So he went away, laughing at me, but afterward I did make him promise that if he needed a new ship at any time he would tell me, so that I might give him one for the sake of the first voyage in the old vessel, and that pleased him well.

Now I told Ina this, being always accustomed to refer anything to him, and he was not surprised to hear that the Norseman would not take the gold.

"And if I may advise," he said, "I would not offer a share to Erpwald; for, in the first place, he does not expect it, seeing that the captive is yours only, by all right of war; and in the next, he deems that you have already given him Eastdean, and he is not so far wrong. So it would hurt him. He will be all the happier now that he will know that you have withal to buy four Eastdeans, if you will."

So against my will, as it were, that day made a rich man of me. Presently I gave the wealth into the hand of Herewald the ealdorman, and he so managed it, being a great trader in his way, that it seemed to grow somewise, and I have a yearly sum therefrom in ways that are hard to be understood by me, but which seem simple enough to him.

I handed over Mordred to the Norsemen to keep until Thorgils returned with the ransom, for before we could rest with the sword in its scabbard again it was needful that all care should be taken for the holding of the new land we had won, and Ina would see to that himself. Here and there we had fighting, but the Welsh never gathered again in force against us, and at last we held every town and camp from sea to sea along the line of the hills that run from Exmoor southwards, and there was our new border.

Jago went back to Exeter, seeing that his house was burnt at Norton with the rest of the town, and I heard afterwards that there he had found his wife, whom he had sent away when the certainty of war arose. I was in no trouble for him, as he had houses elsewhere.

But we sent Erpwald back to Glastonbury in all haste, and he was in nowise loth to go, as may be supposed. One may also guess how he was received there. Then, as soon as Ina came back with us all, the ealdorman set to work to prepare afresh the wedding that was so strangely and suddenly broken in upon, and it was likely to be little less joyous that it had been so.

On the evening before the wedding the ealdorman came to me, when the day's duties were over, and said that Elfrida wished to speak to me. So I went, of course, not at all troubling that the ealdorman could not tell me what was to be said, for there were many things concerning tomorrow's arrangements with which I was charged in one way or another.

So I found her waiting me alone, in that chamber off the hall where her father and I spoke of the poisoning.

"I have not sent for you for nothing, Oswald," she said, blushing a little as if it were a hard matter she had to speak of. "There is somewhat on my mind that I must needs disburden."

"Open confession is good," I said, laughing—"what is it?

"Well—have you forgotten your vow of last Yuletide?"

"Not in the least. Would you have me do so? For that were somewhat hard."

"No—but yes, in a way."

There she stopped for a moment, and I waited for her to go on, not having any very clear notion of what was to come. She turned away from me somewhat, letting her fingers play over one of the tall horns on the table, when she spoke again.

"It has been in my mind that you—that maybe you thought that I have been hard on you—in ways, since we spoke in the orchard."

So that was what troubled her, but I did not see why she should have spoken of it, seeing that a lady has no need at all to justify her ways in such a matter, surely.

"No," I answered, "that I never thought. If my vow displeased you, or maybe rather if I displeased you thereafter, I had no reason to blame any one but myself for the way in which it was needful that I should be shewn that so it was. It was just the best thing for me, for it cured me of divers kinds of foolishnesses."

"That is what I would have heard you say," she said with a light-hearted laugh enough, while her face cleared. "Now I can say what I will. Do you know that you have kept your vow to the full already?"

"Not at all. There are long years before you yet, as one may hope."

"Ay, Oswald, and through you those years seem bright to look forward to. See, through you has come Erpwald, and now you have kept his life for me at risk of your own. All my life long I shall thank you for those two things. Surely your vow is fulfilled, for this will be lifelong service. There is more that I would say to you, but I cannot."

She turned away again, weeping for very happiness, as I think, that could not be told, and I had no word to speak that was worth uttering, though I must say somewhat.

"It will be good to think of you two together—"

"In the place you have given us," she broke in on me. "Love and a home for all my life! What more could your vow have wrought than that? Let me go, Oswald, or I shall weep. It was a good day that sent you to be my champion."

Then she stepped swiftly to me and kissed me once, and fled, and I do not mind saying that I was glad that she had gone. Too much thanks for things that had been done more or less by chance, and as they came to hand as it were, without any special thought for any one, are apt to make one feel discomforted.

The wedding on the morrow I have no skill to tell of, but as every one has seen such a thing, that hardly matters. I will only set down that never had I seen such a bright one, or so good a company, there being all the more guests present because many who came to the levies stayed on to do honour to the ealdorman and his daughter. Elfrida looked all that a bride should, as I thought, and also as the queen said in my hearing, so that I think I cannot be wrong. I gave her Gerent's great gold armlet, having caused it to be wrought into such a circlet for her hair as any thane's wife might be well pleased to wear.

As for Erpwald, he was dazed and speechless with it all, but none heeded him, though indeed he made a gallant groom, for that is the usual way as regards the bridegroom at such times. Which is perhaps all the more comfortable for him.

Then was pleasant feasting, and after it some of us who had been Erpwald's closer friends here rode a little way with those two wedded ones on the first stage of their homeward journey. The Sussex thanes and their men were with them as guard, and they rode on ahead and left us to take our leave.

And by and by, after a mile or two, the rest turned back with gay farewells, and left me alone with the two, for they knew that I was their nearest friend, and would let me be the last to speak with them. We had not much to say, indeed, but there are thoughts, and most of all, good wishes, that can be best read without words.

"There is but one thing that I wish," Elfrida said at the very last, even when I had turned my horse and was leaving them.

"What is that?" I asked, seeing that there was some little jest coming.

"Only, that I had seen the Princess Nona."

I laughed, and so they were gone, and I went back to Glastonbury, wondering if Elfrida guessed what my thoughts of that lady might be. I had not said much of her to any one, except as one must speak of people with whom one has been for a while.

