CHAPTER I STILLINGFLEET The sacred ash tree spread its wide leafy branches over the court of the Stillingas. On one side of this court was the long hall, built of timber, with quaintly–carved joists and gables, on two others were the barns and cattle–sheds, the whole being surrounded by a stiff quickset hedge concealing the view of the open country. This ash was not only sacred from its size and antiquity, and as an emblem of the ash tree of Yggdrasil, but it also had an elf hole through which children could be passed, a peculiarity possessed by no other ash for miles around. Six children were dancing joyously round the tree one bright summer afternoon 1300 years ago, and making the whole place resound with merry laughter. The eldest was twelve years of age, a sturdy, straight–limbed boy named Coelred, the eldest son of Seomel, the warrior chief of the Stillingas. He had blue eyes and a sunburnt little face, with masses of brown hair falling over his shoulders. His brother Porlor, two years his junior, was a bright child with a dreamy, thoughtful look in his eyes when at rest, and a strong little frame fit for sustained work even at that early age. Their companion, Hereric, numbering the same years as Porlor, was an inch taller, and his hair was golden and glistened as the sun's rays rested on it. He was a young prince, son of the warrior Elfric, the brother of Ella the king of Deira. His little brother Osric was only three years of age. The four boys had two girls for playfellows—Bergliot, the golden–haired princess, aged six years, and Braga, or Bragaswith, the little sister of Coelred and Porlor. Ella, the king, lived at Aldby with his queen and his daughter, the princess Alca, aged sixteen, and the new–born prince Edwin, the hope of Deira. Elfric was established at the Aldwark, the remains of the imperial palace within the walls of Eburacum, or Eoforwic (York), as the English then called it. But he was a widower, and his children were generally at Stillingfleet, under the care of the gentle wife of Seomel, the British lady Volisia. Elfric himself was also a frequent visitor, to consult with Seomel, his friend and companion in arms, over the affairs of the frontier. DANCING ROUND THE SACRED ASH
On that bright summer afternoon the Lady Volisia sat on a bench by the carved door–post of the hall, her baby–girl Nanna asleep by her side. She was tall and slim, with a slightly aquiline nose and soft brown eyes. She watched the happy group round the ash tree, a gentle smile lighting up her face as she bent again over her work. It consisted of a bright–coloured scarf to which she was attaching tassels. Presently the children left off dancing and began passing each other through the elf hole. It was said to bring luck, but it was too rough a game for the little ones, so the lady called the children to come round her, and told them that they should play the chance game for the scarf. This was one of the most ancient of all Teutonic games. Every child held the edge of the scarf with both hands. One was chosen to say a well–known spell, touching a hand at each word, and the hand on which the last word fell was dropped out. The spell was then repeated as often as necessary, and the owner of the last hand left won the game. Twelve small hands held the scarf, and the Princess Bergliot said the spell. Thus it ran: | Hurli Burli | Scipa Hwede | | Blypan Trothorn | Gang Feran | | Eastor Gasta | Ut. | The final "ut" came to Hereric the Atheling, but he presented the scarf, with all the ardour of a lover of ten years old, to his little playmate Braga. At the moment that the happy and smiling child received it, a horn was heard in the distance, and all ran at full speed to the gateway left in the line of the defensive hedge. Coelred, the eldest, was allowed to rush on, but the rest were called back by Volisia to await the arrivals within the courtyard. The view outside the surrounding hedge showed that the home of Seomel, the chief of the Stillingas, stood on the edge of a ridge running east and west, with a stream flowing through the valley below. The homesteads of the Stillingas, each with some tillage and pasturage round it, were built at intervals on either side of the stream, just clear of the highest flood. But beyond the narrow valley the whole landscape consisted of one dense forest. The ridge was chiefly wooded with ash trees, whence the name of Escrick (or Ashridge) for its more eastern part, and a short steep hill led down from the gateway of the Stillingfleet to the margin of the brook. Coelred ran down the hill, and his bare legs and feet carried him through the water and up the opposite side, just as the cavalcade emerged from the forest. It consisted of Elfric the Atheling; Seomel, the chief of the Stillingas; Guthlaf, the chief of the Hemingas; the Princess Alca, a young girl numbering sixteen summers, with her women; the gleeman Coifi; and a following of warriors returning from a short campaign against their northern neighbours of Bernicia. It is not certain whether the ladies rode as is now the fashion. Some people maintain that the Lady Wake, grandmother of the Fair Maid of Kent, was the first Englishwoman who used a side–saddle, 800 years afterwards. Others consider that the question is unsettled. At all events, while Guthlaf took his leave and rode on to his more distant home with his followers, and the Stillinga folk made for their homesteads in the valley, the rest cantered up the hill and dismounted in the courtyard, where they were warmly greeted by Volisia and the children. Coelred ran like a young deer by his father's horse, and it was his proud privilege to assist the Lady Alca to dismount. Elfric and Seomel were men of gigantic proportions, tall, sinewy, and well knit, with blonde beards and fair hair flowing over their shoulders, and of the same height. They wore over their linen tunics leathern shirts with iron scales or rings sewn upon them in rows, over which were metal collars. Their hose were blue, cross–gartered from ankle to knee with strips of leather, and their shoes had an opening down the instep tied close with thongs. On their left sides hung long single–edged iron swords, with hilts wrought of silver and bronze and scored with mystic runes, in wooden scabbards tipped and edged with bronze. Short daggers, called seax, were suspended from their girdles on the right side. The small round war–boards or shields, with an iron boss, were slung over their backs, and in their hands were the long ashen spears. Their helmets were of leather bound with iron and crested with iron–wrought figures of wild boars with eyes of brass. Over their armoured shirts they wore embroidered cloaks of blue cloth, fastened on their shoulders with a golden and jewelled buckle. Coifi, the gleeman, was in less warlike guise. He wore a garment with tight sleeves and embroidered breast, not unlike a smock–frock, with a hood attached, his feet and legs being cross–gartered, while a small harp was suspended round his neck and hung at his left side. The return from a warlike expedition was usually the occasion for a feast in the hall of the chief. It was so in this instance. As the sun went down Alca and the children retired to rest in the inner rooms, while the servants prepared the meal. In the centre of the long hall was the hearth–fire, with a hole in the roof for smoke; but now it was covered with green boughs, and on either side of it the boards were fixed on trestles. The freemen, or ceorls, of the Stillingas and of the Atheling almost filled the great room, seated in rows on the benches or settles, while the Prince and Seomel, with his wife, took their places at the head of the upper board. Our English ancestors were very clean, the use of baths was general, and before the Stillingas sat down to meat water was brought them for hands and feet. The fare was good and plentiful, meat being handed round on spits, while the horns were filled with ale, and the warriors talked in groups over the events of the campaign. But it was not until the Lady Volisia had herself handed round the brimming mead–cups to her guests and had retired, that the harp and song were called for. Then all eyes turned to the famous gleeman who had arrived in the Atheling's train from York. No man in the kingdom came near him for depth of knowledge of the ancient religion or of the folk–lore of the English. He stood by the chiefs at the upper end of the hall and tuned the harp as the mead–cup circulated. Coifi sang that thrilling legend which never failed to arouse the enthusiasm of his countrymen, and which was peculiarly appropriate after an expedition which had for its object the rescue of a Deiran town from a Bernician invasion. He told how the hero Beowulf came to Heorot with a chosen band, to rescue the subjects of King Hrothgar from the cruelties of their fiendish enemy Grendel; how Beowulf, single–handed, tore the monster's arm from his shoulder; how he then overcame Grendel's mother at the bottom of the sea with the aid of the sword Hrunting; and how he returned home victorious after this dread encounter. The touches of nature in the descriptions of scenery, the exciting speeches and challenges, the warlike sentiments, went right home to the hearts of his hearers, and loud and long was the applause at the conclusion of each fytte or canto, when the mead–cup passed round, and Coifi paused for breath. And here the singer for his art
Not all in vain may plead: The song that nerves a nation's heart
Is in itself a deed. At length the long but inspiriting song was ended. Seomel and the Atheling retired, the Stillingas went to their homes, while straw was shaken down along the hall, behind the mead–benches, as beds for the strangers. An eventful day thus ended, and all was silence in the courts of Seomel.
