A Thane of Wessex

by Charles W. Whistler

  CHAPTER X. FLIGHT THROUGH SEDGEMOOR.

  I was glad we had not to go through the town, for the sights there weresuch as Alswythe could not bear to look on. And if that smoke meantaught, it meant that our men were beaten back, and would even now beflying into the place with perhaps the Danes at their heels.

  I rode alongside Wulfhere, and motioned to him to look, and as he did sohe groaned. Then he spoke quite cheerfully to his lady, saying that wehad better push on and make a good start; and so we broke into a steadytrot and covered the ground rapidly enough, ever away from danger.

  I rode next Alswythe, but I would not dare speak to her as vet. She hadher veil down, and was quite silent, and I felt that it would be bestfor me to wait for her wish.

  Beside me trotted the collier, Wulfhere was leading, and next toAlswythe and me came the two maidens. After them came the three men andtwo boys, all mounted, and leading with them the other three horses ofthe twelve we had brought from Stert. They were laden with things forthe journey given by the prioress, and with what they had saved fromMatelgar's hall, though that was little enough.

  Wulfhere would fain have made the collier ride one of these sparehorses; but the strange man had refused, saying that his own legs hecould trust, but not those of a four-footed beast.

  It was seven in the bright May morning when Dane and Saxon met onCombwich Hill. It was midday when I met Wulfhere at the nunnery, and nowit was three hours and more past. But I thought there was yet lightenough left for us to find our way across Sedgemoor, and lodge thatnight in safety in the village near the collier's hut; and so, too,thought Wulfhere when I, thinking that perhaps Alswythe's grief mightfind its own solace in tears when I was not by her, rode on beside himfor a while.

  "Once set me on Polden hills, master," said Wulfhere, "I can do wellenough, knowing that country from my youth. But this is a good chancethat has sent you your friend the collier."

  So he spoke, and then I fell to wondering, if it was all chance, as wesay, that led my feet in that night of wandering to Dudda's hut, thatnow I might find help in sorer need than that. For few there are whocould serve as guide over that waste of fen and swamp, and but for himwe must needs have kept the main roads, far longer in their way toGlastonbury, as skirting Sedgemoor, and now to be choked with flyingpeople.

  Presently Wulfhere asked me if in that village we might find one goodhouse where to lodge the Lady Alswythe. And I told him that there I hadnot been, but at least knew of one substantial franklin, for myplayfellow, Turkil, had been the son of such an one, as I was told. Thecollier, who ran, holding my stirrup leather, tireless on his lean limbsas a deerhound, heard this, and told me that the man's house was goodand strong--not like those in Bridgwater--but a great house forthese parts. So I was satisfied enough.

  Then this man Dudda, finding I listened to him in that matter, began totalk, asking me questions of the fighting, and presently "if I had seenthe saint?"

  I asked him what he meant; and as I did so I heard Wulfhere chuckle tohimself. Then he told me a wild story that was going round the town. Howthat, when all seemed lost, there came suddenly a wondrous vision,rising up before the men, of a saint clad in armour and riding a whitehorse, having his face covered lest men should be blinded by the lightthereof, who, standing with drawn sword on Cannington Hill, so bade themen take courage that they turned and beat the Danes back. Whereupon hevanished, though the white horse yet remained for a little, before it,too, was gone.

  Well, thought I, Grendel the fiend was I but the other day, and now I amto be a saint. And with that I could not restrain myself, but laughed asonce before I had laughed at this same man, for the very foolishness ofthe thing. Yet I might not let Alswythe know that I laughed, and socould not let it go as I would, and I saw that Wulfhere was laughinglikewise, silently.

  Now this is not to be wondered at, though it was but a little thingmaybe. For we had been like a long-bent bow, overstrained with doubt andanxiety, and, now that we were in safety with the lady, it needed butlike this to slacken the tension, and bid our minds relieve themselves.So that laugh did us both good, and moreover took away some of thedowncast look from our faces when next we spoke to our charge.

  When he could speak again, Wulfhere answered the man, still smiling.

  "Aye, man, I saw him. And he was wondrous like Heregar, our master, here."

  And at that the collier stared at me, and then said: "There be paintedsaints in our church. But they be not like mortal men, being no wise sowell-favoured as the master."

  And that set Wulfhere laughing again, for the good monks who paint thesethings are seldom good limners, but make up for bad drawing by brightcolour. So that one may only know saint from fiend by the gold, or thewant of it, round his head.