Strangely enough had come to pass that which I vowed to do for Elfrida, though not in the way which had been in my mind when I drank the Bragi bowl. Presently, when I came back to the ealdorman's house, I had to put up with some old jests concerning that vow, which seemed to others to have come to naught, but they did not hurt me.

Three days after the wedding Thorgils came to Glastonbury with his charge, and glad enough I was to hand it to Herewald, as I have already said, and to get the care of it off my mind. Yet I will say that by this time there had come to me a knowledge concerning this gold which was pleasant. Only the other day I had been but the simple captain of house-carles, though I was also the friend of a mighty king, and foster son of a prince indeed, and that had been all that I needed or cared for. Lately there had come a new hope into my life, and it was one that was far from me at that time. But now, when the time came for me to go to Dyfed for Owen, I should go with power to choose lands and a home for myself and for that one whom I dared now to ask to share it. And that was the only reason that I cared to think of the new riches at all. If that hope came to naught I should certainly care for them or need them little enough, for my home would be the court as ever.

Better to me than the gold was a letter from Owen. The honest Norseman had gone out of his way to put in at Tenby, knowing that I should be glad to have news thence, and not troubling about Mordred who was waiting release, at all. So he had seen Owen, who was well as might be, he said.

"With two holes in one thigh, and his left arm almost growing again like a crab's claw. I do not think that he was in the least surprised to hear of the war, nor indeed of its end. All he wanted to know was of you, as it seemed, at least from me. So it was also with Howel and the princess. It was good to see their faces when I told them of the fight at the camp, and how you won glory there. Nevertheless, I was half afraid that I made the fighting a bit too fierce over Erpwald, for the princess turned pale enough in hearing how you were knocked over. You ken that I am apt to make the most of things when I am telling a story. My father was just the same, and maybe my grandfather before that, for saga telling runs in the family."

I laughed at him, but in my mind I thought of the day when I saw Elfrida pale as she heard of Erpwald's danger at Cheddar, and I wondered.

Then I turned to Owen's letter, and it was long and somewhat sad, as may be supposed, for this war had a foreshadowing of long parting between him and me. But he said that he had known it must come, having full knowledge, before Morfed the priest took him, how the war party were getting beyond control. Wherefore he saw that he and I had been saved much sadness by his absence, and it remained to be seen how we should fare when he returned. At least, we should meet soon in Dyfed, for he mended apace.

I need not tell all of that letter, for it was mostly between us twain. But in it were words for Ina concerning peace, such as an ambassador from the British might well speak, and they helped greatly toward settlement by and by. And so the letter ended with greetings from Howel and Nona, and many words concerning their kindness to him.

But when I spoke to Thorgils of crossing soon to bring Owen back he shook his head.

"I suppose he has even made the best of things in the letter, but if he can bear arms again by Yule it will be a wonder," he said. "Yet he is well for so sorely wounded a man."

Then he promised that it should not be so long before I heard news from Owen again, for he had yet to make several voyages before the winter. And he kept his promise well, for I think that he made one more than he would have done, for my sake solely, though he will not own it, lest the long winter should seem lonesome to me.

For I will say at once that Owen did not come back by Yule. All that went on in the Cornish court I do not know, but it seemed that Gerent thought it well that he should not return until the last hope of victory over Wessex had passed from among his people; and it may be that he did not wish it to be thought that Owen had any hand in bringing about the peace which he must needs make. He would see to that, and take all the blame thereof himself, caring nothing for any man, if blame there should be from those who set the war on foot.

So although I waited to hear from time to time as Thorgils came and went, getting also word from him when some Danish ship crossed to Watchet, nought was said of Owen's return. And I was not sorry, for as things went I could not have gone to Dyfed to meet him.

There was the new land we had won to be tended, and for a time the planning for that was heavy enough. All men know now how it ended in the building of the mighty fortress of Taunton at the southern end of the Quantock hills, to bar the passage from West to East for all time. There is no mightier stronghold in all England than this, at least of those built by Saxon hands, and there has been none made like it since Hengist came to this land. It stands some two miles from where the Romans set Norton, for they had the same need to curb the wild British as have we, and the place they chose for their ways of warfare needed little amending for ours.

While that was building, Ina dwelt in the house of some great British lord at the place we call South Petherton, not far off from the fortress. As the place pleased him, presently he had a palace built there for himself, which, as it turned out, Ethelburga the queen never liked at all. However, that came about in after years. All day long now he was at Taunton, taking pride in overseeing all, so that there is no wonder that the place is strong.

As for me, I was with Herewald the ealdorman on the new boundary line with the levies and the king's own following, guarding against any new attack, and trying to win the Welsh to friendship. That was mostly my work, as I knew the tongue, and they knew me as Owen's foster son. We had some little trouble with them for a time, but soon, as they came to know the justice of the king, and that he did not mean to drive them from the land, they became content, and indeed there were many who welcomed a strong hand over them.

Presently there would be Saxon lords over the manors as Ina found men to hold them, but there would be no change beyond that. Freeman should be freeman, and thrall thrall, as before, each in his old holding undisturbed, with equal laws for Saxon and Briton alike.

Now, one day when I came to the house of the king at Petherton on some affairs I needed his word concerning, presently there came a message to me that Ethelburga the queen would speak with me, and, somewhat wondering, I was taken to her bower, and found her waiting for me.

"Oswald," she said, after a few words of greeting, "there is one who wronged you once, and has come to ask for your forgiveness. What answer shall I give?"

"Lady," I said, "I can remember none who need forgiveness from me now. Those who wrought ill against Owen have it already, or are gone. I have no foes, so far as I know, myself, and truly no wrongs unforgiven."

"Nay, but there is this one."

"Why then, my Queen, that one must needs be forgiven, seeing that I know not of wrong to me."