CHAPTER II ALCA Alca was the most beautiful girl that her countrymen had ever beheld; and even then, at the early age of sixteen years, as she tripped out into the crowded court, she appeared to the beholders to be a perfect dream of loveliness, lithe and active, yet with the graceful dignity of a long–descended princess. Her hair was golden, her eyes a deep sapphire blue, with that calm depth of meaning which was then believed to be one attribute of an elf–maiden. Alca, from a young child, had been remarkable for the universality of her love, which was extended to all the gods had made. Her wisdom and knowledge were far beyond her years, and seemed to those around her to be miraculous. She saw the true meanings of beliefs and customs. She alone was able to extract the hidden truth from the mysteries of nature, and could understand those longings and aspirations which her companions could only dimly shadow forth by their creeds and their superstitions. All loved the Princess, but they looked upon her as one nearer to gods than to men; and only children dared to love her without awe, and as a being higher and wiser, but still one of themselves. For the rest of the world Alca was an elf–maiden endowed with special gifts by the gods. The Princess had accompanied her uncle to Stillingfleet to see her cousins and other young friends, and to visit the Lady Volisia, to whom she was warmly attached. On that summer morning she was to go with her friend to the shrine of a goddess of her people on the other side of the Ouse, attended by the children and by several servants. When they reached the bank it was high tide. A large flat–bottomed boat was run into the water, and the party was pulled across by the boys to an old Roman fort on the opposite side, called Acaster. It consisted of two towers, like those on the column of Trajan, surrounded by a ditch. It was on the verge of a dense forest, in which some clearings had been made. The whole tract forming the angle between the Ouse and Wharfe was forest–clad, except where clearings had been made for planting apple and other fruit trees, and where the ings or swampy meadows formed a fringe between the forest and the river banks. The pilgrims made their way through the thickets by a very narrow path without stopping, for the promised visit to the orchards was to be on their return, after their devotions had been duly paid to the goddess. Nehalennia, to whose worship the wife of Seomel had remained faithful, was a Celtic goddess, who presided over fertility, and especially over fruit trees, and who was also the goddess of chalk pits and the patroness of chalk workers. The temple or haruc (HÖrgr), as the English called it, was unbuilt by human hands. The deity dwelt in a shady spot, embowered and shut in by self–grown trees, veiling her form in the rustling foliage of the overhanging boughs. Here, just within the forest, but bordering on the bright expanse of ings, stood a large slab of limestone, on which was carved in relief an image of Nehalennia, with long flowing hair, and baskets full of apples by her side. Masses of elecampane (Inula Helenium) and of other medicinal plants grew round the base of the carved stone, and a solemn silence reigned around. A few rays of the mid–day sun found their way through the overhanging branches, and lighted up the bas–relief, carved by some well–trained Roman hand. The Lady Volisia, the Princess Alca, and the children made their offerings to the shrine, and continued kneeling in devotion for some time. It was the very spot on which the Cistercian nunnery of Appleton was erected 600 years afterwards. The party made their way through the dense forest from the shrine of Nehalennia to the orchards of Appleton, which supplied Stillingfleet and all the homesteads round York. Here they rested under the apple trees, eating the rosy fruit, while Alca talked to the children. Porlor had asked her why Nehalennia was not also a goddess of the English, and she answered in the way which would make the essence of such mysteries most clear to her companions. "The names only are different," she said, "the deity is the same. Your mother and her people pray for fertility to Nehalennia, and you and Coelred and your sisters should do likewise, because invocation of the same name is one more tie of love between mother and children. Your father's people invoke Freyr to send them rain and sunshine, and to give them the fruits of the earth in due season. But it is the same thing. Both are names to denote the beneficent goodness of the 'All–father,' he whom the English call Woden. Remember that whatever god we invoke, we are always praying, through one of his attributes, to the 'All–father.' "Woden has many names," she exclaimed in a voice which awed her companions, and with a rapt look, as if gazing through space and seeing what was not visible to them. "He is the God and Father of victory, the Giver of gifts, the Almighty and All–knowing, but always the Father and Creator of gods and men. Sitting on his throne hlidskialf he can survey the whole world, and can hear all that goes on among men. His spear gÛnguir is in his hand; his ravens, Huginn and Muninn, are on his shoulders; his wolves, Geri and Freki, are at his feet; his horse Sleipnir by his side. He too is the Father of the slain, and the Rewarder of the brave and good when this life is ended." After a pause her eyes lost that far–away look, and were full of love as she turned to the children, and promised to tell them the meaning of all these things as soon as they were old enough to understand. Coelred, who had been eagerly listening to all the Princess had said, now anxiously inquired about the slain, and about the fatherhood of Woden in regard to them. "In three years," he said, "I shall be girded with a sword, and shall take my place in battle by the side of my father Seomel. How soon after that will Woden choose me to be one of the slain: are the bravest taken first, or the youngest, or those who are of least service? Can the Princess tell me?" Alca replied, as they wended their way home—"Of that hour it is given to none to tell. Woden sends his wish–maidens, called Valkyrie, who fly through the air to choose the heroes that are to fall. Often the best and bravest are taken, sometimes the very young, sometimes a warrior waits long and fights in many battles before his turn comes. No good warrior fears the Valkyrie. They are to be loved, not feared. They hover over the conflicting armies, mingle in the ranks, take the slain in their embraces, and ride with them on their heavenly horses to Valhalla, where they attend at the feasts, and hand the drinking–horn to gods and heroes. But touching the hour of death nothing can be known, because the selection is made on the spot by the Valkyrie. The time we cannot know." Then she turned with a sweet smile, and, looking from one to the other, she said to the two boys, "Yet this I do know, for it is given to me to know. When the fulness of time arrives, Coelred and Porlor will fall in battle, fighting bravely in a righteous cause." The boys were deeply impressed. Their hearts were too full for words, and there was silence until they reached the old Roman tower at Acaster and had crossed the river. It was broken by Porlor, who asked if the Valkyrie could be seen. "No," replied Alca, "they are unseen in battle; for, like Woden and the Valhalla, they are a mystery, which it is given to few to understand." "But," persisted Porlor, "cannot they put on the alptahamir (swan shifts), and take the form of birds of augury? Our friend Oswith, the son of Guthlaf, told us that he saw three swans alight on Derwent bank, put their white swan shifts in the grass, and turn into beautiful maidens. They bathed in the river, resumed their shifts, and flew away again as swans; and Oswith never lies. Were they Valkyrie?" Alca answered that "it was given to some to behold these mysteries, and to understand the truth that lies concealed in them, but to others it was not given." They were now approaching the gate of Stillingfleet as the sun set, the faithful dog Shuprak bounded out to meet them, and the conversation turned to trivial subjects as they entered the court. Some days afterwards the three boys, Hereric, Coelred, and Porlor, with their dog Shuprak, set out for the burg of the Hemingas, to join their friend Oswith, the son of Guthlaf, on a hunting expedition. They wore cross–gartered hose, and belts with metal buckles, from which long hunting–knives were suspended; bows and arrows were slung on their backs, and the little fellows also carried short iron–headed spears. For several miles they made their way through the dense forest, until they emerged on Skipwith Common, where the ruins of an abandoned town of the Parisi, consisting of circular huts, still showed many traces. It was a weird and desolate place even in bright sunshine, and Porlor whispered to his companions tales of grey old wood–folk clothed in moss, of dwarfs and giants, and of the lubber fiend, as they hurried across the moor, and again plunged into the forest. They went swiftly over the ground, and soon reached the clearings and the fortified burg of the Hemingas, at the junction of the rivers Ouse and Derwent. Here there was a ruined fort built by the Romans, which had been repaired with timber, and was the home of Guthlaf, the chief of the Hemingas. His son Oswith was the same age as Coelred, straight as a dart, broad–chested and lean–flanked—a splendid specimen of a young Englishman. He was a fast friend of the sons of Seomel, and, after warm words of welcome, their first act was to challenge each other to fight. A wrestling–match at once commenced on the green, and the lithe and sinewy figures of Coelred and Oswith were soon entwined, as they strove, with every muscle at extreme tension, to throw each other to the ground. Each boy won a bout, which made them quite happy, and the four lads, after a merry meal, set out on their search for forest game, working northwards again towards the home of Seomel. "Nature was an open book to these lads of the far–distant past. They lived in nearer communion than we can do with the world around them. Their frames, not yet clogged and vitiated by the habits of an advanced civilisation, were more alive than ours to the external effects of natural causes. The birds spoke to them, the forest whispered to them, the wind wantoned with their curly locks, they stood before the great spirit of nature face to face, and knew him as he revealed himself in every one of his divine forms." Loaded with as much game as they could carry, after a very successful and very happy day, they were walking in single file through the tangled underwood, when Oswith, their leader, saw the eyes of a huge wild–cat glaring at him through the dense foliage. It sprang up a tree, and in an instant he had thrown down his burden and was after it, with his long knife in his mouth. When, at a considerable height, he was swinging himself forward to attack his antagonist, which was at bay, the bough broke and he fell heavily to the ground. His comrades found him suffering intense pain, unable to stand, and with a very badly sprained ankle. Abandoning the spoils of the chase, Coelred and Porlor began to carry him, but they were still several miles from Stillingfleet. Hereric ran forward for help, and when it came the sturdy little fellows had already carried their friend upwards of three miles. Oswith was soon lying on a heap of fresh straw in Seomel's hall. His hose and shoes were removed, and it was found that the ankle was much swollen, so that there was every prospect of days and even weeks elapsing before he would be able to walk. As soon as Coelred had seen that everything that was possible had been done for his friend, he sought his mother's bower, and throwing himself at the feet of Alca, he besought her to show favour to the son of Guthlaf. "Indeed," replied the Princess, "I will do what I can for my young friend Oswith." She went into the hall, patted the boy's head, and spoke cheering words to him, with her eyes fixed on his until she thought her spell would work. Then she removed the bandage, placed her hand very gently on the swelling, and uttered it, as follows:— Ben zi Bena,
Bluot zi Bluode,
Lid zi Geliden,
SÔse gelimida sin.
