, probably in their thirst for blood.

  "But how could they have known we were coming? We have marched througha hundred miles of the most desolate country we could find, and havecome faster than any one could have carried the information."

  Such seemed to be the substance of the complaint of the warriors onguard, from which Alfgar felt justified in believing in the escape ofthe theows, and the consequent deliverance of the people, if not ofthe place.

  Half the horses were taken to fetch the plunder, the other half leftwhere they were, for the spot was conveniently situated, and thedistance from Aescendune only about two miles.

  When they had gone, Alfgar heard his guards talking together.

  "What did they say, Hinguar?--not any blood?"

  "No, but plenty of plunder."

  "That is not enough, we want revenge. Odin and Thor will not knowtheir children; our spears should not be bright."

  "They must have been forewarned; Eric said that they had taken away agreat many things."

  "Why could we not trace them?"

  "Because there is no time; we are too far from the army and fleet; wemust return immediately, before the country takes the alarm; rememberwe are only fifty."

  "Yes, but mounted upon the best horses, and the first warriors of ourfamily; we may take some plunder, and send a few Englishmen toNiffelheim, before we get back; Anlaf would not let us stay to touchanything as we came."

  "No; all his desire was to get to this Aescendune."

  "Then the lad whom we made into a target is the only victim, while ourkinsfolk's blood, shed near here, cries for vengeance."

  "He died bravely."

  "Yes, that is a Christian's kind of courage."

  "Well, perhaps some day they will learn to fight, and then--"

  "Their songs tell them of an Alfred who defeated our best warriors."

  "That was long ago; if you go back far enough these English were seakings before they were spoiled by becoming Christians."

  "Hush; I think I hear steps."

  "Who comes?" cried one of the guards, challenging a newcomer.

  "I, Anlaf, your chief."

  And the father of Alfgar appeared on the scene.

  Of average height, Anlaf possessed vast muscular powers; his sinewsstood out like tight cords, and his frame, although robust, was yetsuch that there seemed no useless flesh about him. His hair was a deepgrizzled red, as also his beard, and his eyes were of the same tinge,his nose somewhat aquiline, and his whole features, weatherworn asthey were, were those of one born to command, while they lacked thesheer brutality of expression so conspicuous in some of hissubordinates.

  Ho addressed a few words to the guards, and they led him to Alfgar.

  "Cut him loose," he said.

  They did so.

  He looked mournfully yet sternly on the youth, who himself trembledall over with emotion.

  "Alfgar," he said, "do I indeed see my son?"

  "You do, my father."

  "Follow me; nay, you are wounded--lean on my arm."

  Alfgar's thigh had, it will be remembered, been pierced by an arrow,but the wound was not deep, and with his father's assistance he couldproceed. He knew where Anlaf led. At length they came upon a desertedclearing, and there he paused until Alfgar, who could scarcely keepup, stood by his side.

  Before them the moonbeams fell upon a dark charred mass of ruins inthe centre of the space.

  "This is the spot where father and son should meet again," said Anlafand he embraced his son.