I laughed a little, thinking of some fault of a servant, or of a man of the guard, of which she had heard. But she went to a settle hard by and swept aside a kerchief which lay on it as if by chance, and under it were two war arrows. And I knew them at once for those which had been shot into our window at Norton and had vanished.

Now I will say that the sight of these brought back at once some of the old feeling against those who, like Tregoz, had sought Owen's life and mine, and my face must needs show it.

"Ay," the queen said, seeing that, "these are indeed a token that forgiveness is needed."

Then I remembered that there was but one who could come here with these arrows, though how she had them I could not do more than guess. It could be none other than Mara, the daughter of Dunwal.

Then suddenly, from among the ladies at the end of the room, one who was dressed in black rose up and came toward me, and she was none other than Mara herself, thin and pale indeed, and with the pride gone from her dark face. Her voice was very low as she spoke to me, and her bright black eyes were dim with tears.

"I do not ask you to forgive my uncle, or indeed my father—for what they planned and well-nigh wrought is past forgiveness," she said, "Forget those things if it be possible, but forgive my part in them."

"I have done that long ago, lady," I said in all truth.

I knew that she must have been made use of by the men in some ways, but I did not think at all that she had wished ill as they wished it, since I knew that Morfed had trained the Welsh girl to the deed at Glastonbury.

"Ay," she said sadly. "But forgetfulness is not forgiveness. You do not know how I carried messages between my father and uncle, when one was in bondage and the other in hiding, so that their plans were laid through me. I am guilty with them. Therefore I would hear you say at least that you will try to forgive before I pass from the world into the cloister where I may pray for them, and for you also, if I may."

Then I said, with a great pity on me for this lady whom I had known so proud and careless:

"Lady, I do forgive with all my heart. I do not think that you could have stood aloof from your father, and I do not think that you are so much to blame in all the trouble as you would seem to make me believe. In all truth I do forgive."

She looked searchingly at me while I spoke, and what she saw in my face was enough to tell her that she had all she needed, and with one word of thanks she went back to the ladies, and one of them took her from the room.

"She goes into my new nunnery at Glastonbury tomorrow, Oswald," the queen said, "and now she will rest content. It was a good chance that brought you here today, my Thane, for she had begged me to send for you, and that I could hardly do, seeing that one knows not where to find you from day to day. I could tell her truly that I knew I could win your forgiveness: but that would not have been enough for her, I think."

So Mara passed into the nunnery, and unless she has been one of the veiled sisters whom one sees in their places at the time of mass, I do not know that I have ever set eyes on her again. I do not think that it was the saddest end for her.



CHAPTER XVII. HOW OSWALD FOUND A HOME, AND OF THE LAST PERIL OF OWEN THE PRINCE.

All that winter, and through the spring, men toiled at the great fortress, but Ina went back presently to Glastonbury, or to others of his houses, after his wont, now and then riding even from far to us to see how all went. And I was fully busy in the new province, for we made a roll of those who owned land there, that all might be known to the king, and that matter was set in my hand for those reasons which had made me useful already in quieting the country. Moreover, the years at Malmesbury had made me able to write well, and now I was glad that I had learnt, though indeed it went sorely against the grain with me to do so at the time. Truly, I had to go on this errand of the king's with sword in one hand and pen in the other, but I daresay I did better, and fared less roughly, than would one who could not speak to the British freemen in their own tongue. At least, if a man was sullen when I came to him, he was, as a rule, pretty friendly when I left, for he knew that no harm was meant him, and that to be on this roll meant that on his lands he was to bide in peace.

And I may not forget that Evan helped me greatly in the matter, for he knew almost all of the best freemen.

When the walls were strong, in the midst of the new fortress they built a good house for Ina, and we thought that he meant to live here at times, for he had it fully furnished, even to the rushes on the floor, after Easter. By that time I had leisure to spend the holy season with the court at Glastonbury, for there was peace everywhere. And there I had a visit from Thorgils, who brought good news from across the sea. He had made his first voyage of the year, and had seen Owen, who was himself again, if yet weak.

He had not written to me, but sent word by the Norseman that he did but wait for me to come for him, if I might. If not he would come alone; but it seemed to him that we should have to part when we reached this side of the channel, for he must go to Gerent at once.

Next day Ina and the queen must needs pass to Taunton to see the place, for he said that when I might go for Owen depended on its readiness. So we rode with but a small train, meaning, after seeing the fortress, to go on to Petherton for the night, which was quite a usual plan with the king nowadays, since all this building was on hand.

So we went round all the walls, and saw the new bridge across the Tone River, and then went into the hall that stood, as I have said, within the walls of the fortress itself. There all was ready for the king, even to a fire on the hearth in the middle of the great hall, which was fully as large as that at Glastonbury itself. I had not seen this house of late, and now the king would have me go all over it and tell him what I thought thereof.

Indeed, there was nought to say of it but good, for it would be hard to find one better planned in all Wessex, as I think, whether in the house itself, or about the buildings that were set along its walls without for the thralls and workshops, or in the stables and other outhouses. It was indeed such a house as any thane would be proud to hold as his home.

Presently, therefore, after seeing all, the king and queen and I stood by the hearth in the hall again, and Ina asked me my thoughts of it. And I told him even as I have written, that all was well done and completely.

"Why, then," he said, "let me come and stay here now and then."

I laughed at that.

"I have heard, my King, of house-carles who led their masters, but that is not our way. Where the king goes the household follows, in Wessex."

He laughed also, for a moment.

"Long may it be so," he said. "Nevertheless, I think that I shall have to be as a guest here now and then."

Then Ethelburga smiled at my puzzled face, and spoke in her turn.

"Why, Oswald, it seems to me that you are the only man in all Wessex who does not know who is to live here."

"It is always said that the king himself will make it one of his palaces, lady," I answered.

Then Ina set his hand on my shoulder, and made no more secret of what he meant.

"I want you to bide here, my Thane, and hold this unquiet land for me. There is not one who can better rule it from this fortress for me than yourself; and the house and all that is in it is yours, if you will."