Thu biguolen Wodin,
So he wola coude,
SÔse ben–renki,
SÔse bluot–renki,
SÔse lidere–renki. Volisia stood by her side, ready to administer a sleeping–draught, and next morning Oswith was quite healed, and able to walk and run as well as ever. As soon as she saw that the spell was working, Alca went out to the ash tree in the courtyard and prayed to the Æsir on her knees, several groups of people watching her with awe. When she rose and looked round, Coifi came forward with a low obeisance. The gleeman was an adept in the Teutonic religious beliefs, and was versed in all the tales and traditions of the mythology of his people. But he looked upon them solely from a practical point of view. He received every supernatural story literally. To him Woden and Thor were the wooden images preserved at Godmundham, and he sought for no further light. Alca, even in extreme youth, was visionary in her religious views. The All–father, as she understood him, was everywhere and pervaded everything. The gods and goddesses were his attributes, or represented his intentions and designs, as she had explained to the children on the day of the pilgrimage to Nehalennia's shrine. "The spell will not work, I fear, O daughter of the King," said Coifi, who was then a man between thirty and forty, and known in every burg and hall as the best gleeman in Deira. "The spell will work, Coifi," replied Alca in a gentle voice. After a pause the gleeman said almost in a whisper, "I know the spell of Balder's horse that you used for young Oswith. I think I know every spell, but they will not work for me. I pray and sacrifice to the gods, but they help me not. Let them give me power and I can believe them. I believe when I see." Alca looked at him and said, "I am too young to teach so learned a man as Coifi. But I can say why the spell will work. The boy loved me and believed. I love the gods and have faith, so the spell will work." Coifi replied, "But I cannot believe until I see the spell work. If the spell works I believe." "That is the wrong way, Coifi," said the Princess. "Believe and the spell works; for it works by faith. Wait until the spell works before you can believe, and it will never work." Puzzled and angry, Coifi declared that he would serve the gods and pray to them for his lifetime, and they must answer him and give him power; but that to believe before they showed him their mighty works was impossible. Alca shook her head. She said no more, but she saw that insight was not given to Coifi. As she stood by the side of the gleeman, with Coelred and Porlor watching her from the hall entrance, and with many people in the courtyard, her aspect suddenly changed. She assumed a listening attitude and then looked upwards. "The Valkyrie pass through the air," she cried. "I neither see nor hear," said Coifi; "it cannot be." All gazed in amazement for several minutes. "A great battle is joined. The heroes fall," was the next exclamation of the Princess. She stood like one inspired. "Coelred! Coelred! run to my eame the Atheling and to your father; tell them to arm and to assemble all their forces, for the enemy approaches. Coifi, go thou to alarm the people. Bid them to assemble armed and ready to march." Coelred was off like an arrow from a bow. Coifi also obeyed. The alarm–horns were heard in the valley. In half an hour the Stillingas were drawn up fully armed outside the hedge. Elfric and Seomel, also fully armed, had entered the enclosure and asked eagerly for the cause of the alarm. Alca was still standing under the ash tree. All eyes were turned on her. The setting sun threw a glow of light over her form. "I hear the rapid feet of the messenger," she said, raising one arm. "You will hear him and act quickly. He comes—make way for him." A lane was formed, and between the two lines of warriors a little boy ran breathless into the court, and sank exhausted on the ground. "It is Forthere, the son of Brand of Ulfskelf," exclaimed Seomel. "Speak, boy! speak quickly—what are your tidings." The gallant little fellow had swum across the river. As soon as he recovered breath he delivered his message. The settlement at Bilbrough had been suddenly attacked and taken by an overwhelming force of Britons from Elmet, led by their king Certicus. After a short fight the slaughter began. Vidfinn, the chief of the Billingas, was slain, and most of his people were massacred. Neither age nor sex was spared. A young woman with little Sivel, the child of Vidfinn, brought the news to Ulfskelf. But there was scarcely breathing–time before the enemy appeared, their numbers vastly increased; Ulfskelf was surrounded, and Brand resolved to defend it to the last gasp. A desperate fight took place outside, but the overwhelming numbers of the enemy soon obliged him to retreat behind his palisades. Forthere had escaped by creeping along the margin of the Wharfe. He then swam across the Ouse, and so brought the tidings to Stillingfleet. Elfric and his leading men assembled under the ash tree and issued orders. It was a bright moonlight night. A party had already been sent off to prepare the boats for crossing the Ouse. Mounted messengers were despatched to Cuthred, chief of the Poclingas beyond the Derwent, to Sigfrid of the Elfingas, to Guthlaf of the Hemingas, to Ingeld of the Heslingas, calling upon them to march with all despatch and meet Elfric the Atheling at Acaster. The first object was to save Ulfskelf, if Brand could hold out so long. Elfric was despatching another messenger to the King, who was at Aldby, with a similar request. But Alca spoke once more. She advised that King Ella should be asked to cross the Ouse with his fighting men, above York, advance along the high land by the hill of Severus and the ridge of Askham, and so take the enemy in flank; while Elfric with his levies, raised between Ouse and Derwent, opposed their further advance. Stillingfleet was no longer safe. It was arranged that next morning the Princess Alca and the Lady Volisia, escorted by Coifi and the boys, with a few attendants, should take refuge at Aldby. Meanwhile Elfric and Seomel, with the Stillingas and the Atheling's own followers, crossed the Ouse and began to entrench themselves at Acaster in the early hours of the night. When the reinforcements arrived next day, they would boldly advance to the relief of Ulfskelf.