  Then fell I to thinking again about myself, and what it takes to makeman a saint or a fiend. And that thought was a long thought.

  Now were we come across Parret, and began our journey into the fens. Andpresently we must ride in single file along a narrow pathway which Icould barely trace, and indeed in places could not make out at all. Andhere the collier led, going warily, then came Wulfhere, and thenAlswythe, with myself next behind her to help if need were. After us themaidens, and then the rest.

  So we were in safety, for half a mile of this ground was safer than awall behind us. We went silently for a little while, save for a fewwords of caution here and there. But at last Alswythe turned to me, andlifted her veil, smiling a little to me at last, and asking why we leftthe good roads for this wild place, for though we men were used to thelike in hunting, she knew not that such places and paths could be,brought up as she was in the wooded uplands of our own corner of thecountry.

  I told her how I was to make all speed to Glastonbury, and that this wasthe nearest road: and she was content, being very trustful in both herprotectors. But then she asked if that place should be reached beforedark, having little knowledge of places or distances.

  Then I must needs tell how we were bound for that village where thehermit was, and Turkil of whom I had told her, seeing that it was overlate to reach the town, but that there we hoped to come next day. Andshe said she would fain see those two, "and maybe Grendel also," smilingagain a little to please me. And I knew how much that little jest costher to make, and loved her the more for her thought for me. Then she wassilent for a while.

  Presently one of the men in the rear shouted, and there was a greatsplashing and snorting of horses, and we looked round. One of the ledhorses had gone off the path and was in a bog, and that had set the restrearing with fright.

  So we had to halt, and Wulfhere gave his horse to Dudda to hold while hewent back. And that kept us for a while waiting, and then I could standbeside Alswythe for a little.

  "I have seen the last of my outlaw, they tell me," she said, wanting tolearn how things were with me.

  Yet I was still that, if only for loss of lands and place. Though asOsric's chosen messenger I had that last again for a little, because ofhis need.

  So I told her that that matter must be settled by the Moot, but thatOsric was my friend, and that while I bore his ring at least none mightcall me "outlaw". And at that she was glad, and told me that if she sawLeofwine the hermit she would tell him that his words were coming true.Then she looked hard at me, and said that she had heard from her auntwhy Osric so trusted me, and that she was proud of Heregar. And I saidthat I had but done the things that someone had to do, and which came inmy way, as it seemed to me, wherein I was fortunate.

  At that she smiled at me, seeming to think more of the matter than that,and so talked of other things. Yet she must needs at last come to thatwhich lay nearest her heart, and so asked me if I had seen her father fall.

  And I was glad to say that I had not; adding that it was near CombwichHill, as I had heard, and close to where Osric the Sheriff fought.

  So I think that all her life long she believed him to have fallenfighting in the first line, where Osric was, with his face to the enemy;for all men spoke well
of the sheriff's valour that day, and none wouldsay more than I told her. Yet it may have been that the thane foughtwell, unobserved, in that press, and there is perhaps little blame tomany who fly in a panic.

  Now, that spoken of and passed over, she became more like her braveself, and from that time on would speak cheerfully both to Wulfhere andmyself, as, the horses set in order again, we once more went on ourwinding way, following our guide.

  Glad was I when, just before sunset, we saw the woodland under which hishut was set, and heard the vesper bell ringing far off from the villagechurch. Soon we were on hard ground again, and then I could showAlswythe where I had played Grendel unwittingly, and point the way I hadwandered from Brent.

  There we rested the horses, for we had yet two miles to go, and theywere weary with the long and heavy travelling of the fens. And Alswythewould go into the hut, and there her maidens brought her food and wine,and we stayed for half an hour.

  Wulfhere and I looked out towards Bridgwater town, now seeming under thevery hills, in the last sunlight. Smoke rose from behind it, but thatwas doubtless from Cannington; yet there were other clouds of smokerising against the sun, and as he looked at these the old warrior saidthat he feared the worst, for surely the Danes were spreading over thecountry and that need for them to keep together was gone.

  "If we see not Bridgwater on fire by tomorrow," he said, "it will be awonder."

  But we knew that we could bide here for this night safe as if no Daneswere nearer than the Scaw.

  After that rest we rode on through the woodland path, down which theyhad come to exorcise me, till we saw before us in the gray twilight thechurch and houses of the village, pleasant with light from door andwindow, and noise of barking dogs, as we crossed the open mark [viii].