Then for a moment came over me that same feeling of loneliness that had kept me from taking Eastdean again, and with it there was the thought that I was not able to take so great a charge on me.

"How can I do this, my King?" I said, not knowing how to put into words all that I felt. "I am not strong enough for such a post."

"Nay," he said gravely. "It is said of me that I do not do things hastily, and it is a true word enough, seeing that I know that I often lose a chance by over caution, maybe. Answer me a question or two fairly, and I think you will see that I may ask you to bide here."

Then he minded me that I alone of all his athelings knew this Welsh tongue as if born thereto, and also that men knew me as the son of Owen the prince, so that the Welsh would hardly hold me as a stranger. That I had found out in these last months while I had been numbering the freemen and their holdings; and as I went about that business I had seen every one that was of any account, so that already I knew all the land I had to rule better than any other. That task, however, had been set me, as I know now, in preparation for this post.

I had no answer to make against all this concerning myself, for it was true enough, but I did not speak at once. It did not follow that I could rule as I should, even with all this to help me, and I knew it.

"What, is more needed?" Ina said. "Well, I at least have had a letter from Owen by the hand of Thorgils yesterday. See what is written in it."

He set the writing in my hand, and turned away while I read it. It was meant for my sight as well as his, for he had written to Owen concerning this post for me. And after I had read it all I could say no more, for Owen told how he would help me in all ways possible, and also that he knew how Gerent himself would be more content in knowing that no stranger was to be over the land he had lost.

So I gave the letter back to the king's hand, and said plainly: "I think that I may not hold back from what you ask me, my King, after all that Owen says. Nevertheless I—"

"But I am certain that you will do well," said Ina. "Now I shall miss my captain about the court, but I need him here. So you must even stay. There is Owen on the west to help you keep the peace in one way, and Herewald on the east to help you with the levies if need be. Fear not, therefore. It is in my mind that you will have an easier time here than any other I could have bethought me of, if I had tried."

Then, as in duty bound, I knelt and kissed the hand of the king in token of homage, and he smiled at me contented.

"You will be the first ealdorman of Devon, Oswald, when the Witan meets," he said; for it needed the word of the council of the thanes to give me the rank that was fitting.

Then when I rose up and stood somewhat mazed with the suddenness of it all, Ethelburga the queen, who had stood by smiling at me now and then, said: "This is your hall, Oswald, remember. But it needs one thing yet. You were wrong when you said it was complete."

I looked round and saw nothing wanting, from the hangings on the wall to the pile of skins on the high place seats.

"There are the pegs for the arms of the house-carles," I said, "but no arms thereon yet. That will soon be mended. And I have to set up a head or two of game, to make all homely, maybe?"

"More than that, Oswald," she said, laughing. "Strange how dense a man can be! It is a mistress who is needed. Else the women of Devon will have no friend at court."

I laughed, a little foolishly, perhaps, not having any answer at all, and Ina smiled and went out into the court by himself, saying that he would not meddle with such matters. So I was left to the queen by the hearth.

"Jesting apart, Oswald," she said, "I had hoped that vow of yours would have led to somewhat, and whose fault it was that nought came of it I do not know. However, no harm seems to have been done, and that may pass, though indeed Elfrida was a favourite of mine. But see to it that next time you are no laggard. Now, when are you going to Dyfed?"

Then I suppose my face told some tale against me, for the queen laughed softly.

"Soon, Oswald?"

I could not pretend to misunderstand her then, but when it was put to me so plainly it did not seem to me all so certain that my suit would fare better than my vow. I had no fear once that the last would not have been welcome, and was mistaken enough. Now, perhaps because I was in real earnest, I did doubt altogether.

"What, do you fear that there is no favour for you, my Thane?" Ethelburga said, with a smile lingering round the corners of her mouth.

"I do not see how there can be," I answered. "I am not worthy. It is one thing for the princess to be friendly with me, and another for her to suffer me to look so high."

I spoke plainly to the queen, as I was ever wont since I was a child in her train and she the kindly lady to whose hand I looked for all things, and from whom all my earlier happinesses had come. She was ever the same, and I know well that her name will be remembered as one of our best hereafter. It was almost therefore as mother to son that she spoke to me, rather than as mistress to servant.

"But you had no doubts at all concerning Elfrida."

"That was foolishness, my Queen, and I see it now. This is different altogether."

"I know it, and it was my fault in a way. Still, you were then but the landless house-carle captain, and yet you dared to look up to the daughter of the ealdorman. Now you are the Thane of Taunton, and to be the first ealdorman of Saxon Devon, with house and riches at your back, moreover. And she of whom you think is but the daughter of a Welsh princelet."

"Nay, my Queen, but she is Nona."

"Go your ways, Oswald," the queen said, laughing—"of a surety you are in earnest this time. Nay, but I will jest no more, and will wish you all speed to Pembroke. If there is no welcome, and more, for you there, I am mistaken, for you deserve all you wish."

So we spoke no more, but joined the king. Presently, when I came to think of what the queen had said of my changed rank and all that, I saw that she was right, and it heartened me somewhat. Not that I thought it would make any difference to Nona, but that it surely must to Howel, which was a great matter after all.

In a week Ina gathered the Witan of Somerset here to Taunton, first that the last stone of the fortress should be laid with all solemnity and due rites, even as the foundation had been laid with the blessing of Holy Church on it, and then that he might take counsel for the holding of the new land. Then in full Witan I did homage and took the oaths that were fitting, and so the king girt my sword on me afresh as I sat at the foot of his throne as the first ealdorman of Devon; and the Witan confirmed his choice, also making sure to me all dues that should come to the man who held the rank. They seemed well satisfied with the king's choice of me, and that was a good thing, for I will say that I had somewhat feared jealousy here and there. I do not think that their approval was due to any special merit of my own at all, but it was plain that I stood in a halfway place, as it were, between the two courts in a way that was in itself enough to make the choice good policy.