ALDBY The escort of the Princess, of Volisia, and the children left Stillingfleet next morning. In the van rode the older boys, Oswith, Coelred, and Forthere, all three well armed, followed by the two ladies, the children, and attendants, while Coifi, with the two younger boys, Porlor and Hereric, brought up the rear. "The gleeman is to be a priest of Woden," said Porlor to his friend, "to whom it is not permitted to carry arms. The defence of the rear depends upon us, so we must be on our guard." All the lads had arms suited to their size, but none of them were yet old enough to wear swords. After a mile's ride through the forest, they came to open moorland where there was an outlying stockaded post of the Stillingas, afterwards called Moreby; and here they met the Heslingas, led by the veteran Ingeld, to whom the Princess gave fuller information than had been brought by the messenger, and he pushed rapidly onwards with his men, to join the Atheling. Riding on over moor and through forest, the ladies and their escort, after some hours, reached the banks of the bright river Derwent, where tall ash trees threw shadows over its surface, which was skimmed by water–hens, while now and then the brilliant plumage of the kingfisher glistened under the sun's rays as it darted to its galleried nest in the bank. Soon the party came in sight of Aldby, the royal seat of the kings of Deira, on a slight eminence above the right bank of the river, the buildings appearing amongst clumps of tall trees. The Roman station of Derventio, on the Derwent, was twelve miles east of York. When the English arrived, the buildings had been much injured by invaders from the north, and by more than a century of neglect. They were in a ruinous condition, but they were still standing; and they received the name of Aldby, or the ancient town, from the new–comers. The prÆtorium, repaired in many places with timber, still had a portico composed of pillars with composite capitals, and formed the guest–hall of the King of Deira. A villa, consisting of rooms built round three sides of a square, with corridors, and a temple, were also included in the Deiran palace. The walls of the guest–hall were adorned with tapestry representing mythical beings from the Teutonic mythology, and the floor retained its mosaic pavement. Although the boards or tables were on movable trestles, there were fixed sideboards, with bowls of bronze highly gilt and of very elegant forms, metal dishes, and horns, while a raised dais with a throne at one end gave some appearance of regal dignity to the spacious hall. King Ella had marched away with a large force, but its place had been taken by warriors from Driffield and from Godmundham, and Aldby still had the busy appearance of a royal abode, with yards and halls crowded with armed men, priests, and servants. The fugitives were cordially received by Ella's queen, the stepmother of the Princess Alca, whose name is not recorded in history. She had recently given birth to a son, who had received the name of Edwin, a child of destiny, round whose life–story the events of this narrative will eventually centre. The children were all eager to pay their respects to the young Atheling, the hope of the house of Deira, and Alca led them into the presence of the infant prince. There was much anxiety for several days, but at last the news came that Elfric had relieved Ulfskelf and defeated the numerous but ill–disciplined army of Britons. Their chief Certicus and his levies commenced a retreat which the King converted into a rout when he fell upon their right flank in the swampy ground between Askham and Bilbrough. Ella and his brother then formed a junction round the hill, now called Ingrish, and again fell furiously upon the disorganised rabble. Certicus, with a small following, escaped into the forests of Elmet, but there was tremendous slaughter, and the place is called Helagh to this day. The English outposts were again extended to the old Roman station of Calcaria, on the south side of the river Wharfe, facing the ford of Nehalennia. The King also restored the burg of the Billingas, and all due honours were paid to the remains of the chief Vidfinn, who had been a daring Viking before he established himself at Bilbrough with his children Hjuk and Bil. Nine votive boats of pure gold were deposited in his grave, and a lofty tumulus was raised above it, on the slope of the red sandstone hill which rises gradually from the Roman road between York and Tadcaster. Little Sivel, the only surviving child of Vidfinn, was adopted by Brand of Ulfskelf. A nephew of Vidfinn, named Saebald, surnamed Fairfax from his silver–white hair, was elected to command the Billingas and to defend the restored settlement of Bilbrough. These administrative arrangements occupied some time, during which the lads at Aldby hunted in the forests between the Derwent and the foot of the Wolds, sometimes pursuing their game far into the chalky hills, and often ascending Garraby, which rises to a height of nearly 800 feet above Aldby. Their evenings were passed in games with their sisters, or in conversations with Alca, varied by listening to the wondrous tales of Coifi or to the folk–lore of another race preserved in the memory of their mother Volisia. One day the five boys went with Coifi to Godmundham to visit the temple which contains the sacred images brought from the old home on the continent. A space was encircled by a quickset hedge, and within there were three lofty elms, under which the idols were set up. Hard by were the ruins of the Roman station of Delgovitia, some of the buildings having been roughly repaired to serve as dwellings for priests and servants. Coifi localised his beliefs. According to his creed, Woden and Thor were within this enclosure at Godmundham, or at all events he held that this was their favourite home, where worshippers must seek their help, and where priests must observe all the ceremonies connected with their cult. He told the boys the history of the creation, and all the strange legends which had gathered round it; and he narrated the myth of Balder's death and of Freyr's love for Gerdr. He attended the sacrifices of bullocks, and remained long at his devotions. But he never could derive either power or inspiration from his prayers to the gods, and he rose from them with an expression of discontent and impatience. The boys were glad to return to Aldby, dissatisfied also, and eager for some more sympathetic teaching. This they found in the Princess Alca, who to them was the type of perfect beauty and goodness. PRINCESS ALCA TELLING STORIES TO THE BOYS
They had attended her on an excursion to the foot of the Wolds, and rested on a rising ground under the spreading branches of a tall ash tree, with Aldby in sight beyond the river, and a mass of waving foliage at their feet. The sun was still high, the stillness only broken by the songs of birds. Alca sat on one of the projecting roots. The boys were lying down at her feet, surrounded by leaves and flowers, which they had been collecting to decorate her bower. Porlor broke the silence by asking the Princess to teach them the story of Balder, and its meaning. "Porlor," she said, "was right to be the spokesman, for his name should make him a student of Balder's lore. But I see by your eyes," she added, "that you all wish me to talk to you of the Son of God. Listen, then, to one who seeks, though with little help and in twilight, to learn and to show to others the true meaning of hidden mysteries. Balder was the son of the All–father, of the Creator of gods and men. He was the god of light, and grace, and manly beauty. His brow was white as the chamomile flower. Through him deeds of true bravery were done on the earth, the weak were protected, virtue was practised, and justice was maintained. But a prophecy that Balder would perish afflicted the gods. Then Frigga, the spouse of Woden, took an oath from all created nature that no individual thing would harm the pride of Asgard, the beloved of gods and men. But the goddess made a fatal omission. She forgot a sprig of mistletoe. Being invulnerable, Balder allowed the gods to use him as a target. Now Loki, as you know, was born among the yotuns. He was false and full of wickedness, father of the terrible wolf Fenris and of Hela, ruler of the dead. Loki put mistletoe into the hands of the blind god Haudr, and with this he slew the best and greatest of Woden's sons, who descended into hell. The All–father himself went down into the dark abode of Hela, to persuade her to relinquish her prey. She agreed, if all created nature would weep for Balder. All nature did mourn for the loss of the god of goodness and beauty, save one old crone. 'What have the gods done for me,' she said, 'that I should weep for Balder? Let Hela keep her dead.' Thus Balder's fate was sealed, and with it the fate of the world; for justice, mercy, virtue, and true bravery ceased to prevail with Balder's death, though they did not entirely cease to exist. I know not why the All–father, in his wisdom, has submitted to this evil. But it can only be for a time. The Son of God will rise again in triumph. I sometimes think that he has risen, though as yet we know it not." Then the far–off look came again into Alca's blue eyes, and during the rest of her speech she gazed into the heavens. The boys listened almost breathless. "I think that God has risen to redeem the world," she resumed. "I am impelled to this belief, though I know not why, or by what guiding power. But misfortune and sorrow will not end—not yet. Coelred, Hereric, Oswith, Forthere, Porlor, I love you as very dear brothers. It is perhaps by reason of my love that insight is given to me. There is borne into my mind a feeling that some great calamity is impending over you all, and that it will fall upon you together. In this there is a ray of comfort." She paused, and Coelred said, "If misfortune overtakes us, O Princess, we will strive to meet it as Englishmen, as sons of our brave fathers, ever victorious in battle!" "And," said Oswith, "in all our troubles we will ever remember the goodness of our beloved Princess." Forthere spoke words like those of Coelred, which were echoed by the younger boys. "Of that I am certain," continued Alca. "You will quit yourselves like men—above all, like Englishmen. If you are together in your trials, Coelred will be your leader. The fearless Oswith will be your support, and will help to form your plans. Forthere, too, will be a trusty friend. Porlor will be most shrewd as an adviser, and his rede should be followed; and my sweet cousin Hereric will enlighten counsels by his imagination. O my boys! remember that if sorrow comes, Alca is praying for you and thinking of you. Always act as if the Son of God had risen. Be brave. Love one another. Love truth. Be just and merciful. If you hear that God has truly risen, then remember my words. Be true to yourselves, and you will triumph in the end. May the gods watch over you!" There was a long silence. Alca rose and turned homewards, surrounded by the boys with their sweet burdens. Anxious to turn their thoughts from the solemn and depressing theme on which she had been led to dwell for a time, by a force beyond her control, the Princess sang them a merry song, and talked to them of the return of their victorious fathers, which was expected on the following day. When the party reached Aldby all were chatting and romping, and the boys turned into an inner court to exercise themselves in feats of strength. Next day the King arrived. Ella was a large man, like his brother, but he looked much older, worn with illness, and his expression was melancholy and somewhat stern. Elfric rode by his side, Seomel, Guthlaf, Brand, and the other chiefs followed, and there was a goodly array of English warriors. They dismounted at the Roman colonnade, and were soon surrounded by wives and children. The great feast that night in the old prÆtorium was ordered and arranged like that of Seomel, but on a much larger and more regal scale. The Queen herself took round the mead–cup to the guests, and when she retired there were songs of victory, and the harp was passed from one to another. One warrior had recited the events of the campaign, and received great applause. Another told of the surprise of the Billingas by the cruel and treacherous Certicus. Late in the evening Coifi took the harp, and selected for his song the warning of Hrothgar to Beowulf on the frail tenure of human life. This choice was resented by some of those present as being intended to have reference to the King; but Ella himself approved, and the gleeman continued as follows:— Soon will it be
That sickness or the sword
Shall part thee from power;
Or clutch of fire,
Or wave of flood,
Or gripe of sword,
Or javelin's flight,
Or ugly age,
Or glance of eye
Shall oppress and darken thee. This melancholy dirge concluded the feast, and before another year had passed King Ella was in his grave. The time of parting came only too soon. The Lady Volisia, with her daughters and the children of Elfric, returned to Stillingfleet. The Atheling himself, with Seomel, proceeded to York to make further preparations for strengthening the frontier posts, and it was arranged that Seomel should go thence, with supplies of weapons and stores, to Bilbrough, Calcaria, and Ulfskelf, before returning home. He was to take a large escort of Stillingas, and, to their great joy, the three elder boys and Porlor were to accompany him. The Atheling and those who were to go with him to York took leave of the King and Queen. But when the boys came to say farewell to the Princess Alca their hearts were too full for words, and tears were in their eyes. They loved and worshipped her, they would all have died for her, but not a word could they say. She spoke very gently and calmly, repeating what she had said yesterday. "Remember my words. Be true to yourselves, and may the gods watch over you." After the cavalcade started, the boys looked back again and again, waving their caps, until the graceful form under the colonnade was lost to sight. When would they see her again? Ah, when!
