A King's Comrade: A Story of Old Hereford — John Shaqi
A King's Comrade: A Story of Old HerefordWhistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
History
A King's Comrade: A Story of Old Hereford
Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
Ethelbert, Saint, -794 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Offa, King of the Mercians, -796 -- Fiction
As to the trouble that had fallen on the land, that was another
matter. I did not rightly take it in, but it was heavy on his mind.
For myself, therefore, I was content enough; I had no reason to
think that the Danes were likely to treat me evilly in any way.
Nor did they. On the other hand, as if I were one of themselves,
they set me by the chief when they made a feast presently, and did
not ask me questions about the country; which was what I feared.
Most likely their riders had learned all they would from others.
When it grew dark they lighted great fires along the wharves, and
sat by them in their arms, drinking the Weymouth ale, and eating
the Dorset fare they had taken. The ship guards went ashore, and
their places were taken by others, and I saw strong pickets passing
out of the town to guard the ways into it. Thorleif would not risk
aught in the way of safeguard. After that was done, those whose
watch off it was went on board the ships, and slept under the
shelter of the gunwales, wrapped in their thick sea cloaks. They
gave me one, and bade me rest on the after deck by the chiefs; and
in spite of the strangeness of everything I slept dreamlessly,
being tired in mind as well as in body.
Next morning things were to all seeming much the same. The Danes
had kept their word, and all was peaceful. There being nothing more
in the town left worth taking, they stowed everything carefully,
and made all ready for sailing. And then, halfway between noon and
sunrise, Elfric rode back.
I did not see him, for he was not suffered to come beyond the line
of outposts, and all that he had to say, of course, I did not know
at the time. One came and told Thorleif that the thane waited to
speak with him, and he was gone from the ships for half an hour
with Thrond. When he came back his face was grimmer than ever, and
a red scar which crossed his forehead was burning crimson. He
stayed to speak to the men on the wharves, and some order he gave
was passed from one to another, and in ten minutes every man had
left the wharves and had passed inland, with him at their head.
"Ho, that is it!" said one of the ship guard from the deck below
me.
"What is it?" I asked, for I had been talking to the man in all
friendly wise, of ship and sea and strange lands.
"Why, your folk will not pay, and so we must needs take payment for
ourselves in the viking's way."
I said no more, nor did the man. I think he was sorry for me; but
it was not long before he called to me and pointed to the hillside
above the town. On it was a black throng of folk, slowly coming
down toward us.
"Your people coming to drive us out," he said, laughing a short
laugh.
Then he and his comrades bustled about the ship, setting every
loose thing in place, until the decks were clear. In the other
ships the guard were at the same work, and at last they cast off
all the shore lines but one at stem and stern. The ships might sail
at the moment their men were on board if they were beaten back.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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