After that Ina bade me go to Dyfed, while he was yet in the west, and would set all things in train for me, choosing my house-carles, and setting such men as I could work well with in places of trust in the land. There was much for the king to do yet.

"Therefore take what time you will, Oswald," he said kindly. "You will be busy enough when you come back, and I can trust you not to overstay your time. If Owen can come to speak with me bring him, but that is doubtful yet."

One may suppose that I did not delay then. I sent Evan to Thorgils, and asked him to give me a passage over, and so had a fortnight to wait for him, as he was on his way from some voyage westward at the time. Then a fair summer sailing and a welcome from the Danefolk at Tenby, where we put in rather than make for the long tidal waters of Milford Haven against a southwest breeze.

There the Danes must needs set themselves in array in all holiday gear that I might ride to Pembroke as a prince's foster son, with a better following than Evan and my half-dozen house-carles, and I rode with fifty men after me, so that the guard at the palace gates might have thought that Ina himself had come to see Owen, and there was bustle of welcome enough.

And so there were wonderful greetings for me, from Owen first, and afterward from Howel and from Nona, and I will not say much of them. If one knows what it is to see a father whom one had left weak and ill, strong and well and fully himself again; if one has met a good friend after absence; if one knows what it may be to see again the one who is dearest in thought, there is no need for me to try and tell the greeting, and if not, I could not make it understood. Let it be therefore. It was all that I looked for, and I was more than content.

And yet, for all that, it was a long week before I dared to tell Nona that which I would, and how I did so is another thing that I cannot set down. Maybe all that I need say is that I need not have feared, and that the new hall at Taunton waited for its mistress from that hour forward.

And so at length I knew that I must be away, and I rode to Tenby to see Thorgils, and found him in the haven, begrimed and happy, with men and boys round him at work on the ship everywhere, painting and scraping in such wise that I hardly knew her. From stem to stern she was bright green instead of her sea-stained rusty black, and a broad gilt band ran along her side below the oar ports. A great red and gold dragon from one of the warships of the Danes reared its crest on the stem head, while its tail curved in red and gold over the stern post, and even the mast was painted in red and white bands, and had a new gilt dog vane at its head.

"Here is finery, comrade," I said. "What is the meaning thereof?"

"Well, if you know not, no man knows. I have a new coat for tomorrow's wedding, and it is only fit that the ship that takes home the bride should have one also. Wherefore the old craft will be somewhat to sing about by the time I have done with her."

Then he showed me a new red-striped sail that Eric had given him, and an awning for the after deck which the women of the town had wrought for the shelter of the princess whom they loved. It seemed like a good speeding to Nona and to me.

And so it was at the end of a fortnight thereafter. It would be long to tell of the morrow's wedding, and then of days at Pembroke before we sailed, passed all too quickly for me. But at last we stood with Owen on the deck of the good ship while all the shore buzzed with folk, Welsh and Danish alike, who watched us pass from Dyfed to the Devon coast, cheering and waving with mighty goodwill, and only Howel seemed lonely as he sat on his white horse, still and yet smiling, with his men round him, where the cliff looks over the inner harbour, to see the last for many days of the daughter he had trusted to my keeping.

We cleared the harbour, and then where she had been lying under the island flew toward us under thirty oars the best longship that Eric owned, for it was his word that as the Danes had seen me into Pembroke by land, so they would see Nona from the shore with a king's following by sea, and that was well done indeed. The old chief himself was steering in full arms, and all the rowers were in their mail and helms, flashing and sparkling wondrously in the sun as they swung in time to the rowing song as they came. And all down the gangway amidships between the rowers stood the armed men who should take their places when their turn came, full sixty warriors, well armed and mail clad as if they had need to guard us across the sea.

I suppose that there is no more wonderful sight than such a ship as this, fresh from her winter quarters, and with her full crew of three men to an oar in all array for war, and Owen and I gazed at her in all delight. As for my princess, she had more thought for the kindliness of the chief in thus troubling himself and his men, I think, for she could not know the pleasure it gave each man of the Danes to feel his arms on him and the good ship swinging under him again after long months ashore.

"There is another ship in the offing," I said to Thorgils presently, when we, with the Dane just astern of us, were some five miles from land and had ceased to look back to Tenby. Nona had gone into the cabin away from the wind, which came a little chill from the east on the open sea, and maybe also that she felt the chill of parting from her father more than she would have us know.

"Ay," he said, looking at the far vessel under his hand, "I do not make out what she is—but if she is a trader—well, our Danes are likely to get some reward for their trouble. They will not have come out for nothing."

I laughed, for any trader in the Severn sea knew that he must be ready to pay more than harbour dues if he had the ill luck to meet with the Danes. They would make him pay for freedom, but would not harm him unless he was foolish enough to fight.

So we held on, and the strange sail, which was seemingly beating up channel against the wind, put about and headed for us somewhat sooner than Thorgils expected.

"She is making mighty short boards," he said. "She should surely have headed over to the coast yet awhile. Would have fetched a bit of a breeze off the land there, maybe."

Thorgils watched this vessel curiously, for there were things about her which seemed to puzzle him. The men, too, were beginning to talk of her and watch her. And presently I saw that our consort, the Dane, had slackened her speed, so that there was a mile of water between us astern.

"Oh ay," said Thorgils, as I spoke of this, "they mean to pick her up when we have passed her. They can overhaul her as they like."

Now we drew near to the strange ship, and it seemed to Owen and me, as we stood side by side on the after deck beside Thorgils at the helm, that we saw here and there among the men on her deck the sparkle of arms as she lifted and swayed to the waves. She was a long black ship, not like the Dane at all, and her sail was three cornered on a long tapering yard, quite unlike ours, which was square. Thorgils said that she was a trader from the far south, a foreigner, even from so far as Spain, though why she was here he could not tell. Mostly such never came round the Land's End.