CHAPTER IV YORK AND THE DEIRAN FRONTIER Aberach, the British mound by the confluence of Ouse and Foss, was converted into the Roman camp of Eburacum by Agricola in A.D. 79, and from a camp became an imperial city, and the headquarters of the 6th Legion for nearly three centuries. The camp was surrounded by a ditch 9 feet deep and 32 wide, with an agger or rampart fortified by valli. The sides were 692 yards long, with four gates, and there was a space of about a hundred yards between the ditch and the river Ouse. But in A.D. 120 the Emperor Hadrian caused the valli to be replaced by substantial walls of alternate layers of bricks and masonry, with towers at the angles. The multangular tower at the north–west is still standing. The prÆtorium was converted into an imperial palace, and stood on the ground now occupied by gardens on the south–east side of Goodramgate, and by Aldwark and Peterna. A temple of Bellona stood on the site of part of St. Mary's Abbey and the manor. Hyeronimianus of the 6th Legion had dedicated a temple to Serapis on the site of Fryar's Garden, and there was an artificial cave for the worship of Mithras on a site in Micklegate, opposite St. Martin's Church. The sites of other temples and theatres, which must have existed, are now unknown. The dense forest of Galtres came close up to the PrÆtorian gate, whence a road led to Isurium, and the Decumanian gate was in the centre of the opposite wall. When the English arrived the 6th Legion had been gone for upwards of a century and a half, the place had been frequently pillaged, the walls were broken down in several places, and the beautiful Roman edifices were in ruins. King Ella had repaired the breaches in the walls with strong palisades, and his brother Elfric had made a portion of the imperial palace habitable. Seomel and the four boys were the guests of the Atheling for a few days, while weapons were collected and got ready for the use of the outposts beyond the Wharfe. The boys wandered about among the ruins, and gazed upon the porticoes and colonnades with awe and admiration. It was then that they first heard of the great emperors of Rome and of the Legions, and they understood dimly that their own people were only beginning to build up a new empire on the ruins of a glorious past. One day they had crossed the river Ouse to see the tombs which lined both sides of the Roman road leading to the south. Many were broken down, but some were still standing, especially on the higher ground. There was a beautiful monument on the Mount, where a youth and a maiden had been buried, for their figures were carved in relief on the stone, but of course the boys could not read the inscription. Here they rested, gazing over the swampy expanse of Knavesmire, and Porlor fancied that the two figures represented lovers who had been cut off in the flower of their youth. They were worshippers of Nehalennia; for a deity, like the one at Appleton, was carved in the semicircular space over their heads. In running down the slope towards the river, the boys stopped at the entrance of the cave of Mithras, and entered with feelings of curiosity mingled with awe. In the dim light they could see a bull on its knees, and a young man plunging a knife into its neck. "What can it mean? Is it a priest sacrificing a bullock to Woden?" said Oswith. "That cannot be," objected Coelred, "for the images were not made by our people, nor do we make images of the sacrificers but of the gods, and those only at Godmundham." Porlor sat long gazing at the fine bas–relief, on which a few rays from the sun cast a dim light. "The being with a high cap," he said, "is a god, not a man. I see by his face that he is a good god." His companions looked again more closely. "The god is plunging a knife into the bull, but it is not to do harm but good, for he is a good god." He again sat thinking. "It is a mystery," he said at last, "and we are too ignorant to solve it." "Alca would understand," said the other boys. They walked down to the river, and, crossing it, returned to the "Aldwark," as the ruined palace was then called. Next day Seomel left York with a number of laden horses, and a strong force as an escort. The four boys were with him. Again they passed the mysterious cave of Mithras, and the monument of the two lovers on the Mount, as they wended their way southward along the Roman road. These Roman roads in Britain were so admirably constructed that, although they had been neglected for more than a century, they were still serviceable. The mode of construction was as follows:—Two parallel furrows were dug to mark the width, and all loose earth was removed down to the rock. The first layer for the road was called the pavimentum. On it was laid a bed of small squared stones called statumen. The next layer consisted of a mass of small stones broken to pieces and mixed with lime, called rudus or ruderatio. The third layer, called nucleus, was a mixture of lime, chalk, broken tiles, all beaten together. On this was laid the summum dorsum or pavement of stones, sometimes like our paving–stones, but oftener of square flagstones. At proper intervals there were stations for changing horses, called mutationes, supplied with horses and veredarii or postilions, and in charge of stationmasters called statores. The miliaria or milestones were perfect stone cylinders about 3½ feet high, on bases. The arrangements for travelling were out of gear, and most of the mutationes were in ruins or had been destroyed when King Ella reigned. But the splendid road was so admirably constructed that it was still efficient. Seomel had been delayed, and had not started until nearly sunset, but he made the best of his way, and reached the dwelling of Saebald the Fairfax, chief of the Billingas, long before dark. Here the night was to be passed. It was here that Saebald's predecessor had dwelt, and here the old warrior had been surprised by the Britons and killed. The place is now called Street Houses. The house was one of the mutationes of the Roman road, to which some wooden buildings had been added. But it was exposed, and it was the intention of Saebald to remove his people to a stockaded burg on the summit of what was afterwards called Ingrish Hill, about a mile to the westward of the road. Saebald received his guests with much cordiality, and after supper he was quite willing to satisfy the eager curiosity of the boys about the life and death of the Viking chief Vidfinn, and about the strange fate of his children, rumours of which had reached them. The hall of the Billingas was lighted with torches, and after some conversation with Seomel touching the defences and the supply of weapons, the good–natured Saebald turned to the boys and began his tale. "Vidfinn," he said, "was a mighty sea–rover, and like Brand, his brother, a stanch follower of the Eolderman Iffi, father of our king. When the English first advanced beyond the Ouse they were led by Brand and Vidfinn, and Vidfinn eventually formed this frontier station beyond the road, where he and his followers settled. He brought two children, a boy and a girl, with him, named Hjuk and Bil, to whom he was devoted. He called his burg after the girl, Bilbrough, and his people hence were called Billingas. It so happened that the spring beside his dwelling on the road was fouled by cattle, and for a time they had to use the water from a well called Byrgir, about half a mile up the hill. One day Hjuk and Bil went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. They took a pole named Simul, on which they slung the bucket Saeg, and away they went, Bil in front and Hjuk behind, talking and laughing so that the people heard them and thought no harm. But they never returned." The boys had listened eagerly, and Oswith now asked if search was made for the lost children. "Yes, indeed," answered Saebald. "The pole Simul and the bucket Saeg were found lying near the well Byrgir in such a position as to make people think that Hjuk must have fallen down, and that Bil must have come tumbling after. But they were both gone. Search was made in all directions and continued long, but with no result. Vidfinn was wild with grief. At length, in gazing at Mani, who, as you know, is seen on the face of the moon and directs its course, Vidfinn thought he saw two children behind him, and he became convinced that Mani had taken Hjuk and Bil up from the earth as they were coming from the well. They help Mani by presiding over the tides of the ocean, it is thought: Hjuk looks after the flow, while Bil directs the ebb, and both together send the long high wave up the rivers, which you boys must often have seen, and which is named after the god Ægir." When Saebald paused, the boys ran out into the road and gazed at the moon. They then saw, what they had never before observed, that there really were two children behind Mani. Astonished and intensely interested, they returned and entreated Saebald to tell them the rest of the story of Vidfinn. The fair–haired chief of the Billingas said that little remained to tell, and before beginning he showed the boys the pole Simul and the bucket Saeg, which hung on the carved door–post of the hall, and had escaped attention from the Britons. "When Vidfinn had satisfied himself that his beloved children were safe in the hands of Mani," resumed Saebald, "he was consoled, and ten years ago he took another wife, a daughter of one of the Billingas, and had a son named Sivel, but the mother died. Peace had continued so long that the old Viking was off his guard and completely taken by surprise when his burg was attacked at the dead of night by the army of the Britons. He sent little Sivel away with a girl, and they escaped to Ulfskelf. Vidfinn then defended his home desperately, with his Billingas, and at length he fell amidst a heap of slain. He was amply avenged by the King and his brave warriors, and a worthy tumulus has been raised to the memory of the founder of Bilbrough. My father was Beorn, another of his brothers," concluded the Fairfax, "and as his successor, in the minority of Sivel, I am proud to be the host of the valiant Seomel and his knights" (cnihts or boys). By this time the eyes of the four boys were heavy, and they no sooner threw themselves on their heaps of fresh straw in the hall than