  Dudda the Collier led us to the largest house which stood on the littlecentral green round which the buildings clustered, and there the doorstood open, and a tall man with a small boy beside him looked out to seewhat was disturbing the dogs. Behind them the firelight shone red on apleasant and large room where we could see men at supper.

  And the light shone out on me, for the boy sprang out from his father'sside, shouting that it was "Grendel come back again", and running to meto greet me.

  So we found a welcome in that quiet place, and soon the good franklin'swife came out, bustling and pitiful in her care for Alswythe and sorrowfor her need to fly from her lost home, for it took but few words toexplain what had befallen.

  They brought us in, and the thralls left supper to tend our horses,though Wulfhere would go with them to see that done before he joined usin the wide oak-built room that made all the lower floor of the house.Overhead was the place where Alswythe and her maidens should be, andbuilt against the walls outside were the thralls' quarters, save for afew who slept in the lower room round the great fire.

  Now, how they treated us it needs not to be told, for it was in the wayof a good Somerset franklin, and that is saying much. But that night hewould talk little, seeing that I and Wulfhere were overdone with want ofsleep. Indeed it was but the need of caution that had kept me fromfalling asleep on my horse more than once on the road. So very soon theybrought us skins and cloaks, and we stretched ourselves before the fire,and warmed, and cleansed, and well refreshed with food and drink, fellto sleep on the instant.

  Yet not so soundly could I sleep at first, but that I woke once,thinking I heard the yells of the Danes close on us: but it was somefarmyard sound from without, and peaceful.

  Then I slept again until, towards dawning I think, I awoke, shivering,and with a great untellable fear on me, and saw a tall, gray figurestanding by my couch. And I looked, and lo it was Matelgar the Thane.

  Then I went to rouse Wulfhere, but my hand would not be stretched out,and the other men slept heavily, so that I lay still and looked in thedead thane's face and grew calmer.

  For his face was set with a look of sorrow such as I had never seenthere, and he gazed steadfastly at me and I at him, and the grief in hisface did but deepen. And at last he spoke, and the voice was his own,and yet not his own.

  "Heregar, sorely have I wronged you," he said, "and my rest is troubledtherefor. Yet, when I heard what you had done for mine last night, myheart was sore within me, and I repented of all, and would surely havemade amends. And now it is too late, and my body lies dishonoured onParret side while I am here. Yet do you forgive, and mayhap I shall rest."

  Then I strove to speak, bidding him know that I forgave, but I couldnot, and he seemed to grow more sad, watching me yet. And when I sawthat, I made a great effort, and stretching my hand towards him signedthe blessed sign in token that that should bid me forgive him, soleaving my hand outstretched towards him.

  And then his face changed and grew brighter, and he took my hand in his,as I might see, though I could feel nought but a chill pass on it, as itwere, and spoke again, saying:

  "It is well, and shall be, both with you and me. And when you need me Ishall stand by you once again and make amends."

  Then he was gone, and my hand fell from where his had been, andstraightway I slept again in a dreamless sleep till Wulfhere roused mein the full morning light.

  And in that light this matter seemed to me but a dream that had come tome. Yet even as I should have wished to speak to Alswythe's father, hadI done, and I would not have had it otherwise. Then the dream in a waycomforted me, being good to think on, for I would not willingly be atenmity with any man, or living or dead. But that it was only a dreamseemed more sure, because in it Matelgar had said he knew of my savingAlswythe. And Wulfhere and I had agreed not to tell him that. Also I hadlittle need of Matelgar living, in good truth, and surely less need ofhim now that he was gone past making amends.

  Down into the great chamber to break her fast with us came Alswythe,bright and fresh, and with her grief put on one side, for our sakes whoserved her. And Turkil talked gaily with both Alswythe and me andWulfhere, and would fain tell all the story of how he sought thefire-spitting fiend and was disappointed.

  Then I missed the collier, and asked where he was. He had gone to bringthe good hermit the franklin told me, and would be back shortly.

  Now, when we had broken our fast it was yet very early, and thevillagers must needs hear all the news of the great fight and terrorbeyond the fens, and as they heard, a growl of wrath went round, and themen grasped spade and staff and fork fiercely, bidding the franklin leadthem at once to join the levy.

  But Wulfhere told them that they needs must now wait a second raising,and that I was even now on my way to Eanulf the Ealdorman to tell him ofthe need. Then the franklin asked that he and his might go with me, butI, seeing that for an outlaw to take a following with him was not to bethought of, bade them wait for word and sure tidings of the gatheringplace.