"She wants to speak with us," he said presently. "I suppose she has lost herself in strange waters."

The vessel was right across our bows now, some half mile away, and her tall sail was flapping in the wind as she hove to. Thorgils put the helm down so as to pass to windward of her, and as he did so the sail of the stranger filled again, and she headed as if waiting to sail with us for a while. Now we could see that many of her crew, which did not seem large, were armed, and I thought little of that, seeing that there were Danes about. But Thorgils waxed silent, and sent a man to the masthead suddenly, for some reason which was not plain to me.

No sooner was the man there than he shouted somewhat in broad Norse sea language, which made our skipper start and knit his brows.

"How many?" he asked.

"Like to herrings in a barrel.—More than I can tell," the masthead man answered.

Then Thorgils turned to us.

"This is more than I can fully fathom," he said, leaning on the helm a little, so that the ship edged up a trifle closer to the wind steadily. "She has her weather gunwale packed with men, who are hiding under it—armed men. On my word, it is well that Eric is with us."

Owen and I looked at one another. If I had been alone, or with him only, I think I should have rejoiced in this seeming chance of a fight at sea, but with Nona and her maidens on board there was a sort of terror for me in what all this might mean.

No honest vessel hid her men thus, and waited for the coming of two strangers.

"Get your arms on, prince and comrade," said Thorgils. "It is in my mind that these are desperate folk of sorts. We are pranked up with that dragon like any longship, and here is Eric astern of us, and yet there is some look of fighting in the hiding of these men. Will they face two of us, or what is it?"

"We may not fight with the lady on board, Thorgils," Owen said under his breath. "If so be we can get away from them we must. Yet it will be the first time that Oswald and I have thought of flying."

"There is no merit in staying for a fight if there is need why one should be out of it," Thorgils said. "See, she is going to try to get to windward of us, and now will be a bit of a sailing match."

Then he called one of the men, and he came aft and took a pole with a round red board on its top from where it hung along the gunwale, and, standing on the stern rail with his arm round the high stern post, waved it slowly. He was signalling to Eric as Thorgils bade him.

The ship forged up into the wind closer and closer, and the spray flew over her bows as she met the sea. But the strange vessel was no less weatherly, and kept pace with us, and now Eric was bearing down on us more or less, sailing a little more free than we, though he also had to luff somewhat to keep near us, taking a long slant across our course as we sailed now.

I sent Evan for our arms, for the men were arming silently. They were in the chests in the fore cabin where I had once been bound, and Nona knew nought of possible trouble on hand. To keep her from it altogether I went to the low door of her rude shelter before I put on my mail, and looked in, telling her to keep the cabin closed against the spray that was flying, and had a bright smile for my thought. Then I went back to the deck and armed, and all the while the two ships reached to windward, but even in that little time I saw that the stranger had gained on us. The man was at work signalling to Eric again.

"We shall know if he means fighting in no long time," said Thorgils to me. "If he does I think that he is going to be surprised."

"How?"

"Well, unless every man on board is clean witless they must deem us both harmless. Maybe they have heard of a wedding party that is to cross and are waiting for us. Otherwise it seems impossible that they will face us and the Dane as well."

Now Eric was back on his old tack, and passing astern of us. I saw the glint of his oar blades, which had been run out from their ports ready to take the water if need was presently.

And then we knew that his help would be wanted. Suddenly the strange ship's head flew up into the wind and she was round on the other tack, paying off wonderfully quickly; and as she did so, from under her gunwale, where they could be hidden no longer, rose the armed men, seeming to crowd her deck in a moment. She was full of them from stem to stern, and our men shouted. She had won well to windward of us.

But Thorgils had known what was coming, and had kept his quick eye on the helmsman of the stranger. Even as her helm went down for the luff his went up and the men sprang to the sheets, and we were tearing across her bows even as her sail filled on the new tack, and heading away lift by lift toward Eric. And Eric hove to to meet us, and his sail fell and his oars flashed out and took the water, and he made for us like the sea dragon his ship seemed.

"Down with you men under cover!" roared Thorgils. "Arrows, comrade!—Down with you!"

The strange ship was only a bow shot from us, if a long one yet, but she was overhauling us apace.

I saw her men forward bending their bows, and the Norsemen of our crew came aft with my men under the break of the deck on which we stood, where they were in cover. Evan ran to me with his shield up.

"Evan," I cried, "shield Thorgils." And I set myself before Owen with my own shield raised to cover him, and he laughed at me grimly.

He set his own alongside mine, and we three stood covering Thorgils. The Norseman's face was set and watchful, but his blue eyes danced under the knit brows, and I do believe that he was enjoying the sport.

Ay, and so would I but for her who was so close to me. It was the first time I had known aught but joy in battle, and what all my strange new thoughts were I cannot say. I would not pass through that time again for worlds.

Then the first arrow fled from the enemy toward us, falling short by a yard or two, and at that there came one who looked like a chief, and stood on the high bows and hailed us in Welsh.

At sight of him Evan cried out, and Owen started.

"Daffyd of Carnbre, Morfed's kinsman," Owen said to me quietly. "This is the last of the crew who followed Morgan."

"Likewise the last of Daffyd," Thorgils growled grimly. "Look!"

But I could not. Now the arrow storm swept on us, and all the air seemed dark with shafts which dimpled the sea like a hailstorm, and clanged on our shields and smote the decks with a sharp click from end to end of the vessel. Even at that time I saw that some of the arrows were British, but more of some outland make with cruelly barbed heads. One or two went near my helm, and I had several in my shield, but none of us were hurt.

I had to watch them for the sake of Thorgils, who was unmailed, and I could not look where he pointed ahead of us.