they were all fast asleep. At dawn the two chiefs, Seomel and Saebald, went up to the Ingrish Hill to inspect the progress of the stockade and to serve out weapons to the Billingas, and on the way the boys were shown the tumulus of Vidfinn, and, a little farther on, the deep well Byrgir. The tumulus had been raised on the very spot where the bucket Saeg and the pole Simul were found in the grass, so that it is a monument both to the Viking father and to the children kidnapped by Mani. Taking their leave of the hospitable lord of Bilbrough, Seomel and the boys rode down the Roman road and came to the great battle–field of Helagh. Seomel showed them the place where the enemy's slain were buried, which is called "Hell Hole" to this day. They then went on to the river Wharfe, and crossed by the ford of Nehalennia to the old Roman station of Calcaria, where a strong English outpost was established. Seomel went a mile or two down the river, and fixed upon a hill called Kele–bor for another military station, to guard against sudden incursions from Elmet; while the boys wandered up the stream to a limestone crag. Here the water was deliciously cool and clear, so different from the muddy floods of Wharfe and Ouse, lower down. They stripped and plunged into it, and after their bath they went to the famous shrine of their mother's goddess Nehalennia at Calcaria. Here, in the midst of the white limestone country, the guardian deity of chalk workers and of fruit trees received highest honour. Here too, among her favourite white rocks, she lavished her favours most abundantly among the fruit orchards, and even now the real wine–sour plum will only grow on the Brotherton lime, and in the Sherburn district. Crossing the ford once more, and riding along the banks of the Wharfe, the little party was very hospitably welcomed at Ulfskelf by the grand old warrior Brand and his wife Verbeia, a sister of the Lady Volisia. Here Coelred and Porlor made the acquaintance of the little Sivel, a bright intelligent child, in whom the strange story told them by Saebald had made them feel a deep interest. Taking leave of their cousin Forthere and of Sivel at Ulfskelf next morning, and of Oswith, who rode on to Hemingborough, Seomel and his two sons arrived at their home. Here they found the Lady Volisia with the children of Elfric—Hereric, Bergliot, and Osric—her own daughters Braga and Nanna, and the dog Shuprak. Thus once more was the happy and united family assembled in the hall of Stillingfleet, with peace fully restored, and all fear of danger vanished. How fortunate it is that it is not given to any of us to know, and to few of us to foreshadow, what a week or a month may bring forth.
CHAPTER V KIDNAPPED "I feel the Berserker rage flowing through me, and arousing the desire to fight and to kill." It was Hereric who spoke, and he ended his strange words with a wild shout. "You, Hereric!" exclaimed Porlor; "why, you are the gentlest of us all, though no niddring. How strange that you should be so taken! Yet I have heard Coifi say that the hour when the sacred rage inflames us no man knows, but that it should never be resisted. When it comes, he told me, we must kill and kill." He raised another shout, which was echoed by Hereric and Coelred. "Lead us to the attack of savage beasts ten times our size," said Porlor to Coelred, whose eyes were also sparkling with excitement. "That will I," shouted the elder boy; "I will fight any one ten times my size," and he threw his arms over his head. The three boys had just been having their morning bath, and were sitting and lying on the grass, with their feet in the water of the brook, which rippled over the stones. It was early morning, and they were to take Bergliot with them into the woods. When they ran home to get their arms, the young princess was waiting at the gate. In a few minutes they joined her, with hosen cross–girt, knives at their sides, and spears in their hands. "We are full of Berserker rage," they told her. "You are full of naughtiness" (the word she used was hinderscype), she answered, "and will be whipped." Yet their excitement was contagious, for she ran back into the hall and returned with a short spear and Shuprak at her heels. All four then ran wildly down the hill and over the brook, shouting and brandishing their spears, with the dog running and barking in front. Startled by the noise, the Lady Volisia came to the gate, and watched them, with anxious eyes, until they were hidden by the trees. Then tears trickled down her cheeks. She never saw the boys again. The wild young creatures made a great circuit in the forest, hurling their spears at everything, and running at speed until they came to the willow thicket where the Stillingfleet brook empties itself into the river Ouse. Here they paused to regain their breath. Presently Bergliot, in looking through the leafy branches of the willows at the surface of the water, saw, sitting on a tree trunk on the edge of the bank, what she thought was a nixy or water sprite. It was singing, she fancied, but the sound was scarcely audible. "There is a nixy," she said in a whisper to the rest, pointing to where it sat. "Let us kill it," said Hereric. They all ran forward; the boys pushed the little creature into the rushing stream with the butt ends of their spears, while the girl threw a needle at it, which is supposed to be fatal to such sprites. Then they all sang the cruel spell and ran away:— Nix, Nix—needle in water,
Virgin casteth steel in water
Thou sink and we flee. As they ran they could hear a long wailing cry, and when they stopped out of breath it appeared to all of them to form itself into these ominous words:— Dreadful your doom,
Slaves shall ye be,
Kindred and home
Never to see. They looked at each other half–frightened, and Bergliot began to cry. She said she wanted to go home. The boys embraced her tenderly and kissed her, and Coelred told Shuprak to see her safe back. As she turned away she asked them to tell Oswith, if they saw him, that she hoped he would come to visit her very soon. She waved a farewell to them with her hand. Reluctantly, and after casting many longing glances at his young masters, the dog went home with the little girl. "Let us defy the omen," said Coelred: "let us go further afield to satiate our Berserker rage," and all three again plunged into the forest. They ran for hours, hurling their spears at every creature that came in sight. At length, on emerging from the forest into the heathy expanse of Skipwith Common, they paused for a moment to look round. Close by there was a huge wild bull of a dun colour, with spreading horns, and three cows. Coelred uttered a triumphant cry and hurled his spear at the bull's shoulder. In a moment the ferocious creature was upon him, threw him down amongst the heather, and would have gored and crushed him, if Porlor had not diverted its attention by driving his spear into its flank. It turned round foaming with rage just as Porlor sprang behind a tree and Hereric faced it on one knee with his spear pointed. Wild with rage, it dashed in his direction, then halted with its head up, its eyes glaring, and foam dropping from its mouth. Coelred had been stunned for a minute. He now ran up and attacked the bull in the flank, prodding it with his spear. Daunted by the vigour of the attack, the bull now galloped across the common, followed by the cows. The boys gave chase, shouting and brandishing their weapons, coming up with their antagonist amidst dense underwood, where they succeeded in killing it with their spears. As the noble creature fell there was a downpour of rain and a loud clap of thunder, and amidst the peals the boys thought they again heard the ominous curse of the nixy:— Dreadful your doom,
Slaves shall ye be,
Kindred and home
Never to see. They dashed wildly on, they knew not whither. Porlor started a wild–cat, which sprang up a tree. He followed with marvellous agility. The chase turned fiercely at bay, and Coelred climbed up the tree to help. There was a desperate fight among the branches, and the boys got some nasty scratches, but at last one of them plunged a knife into the cat, it lost its hold, and fell to the ground. Meanwhile Hereric had roused a badger from its hole and kept it at bay with his spear. Its mouth was open and its rows of sharp teeth glistened. It would have gone hard with the Atheling if Coelred had not sprung upon it from behind and plunged his knife into a vital part. Once more the three boys resumed their wild career, with the ominous words of the nixy ringing in their ears. The sun was low when they emerged from the forest and came out on the banks of the muddy Ouse just at the point where the Wharfe joins it. They were now exhausted and hungry, so tired indeed that they could run no more without rest. They were unhappy too, and frightened at the sounds which seemed to form themselves into such dreadful words. The three boys threw themselves on the grass, and in a minute they were fast asleep. They had not seen a long black boat, like some foul snake, creeping stealthily down the Wharfe to its confluence. It was flat–bottomed and of unusual beam, but low in the water. The crew consisted of half a dozen villainous–looking ruffians, sent by a vessel anchored at the mouth of the Humber to Calcaria on pretence of selling some cloths, and the return cargo was to be stolen. They were sea–thieves and cut–throats. As they descended the Wharfe they saw Forthere and Sivel fishing on the bank and suspecting no evil. Four of them sprang on shore, and in a minute the lads were bound hand and foot, gagged, and thrown into the bottom of the boat. A few minutes afterwards they came in sight of the confluence, just in time to see Coelred, Porlor, and Hereric throw themselves on the grass by the opposite shore. Very stealthily the boat was brought under the bank. Coelred and Hereric were overpowered and bound before they were half awake. Porlor, however, was aroused by the footsteps. He had time to draw his knife and make a desperate resistance, gashing the arm of one ruffian and stabbing another in the hand. But he was quickly overpowered. His two companions were thrown into the bottom of the boat, where, to their horror and astonishment, they found Forthere and little Sivel in like