  While we talked thus the little bell in the church turret began to ring,and we knew that the hermit, Leofwine the priest, had come, and wouldsay mass for us. Then, perhaps, was such a gathering to pray for relieffor their land, as had not been since those days, far off now, when theBritish prayed, in that same place, the like prayers for deliverancefrom my own forbears. And as I prayed, looking on the calm face of theold man who had bidden me take heart and forgive, I knew that lastnight's dream was true in this, that I had forgiven.

  So when the mass was over, and Wulfhere had begged Alswythe to takeorder at once for our going on our journey, I found the old man, andcould greet him with a light heart. And he, looking on me, could read,as he had read the trouble, how that that had passed, and asked me ifall was well, as my face seemed to say.

  I told him how I had fared, and how my outlawry, though still in force,was now light on me as the sheriff's messenger--though this I thoughtwas but because, flying with Alswythe, I might as well take the messageas one who could be less easily spared.

  Then he said that already he deemed the prophecy that had been given himwas coming true, and spoke many good and loving words to me tostrengthen my thoughts of peace withal.

  Presen
tly he looked at our horses, now standing ready at the franklin'sdoor, and would have me go back with him into his own chamber in thelittle timber-walled church. And there he found writing things in achest, and wrote on a slip of parchment a letter which he bade me giveto the bishop when I came to him, signing it with his name at the end,as he told me, though I could not read it, for one who has been bred ahunter and warrior has no need for the arts of the clerk. Indeed, I hadseen but two men write before, and one was our old priest at Cannington,and the other was Matelgar, and I ever wondered that this latter shouldbe able to do so, and why of late he was often sending men with letters.Yet it seems to me now that surely they had to do with his schemes thathad so come to nought.

  Then the old man blessed me, telling me again that I should surelyprosper unless that I failed by my own fault, and that it seemed to himthat there was yet work for me to do that should set me again in myplace, and maybe higher.

  So talking with him, Wulfhere called me, and I must needs say farewellto Turkil and his father, and they bade us return, when the time came,by this way back to our own place. And Turkil wept, and would fain havegone with us, but I promised to see him again, and waved hand to himbefore the broad meadows of the mark were passed, and the woods hid thevillage from us.

  Then did Alswythe, in her kindness, fall into a like mistake as that Ihad made with the boy; for she turned to me, smiling, and said that shewould surely take him into her service at Stert, and see to his traininghereafter, but then remembered that she had no longer home, and hersmile faded into tears.

  My heart ached for her, knowing I could give her no comfort. After thatwe rode in silence, and quickly, for the track was good.

  Now there is little to tell of that ride till we reached the hilltopthat Wulfhere knew, and where we could look down on the land we were tocross, and fancy we could see Glastonbury far away. Here Dudda theCollier's task was ended, and I called him to me, pulling out the pursethe good prioress had given me, that I might give him a gold piece forhis faithful service.

  He stood before me, cap in hand, and I gave him a bright new coin, andhe took it, turning it over curiously.

  "Take it, Dudda," I said, "you have earned it well."

  Then he grinned in his way, and answered: "It is no good to me, master.I pray you give me silver instead. Like were I to starve if life lay inthe changing of this among our poor folk."

  So I turned over the money to find silver, but there was not enough, andso I took out that bag which I had found in the roadway, and had notopened since, having almost forgotten it. There was silver and copperonly in that, and I began to give him his reward.

  But still the man hesitated, and seemed anxious to ask me something,and, while I counted out the money, he spoke: "Master, the men call youHeregar, and that is an outlaw's name."

  "Well." said I, fearing no reproach from that just now, and being surethat by this time the man knew all about me from our thralls with us."Heregar, the outlawed thane I was, and am, except that the sheriff hasbid me ride on his business."

  "Then, master," said he, "give me no reward but to serve you. No man'sman am I, either free or unfree, but son of escaped thralls who are deadlong ago. Therefore am I outlaw also by all rights, and would fainfollow you. And it seems to me that you will need one to mind your steed."

  Now this was a long speech for the collier, who, as I had learnt, couldhold his tongue: and we were short-handed also, with all these horses.Therefore I told him that it should be as he would, for service offeredfreely in this way was like to be faithful, seeing that there had beentrial on both sides. But I gave him four silver pennies, which he wouldhave refused, but that I bade him think of them as fasten pennies, whichcontented him well.

  This, too, pleased both Alswythe and Wulfhere, who were glad of theaddition to our party. So we rode on. But many were the far-off columnsof smoke we looked back on beyond Parret, before the hills rose behindus and hid them.