Then of a sudden the arrows ceased to rain on us, and there went a cry as of terror from the decks of our enemy. The wild war song of the Tenby Danes rose ahead of us, and I turned and looked. Eric was close on us, and his men had risen from under the gunwales, where they too had been hiding until the foe was in their grasp, and now the dragon was on her prey, and that prey knew it. And yet Evan had need to shield me as I turned, for the chief whom they called Daffyd was urging his men to shoot, and himself snatched a bow and loosed an arrow at us harmlessly.

It was wonderful. Under the sweep of the thirty long oars the dragon ship tore past us, hurling the white foam from her sharp bows, while the thunder of war song and breaking wave and rolling oars filled my ears and set our men leaping and cheering as they saw her. Eric was on the high forecastle, and he waved his broad axe at us gleefully, and all along the decks the fighting men stood above the armed rowers; one shielding the toiler, and one with bent bow ready, steady as oaks on the reeling deck, and cheering us also with lifted weapons.

The foe saw, and her oars ran out too late. The dragon met her, and thus, checking her speed as she passed her, swept her crowded deck with arrows at half range; and yet the foe held on after us, for the men of Daffyd and of Morgan were bent on ending Owen if they themselves must die. The arrows were about us again, and Eric must turn and be back to our help. It seemed that the foe would be on us before that help could come.

I did not know the handiness of the longship under oars. She was about even as I looked again from the foe to her. And her sail was hoisted, and under that and oars alike she was back on the foe; and then the men of Daffyd forgot him and us in the greater business of caring for themselves, and left him raving on the foredeck, to seek shelter while they might.

Then I suppose the helmsman was shot, for the ship luffed helplessly, and in a moment the stem of the viking was crashing on her quarter, and the grappling irons were fast to her. Thorgils laughed and luffed at once.

"Somewhat to sing of," he said cheerfully, as he hove to to watch the fight.

That it was in all truth. We were but a bow shot off, and could see it all. We heard the ships grinding together, and we heard the shout of the Danes and the outland yells of the Welsh, and we saw the vikings swarming on board while the axes flashed and the war song rose again.

"Eric has a mind to pay them for nigh spoiling a wedding voyage," quoth our Norseman.

It was no long fight, for I suppose that there are men of no race who can stand before the Northmen at sea, at least since we have forgotten the old ship craft of our forefathers. From stem to stern Eric led his men, sweeping all before him, some foemen even leaping overboard out of the way of the terrible axes, and so meeting another death. I think that the Welsh chief Daffyd was the last to fall before old Eric himself. And then was a great cheer from the two ships, and after it silence.

Then Eric hailed us, and Thorgils ran out his oars, and we went alongside the Danish ship. And at that time Nona came from the cabin, and called me, looking wonderingly at the arrows that littered the deck at her feet.

"Oswald, what is it all?—Do the good Danes leave us?"

Then she saw my mail, and paled a little.

"Fighting! and I not with you?" she cried. "Is any one hurt?"

But I went to her side and told her how things had gone, asking her to bide in the shelter yet, for we had things to see that were not for her. And so she went back again and closed the door, being assured that the danger had passed.

We went on board the Danish ship, for there was not enough sea to prevent our lying gunwale to gunwale for a moment. Both Owen and I would find out if possible how all this came about. There was a row of captives on the deck of the enemy waiting question, and I looked down on them from beside Eric.

Swarthy men and black haired they were, speaking no tongue which we knew, and one of them was black as his hair. I had never seen a black man before, and he seemed uncanny. The Danes were staring at him also, and he was grinning at them with white teeth through thick lips in all unconcern. Many of these men had chains on their legs, and this black among them.

"Chained to the oar benches they were, poor thralls," Eric said. "We could not bide that, so we cut them free. Then they fell on their lords and rent them."

Owen shuddered. He had seen the southern galleys before, and knew why no man was left alive of the foreigners who had fought. Our kin do not slay the wounded. But there were some Britons left among the captives, and one of them cried to Owen by name for mercy.

We had that man on board the Dane and questioned him, and learnt all. He had no reason to hide aught when he was promised safety.

Daffyd had heard that we were to cross from Tenby, having had all the doings of Owen spied upon since the winter. Then he learned that when I came over Owen was to return, and therefore he had my doings watched also. He hired this foreign ship in Marazion, where she put in for trade just as he was wondering how to compass our end on the journey, promising her fierce crew gold of his own and all plunder there might be, if they would help him to an easy revenge. So they came into the Severn sea, and lay for a fortnight or more under Lundy Island, watching for us as a cat watches for a mouse, and getting news now and then from Welsh fishers from Milford Haven.

It was from them that Daffyd learned of my wedding, and so it came to pass that neither he nor the strangers thought for a moment that our two ships held aught but passengers and much plunder, with a princess to hold to ransom, moreover, for the taking. They took no account of the few house-carles we might have with us, and even I knew nought of the crossing of the armed Danish ship with us, which was planned so that it came as a pleasant surprise to us all. Thorgils was right, and it had been a terrible one for them.

So the plunder fell to Eric, and it was worth having. There was the ship and arms and captives, and the gold of Daffyd, and that of the traders, moreover, with some strange and precious woven goods from southern looms, silken and woollen, which yet remained in the hold, wondrous to look on.

Now, in halting words enough I went to thank Eric and his men for that which he had done for me and mine, which indeed was more than I knew how to put into words.

"Hold on, comrade," he said, staying me. "I will tell you somewhat. Good friends enough we are with Howel nowadays, but it was not always so. It was the doing of your fair princess that things came not to blows between us at one time, for we held that he was unreasonable in some matter of scatt {iv} to be paid. She settled that matter for us with wise words, and we hold that to her we owe it that we are in Tenby today. Howel could starve us out any time he chose. And that the prince will own to you if you ask him, being an honest man, if hasty. We shall miss Nona the princess sorely—good luck to her."

Then he must needs have all the bales of rich goods set on board our ship, as a wedding present to Nona, and so set a crew on board the prize, and she left us, heading homewards to Tenby. We went back to our own ship at once after this was done, but Eric would see us safely to Watchet before he was satisfied, and so we took up the quiet passage again, little harmed enough. Eric had a few wounded men, but we had not suffered from the arrows.