plight. Porlor was put across a thwart and given an unmerciful beating with a thong of leather, which, in the dialect of the cut–throats, was called a lorum. His young friends were nearly mad with impotent rage as they heard the ferocious blows being showered on the child's body. At last he was thrown, bruised and bleeding, among the rest; but, bound as they were, they could do nothing to console or help him. It all seemed like a horrible dream; they scarcely knew where they were, and could do nothing but sob as they were roused at intervals from a half–dozing state. Meanwhile the boat went swiftly down the Ouse with an ebb–tide. The villains kept a sharp look–out on either bank, and, when half a mile above Hemingborough, they saw a boy bathing, and swimming out boldly as the tide had slackened. Thinking no harm, he caught hold of one of the boat's oars to rest. In an instant his wrists were seized, he was bound hand and foot, and thrown into the bottom of the boat with the others. It was Oswith. He was quite naked, and one of the crew threw a coarse cloth over him. The grief of the rest of the kidnapped children was redoubled at the sight of their beloved friend, the fearless son of Guthlaf. He was as little able to understand what had really happened as they were, yet he tried to console them. He whispered that he would look out for chances of escape, and reminded them that at least they had the consolation of being together. All through the night the boat kept her course down the Humber, with the tide against them during the first watch, but with a fair wind. Off the mouth of the Trent the sea–thieves stopped and made fast, until they were joined by another smaller boat coming down that river, which went alongside and passed another boy on board. In spite of their misery and discomfort, the kidnapped children were fast asleep while the boat was waiting in the mud, and they were aroused by another little boy being thrown amongst them. He said that he was Godric the son of Ulchel, a thegn of the Gainas. He seemed to be as small as Sivel. After a time the seven forlorn children went fast asleep as the boat was rowed down the Humber, and finally came alongside the vessel whose leader had sent the thieves on their kidnapping errand. This vessel was small, but suited for sea–voyages, and with much more beam than was allowed for an ordinary fighting ship. Her lines were indeed very unlike those of a dragon ship of the Vikings. For she was built primarily for trading, and in the second place for piracy, whenever the opportunity offered, and she had a capacious hold, now half full of merchandise. She was lying off Ravenspur, the site of the Roman station of PrÆtorium, under the shelter of Y–kill, the Ocellum Promontorium, now Spurn Head. The seven boys were bundled out of the boat and into the ship's hold like so many bales of goods, and the boats were turned adrift. They had been stolen. The vessel then got under weigh and hoisted her single sail, shaping a southerly course, with a strong breeze which soon freshened into a gale. The stolen children nestled together and slept long, for they were quite worn out with anxiety and grief, to which three of them had added a day of intense excitement and fatigue. They awoke quite famished and were given some food, but throughout the voyage the poor children were treated with vile inhumanity, half–starved, and exposed to the seas which washed into the vessel during the gale. They could not have survived many more days of such treatment. Fortunately the wind was fair, and the voyage had been a short though a stormy one, when the piratical thieves anchored in the port of Amfleet. It is not known whence they came nor what land was disgraced by having bred them, nor does it matter. They were paid and employed by a trader with more humanity but as little conscience as themselves.
CHAPTER VI MYSTACON Mystacon was the principal trader between Gaul and the northern countries on the one hand, and Italy and the East on the other, during the latter part of the sixth century. He was a Greek, a native of Crete, brought up by a merchant at Massilia, and his life had been devoted to mercantile pursuits, in which his cunning, ability, and absence of all scruples had enabled him to amass wealth, which he sought by every means to increase. In those days Brunehaud, a Gothic princess from Spain, was Regent of the eastern part of France, called Austrasia, her husband, King Sigebert, having been assassinated in 575. Neustria, which included northern and central France, was governed by Queen Fredegonda as Regent to her little son Clotaire II. A handsome woman of low extraction, she had waded through murders and other evil deeds to her lofty position, in which she maintained herself by her strong will. Capable of any crime to gain her objects, courageous and unscrupulous, she must have possessed great ability and astuteness to have been successful in maintaining her power so long in that turbulent age. Her husband, Chilperic I., died by poison administered by his wife in 584, and Fredegonda was Regent from that year until 596. Gontran, the brother of Sigebert and Chilperic, was King of Burgundy. A fourth brother, Charibert, King of Paris, who was father of Bertha, the wife of Ethelbert, King of Kent, died without male issue in 570. These four brothers were the grandsons of Clovis. The Greek trader, when he found that the fierce nation of the Franks was ruled over by the Queen–Regents, Brunehaud and Fredegonda, hastened to propitiate them by presents, and to secure their patronage. As regards Fredegonda he had been successful. He consulted her wishes, and brought her the luxuries she required both from the north and south, always as free offerings. In return he was under her protection, his goods were to pass unmolested through her dominions, and he was to be assisted by her officers. He had been granted similar privileges by King Gontran of Burgundy, whose country included the shores of the Rhone from Lyons to the sea. In his northern trade Mystacon employed agents to bring him valuable furs and amber, and even unicorns' horns, from the countries bordering on the Baltic, tin from Cornwall, and occasionally he paid sea–thieves to kidnap young children from the north, who fetched high prices in the markets of Rome and Constantinople. He had a shed at Ambleteuse where he received his northern merchandise, preferring that little port to the neighbouring harbour of Gessoriacum (Boulogne), because a Frankish officer, from whom his gifts had secured him favour and protection, was stationed there with a strong body of disciplined followers. Mystacon had been several days at Ambleteuse, his merchandise was stored in the shed, and his servants had pack–horses ready to convey it southward along the old Roman road, when the vessel from the Humber anchored off the port and landed its cargo. The crew was composed of such dangerous villains that the merchant induced the Queen–Regent's officer to post armed men behind his shed, before he ventured to confer with them. Besides a pile of beaver skins and other commodities, seven boys were put on shore. They stood on the sandy beach close together, the little ones clinging to the three bigger lads. All were wet through, and looked half–starved and miserable. Porlor and little Godric were clinging to Coelred. Sivel had his arms round Forthere, and Hereric nestled under the sheltering arm of the son of Guthlaf. Oswith the fearless, who was nearly naked, with only a bit of sackcloth round his loins, alone maintained a defiant look. There was no longer any sign or token of Berserker rage among the rest. The wily Greek came forward to look at them. He saw their great beauty and their value, but he also saw from their appearance that they had been cruelly treated. The sea–thieves demanded the payment he had promised, so much for each. "But they are not in good condition," he remonstrated; "the price must be reduced." A livid mark on Porlor's neck caught his quick, searching eye. He pulled down the boy's shirt, and saw that his back was covered with weals, the effect of the cruel flogging he had received. "Damaged goods," he said. Then, turning to his servants, he told them to take the boys into the shed, and to clothe and feed them. "I will only pay half–price for damaged goods," he repeated, turning to the spokesman of the sea–thieves. "That little wild–cat used his knife on one of us," the man answered, "and the flogging served him right." "What is that to me, my friend?" rejoined Mystacon, in a low but irritating voice. "You can please yourselves about damaging your goods, that is your business, but you cannot expect to get the same price as if they were not damaged. If a heavy bale was to fall and hurt one of you, of course it is open to you to cut and slash it if you please, and it may serve the bale right. That I do not dispute. But you must not expect the same price in the market as if the bale had not been cut and slashed. I can only pay you half–price for the boys." The kidnappers could not follow the subtle argument of the Greek, but they began to look dangerous. The merchant retreated back a few paces. "Pay us what you promised, thou cursed cheat, or we will kill thee and the boys too." He retreated rapidly back and cried out for help, as the villains drew their long knives and rushed towards him. In another minute they were all overpowered and thrown on the ground by the Frankish guard. The officer came forward and suggested capital punishment, offering to hang them in a row. "It is the just and proper treatment," said Mystacon, "of those who try to extort full price for damaged goods from unwary traders. As soon as your laudable proposal has been carried into effect, I shall have pleasure in requesting your lordship to accept the large sum which the criminals refused." Another hour had not passed before twenty bodies were hanging from the branches of the stunted pines round Ambleteuse, and before the Frankish officer had an additional reason for extending his protection to the wily merchant. Mystacon set out with his train of laden horses and attendants early next morning, following the old Roman road by Amiens, Soissons, and Autun to Lyons. The boys had been warmly clothed and fed, and had slept well, nor were