Presently the stars came out, and Nona and I sat with Owen under the awning in the quiet of the calm sea, while the men rowed under the shadow of the sail that held a little wind enough to help them homeward, and we went over all the things that the day had brought us. And Owen said:

"Now you may be at rest concerning me, Oswald, for there is not one left to lift a hand against me of whom I need think twice. Daffyd was the last of the crew to which Morgan and Tregoz and Dunwal belonged, for Gerent has the rest in ward safely; and there they will bide, if I know aught of him, until I have to beg him to set them free beyond the shores of Cornwall."

I will say now that this was true, for thence forward no man lifted hand or voice against my foster father. The war and its hopeless ending quieted the men whom Morfed had led, and there was peace, in which men turned to Owen as the one who could keep it, and had given wise counsel which was once disregarded.

So it came to pass that I took home Nona with me, and set her as princess in the hall at Taunton amid the rejoicing of all the Welsh folk who were under me; for, as Ethelburga the queen had said, they knew that they had a friend in her. And here we have bided ever since, and are happy in home and friends and work, for all seems to have gone well with us. And as to those good friends of ours, there may yet be a little to tell before I set the pen aside.

Owen passed to Exeter at the time we came home, for he would see his uncle before he went to speak with Ina. But presently he was back with us at Taunton, bearing with him a wondrous present for the bride from Gerent, and good and friendly words for me which promised well for the peace of the border, at least while he lived. And seeing that he lives yet, with Owen at his right hand, that has been a long time.

Now Owen comes and goes, and none think it strange that he is most friendly with Ina, for men have learnt that in the peace of the two realms is happiness.

Presently Jago came back to Norton, for I needed some British adviser at hand, for Evan, faithful and well trusted as he is as our honest steward, and able to tell me of the needs of the people, knows nought of the greater laws and ways, and Herewald minded me of him. They had ever been good friends, and I could fully trust him. So he rebuilt his house at Norton, where the land lay waste round the old Roman walls which our Saxons hate, and there he is now, helping me mightily with his knowledge of the Welsh customs, which I do not wish to interfere with more than needful.

For, in the wisdom of Ina, we did not follow the old plan of driving out and enslaving all the Welsh folk in this new-won land, as had been the rule in the days of the first coming of our forefathers when Saxons were few. Those manors whose owners had fallen or would not bide under the new rule, Ina gave to thanes of his own, and the men of Somerset and Dorset took what land they would where the freeman had left them, but all others he left under new and even-handed laws in peace.

So I had to content the men of both races as well as I could, and men say that I wrought well. At least, I have had no murmuring, and I may deem that they are right.

As one may suppose, there is no more welcome guest in our hall than Thorgils, and at times he brings Eric or some other Tenby Dane with him if a ship happens to cross hither. Once a year also he brings Howel, and there is feasting in our hall, Saxon and Norseman, Briton of the west and Briton from over sea together in all good fellowship.

One evening it came to pass that Thorgils sat in our hall, which was bright with the strange stuffs that came from the ship of Daffyd, and we talked of the old ship a little, after he had sung to us. And then I said idly:

"She must be getting old, comrade. When am I to give you that new craft we once spoke of?"

Whereon he looked at Nona suddenly, and said:

"I mind that old promise. But now there is a ship of another sort that will be a better present. I will ask for that."

"What is it?"

"Build us a church at Watchet, and set there a priest who shall teach us the way of the Christian. We have seen you forego a blood feud and do well to the innocent man whom our faith would have bidden you slay, and it is good. We know you for a brave warrior, and your faith has not taken the might from your heart as we were told it must. Only let the priest be a Saxon."

Then he added, as if thinking aloud:

"Ay, Odin and Thor and the rest of the Asir are far off from us here. Our old faith falls from us, and we are ready for the new. Let it be soon."

There I think that the hand of Nona wrought, for the Norse folk fairly worshipped her. So it was not long before that good friend of mine, the Abbot of Glastonbury, found me the right man, and one day thereafter Nona and I stood sponsors for Thorgils and one or two more whom we knew well, at the font in the new church which the gold of Mordred built instead of the ship, and soon all the little town was Christian in more than name.

There is happiness at Eastdean, and we meet with Erpwald and Elfrida at the house of her father now and then, and they have been here also. But I have never had time to go to Eastdean again, though it is a promise that we will do so when we may.

It is the word of Ina my master that all things go well where I bear rule for him, and I fear little blame, if little praise may be for me, when Owen comes to us from time to time. If there is any praise, it is due to my fair British princess, who is my best adviser in all things.

So there is peace; and some day, and that no distant one, there will grow up here a new race in the west, wrought of the blood of Saxon and Briton and Norseman; and the men of that Devon and Somerset that shall be, will have the doggedness of the Saxon and the fire of the Welsh and the boldness of the Norse, to be first of all England, maybe, in peace and in war, on shore and at sea. And that will have been brought to pass by the wisdom of Ina, whose even laws are held the wisest that the race of Hengist has ever known.

It is in my mind that the lesson of the wisdom of equal rights for all men, whether conquered or conqueror, is one that will bide with us in the days to come, and be our pride.

Now it seems that I have told my story so far as any will care to hear it. But if there has been aught worth telling it has centered round that one who took me from the jaws of the wild wolf in the Andredsweald. First in my heart, and first in the hearts of his people now at last, must be set the name of my foster father, Owen—the Prince of Cornwall.

THE END.



NOTES.

i The national weapon. A heavy blade between sword and dagger, with curved back and straight edge, fitted for almost any use.

ii The fine to be paid in amends for an open "manslaying" in quarrel or feud.

iii The ancient Welsh province now represented by the county of Glarnorgan.

iv Tribute due to an overlord by the settlers.