they prevented from having a morning bath in the sea. Two pack–horses were allowed them, so that they could ride by turns, while the rest trotted along on the road–side. They found that they could understand much that was said to them by the servants, and when Mystacon spoke the Frank dialect slowly and clearly, they could comprehend the meaning of nearly every word. For in those days there was little difference between the Frankish and other Teutonic dialects. The journey across Picardy restored the health and strength, and revived the spirits, of the English lads. This limestone tract, with its keen fresh air, arable surface, and well–watered meadows, reminded them of the country round Calcaria. At Samarobriva, or Amiens, they rested, and Mystacon was allowed to store his goods against the wall of the town, and to encamp there by the Roman gate of the Twins, whereon was carved Romulus and Remus suckled by the wolf. This was the first opportunity the boys had found of collecting their thoughts, and holding a serious consultation. Even now they scarcely understood what had happened or where they were. Their first words, as they sat among the bales, were words of grief at the sorrow and anxiety of their relations, who would search high and low through the woods, until at last they gave them up as dead. "Alca will give them hope and courage," said Coelred. "She will know that we are together, and she knows that we shall return. For we are to die in battle fighting for a righteous cause, and that cannot be anywhere but in England. She is praying now that the gods will watch over us, and her prayers are ever answered." These words, spoken with an air of conviction, comforted the rest. "We must suffer," said Oswith, "but that does not signify when we have such good reason for hope. Porlor has already suffered more than the rest of us." "At that I rejoice," said Porlor, whose little head had been teeming with ideas suggested by Mithras and the bull, ever since he had gazed on the sculpture at York. "Through suffering we shall all win the rewards prepared for the true and brave; and the thong those niddring thieves called lorum is no word of bane to me, but of good luck." "Nay, then," said Hereric, smiling, "we must fasten it to thy name and call thee Porlorlorum." "Let it be so," answered the imaginative child; "it will remind me, and all of us, in the happy years that will surely come when this darkness has been turned to light, that we had to pass through suffering to happiness and home." They then began to wonder what their position really was, and whither Mystacon was taking them. They had already discovered that he was a cunning liar, and they believed nothing he told them, although he had uniformly treated them with kindness. Forthere proposed to run away, and both Coelred and Oswith were inclined to some plan of making their way across country to the coast, and seizing a boat. But they would not attempt it unarmed. Alca had told them that little Porlor should give them counsel, and they all turned to him. "My rede is that we wait to learn more, and to see what will happen," he said. "I do not fear the distance this man is taking us from home, if we have knowledge. A short distance with ignorance means disaster, perhaps death. A very great distance is easy to go over with knowledge of all the obstacles, and of the way to overcome or avoid them. The wisdom of Alca and her insight will bring comfort to our parents. It is for us to remember her words, to follow them, to wait and watch until the time comes for us to go home. I know the time will come, and the gods will watch over us." "We will wait and watch," they all said. It was now dark. They laid their weary heads down side by side, and passed into a happy sleep. Their dreams were of home and kindred. The boys had their morning bath in one of the numerous bright little trout streams, bordered by aspen and willow, which flow down to the sands of St. Valery. Later in the morning, as they sat talking near the Gate of the Twins, a monk came out in a long dark–coloured cassock, with a rope round his waist. He was a young man, with a patient look in his grey eyes, and a circlet of thick fair hair round his tonsure. When he saw the lads, he stopped to improve the occasion. He asked them if they knew what had happened at that Gate of the Twins, and he told them the story of St. Martin. "Out of this gate," he said, "long, long ago, a brave and virtuous Roman soldier named Martin rode, on a very frosty winter's day. He had a cloak wrapped closely round him, and as he passed along the causeway he saw a poor man shivering with cold. Martin drew his sword and, cutting his cloak in two, he gave half to the beggar. This was charity, the greatest of all virtues, which covers a multitude of sins. Martin was afterwards baptized in the half cloak, and became a Christian and a Saint." After a pause he asked, "Are you Christians?" Coelred answered that they did not so much as know that there were such people as Christians. "But," he added, "we know very well that it is good to give to those who are in need; for the Princess Alca has taught us." "We know it," said Hereric, "and we try to remember to act as she has taught us, but we are not always able to do right." The hearts of all the boys were warming towards the young monk. There was a longer pause, and then the monk told them that they must be baptized into the fold of Christ. He raised his voice. "The Son of God went down into hell, but now He has risen from the dead." The boys started to their feet with looks of astonishment and deep interest. These were almost the very words spoken by the Princess Alca, under the ash tree at the foot of Garraby Hill. "Then Alca is right!" they exclaimed. "She is always right. The Son of God has risen." Porlor went on to ask about baptism, when Mystacon came forward. He had been listening to the latter part of the conversation, and did not like it. Concealing his displeasure by a forced smile, he invented a lie on the spur of the moment. "By the order of the Bishop of Noviodunum," he said, addressing the monk, "these Pagan youths are being conducted to his city to be duly instructed and baptized. I thank you for the interest you have taken in them, but your help is not needed." There was nothing more to be said. The good monk gave his blessing to the boys, and went on his way, while Mystacon issued hurried orders for the pack–horses to be loaded, and in another hour he and his merchandise were again journeying southward; but he kept well clear of the city of Noviodunum (Soissons). The most anxious part of the journey for the merchant was approaching. He was bound to visit the Queen, wherever she might be, both on the way north and south, and she took whatever she fancied without paying. Even this heavy and uncertain tax generally left a wide margin of profit, but it was a source of anxiety, and he now feared that she might take a fancy to the beautiful English boys. Fortune, however, favoured him. Fredegonda was, he had ascertained, at the manor of Braine–sur–la–Vesle, between Soissons and Rheims, but he had also learned that she was on the point of departure. He cunningly timed his arrival on the day that she was to begin her journey, in the hope that she would accept a present, and, in the hurry of starting, forgo her usual practice of rummaging through the whole contents of his caravan. Late on the third evening after leaving Amiens, Mystacon encamped outside the gates of Braine–sur–la–Vesle. This Merovingian palace was an immense farm, with large unfortified wooden houses, stables, barns, and cow–sheds. In the morning the Franks in attendance on the royal family began to march out of the great enclosure. They had a fierce air, with large and vigorous bodies, inured to cold and hunger. Their favourite weapon, the battle–axe with a short handle, rested on their shoulders, and they wore their long hair tied up over their foreheads, forming a kind of aigrette, then falling behind like a horse's tail. The long line of the escort of warriors was followed by several waggons drawn by oxen. In the first sat Fredegonda, with the little King Clotaire, then only four years of age. She was a most formidable–looking woman, with a fierce, cruel glance in her large black eyes, and a haughty bearing. Mystacon advanced in a cringing attitude, offering a valuable present, which she accepted, as he had hoped, without stopping, ordering it to be put into one of the waggons. As the royal train passed out of sight, the merchant gave orders to continue the journey to Lyons, by way of Bibracte or Augustodunum (Autun). The boys had seen the warriors, and the great lady in her waggon. But they had been told nothing. If Porlor had known that it was the Queen of the Franks, his rede would probably have been to rush forward, tell her that Hereric was an Atheling of Deira, and claim her protection. But they knew nothing, were kept behind, and were only allowed to peep between the bales. At Lyons the merchant embarked his goods in a large boat, went down the Rhone to its mouth, and then sailed in a vessel from Massilia to the mouth of the Tiber. Before embarking, the boys again had a long and anxious talk over their position. Mystacon had told them lie after lie about their destination, and they were in great perplexity. He said that he had saved them from death at the hands of the sea–thieves, that he was their saviour and benefactor, and that the journey was for their good. They had thought of telling their captor that Hereric was an Atheling, but on the whole it seemed to them that the knowledge might increase the danger, if it existed, and that their wisest course was to keep silence about themselves. They had enjoyed the journey through France. The sight of a strange country and of many things that were new to them had amused and interested them, and they now looked as bright and fresh as on the morning when the Berserker rage so unfortunately seized upon gentle Hereric, and led to such an unlooked–for catastrophe. Their fate was now sealed. After their embarkation in the boat on the river Rhone, it would not be many days before they would enter the imperial city and become the victims of Mystacon's greed.
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