Well pleased, the bard and the maiden entered. The hall was a long room whose length was disproportionate to its width, and whose vaulted roof was blackened by the smoke of the fire which burned in its centre. In the upper end was a dais raised a step above the rest of the building. The walls were covered by silken hangings richly embroidered, which served the double purpose of ornamentation and to keep the wind out. For in those days so illy built were even the palaces of the kings that the candles were ofttimes extinguished by the gusts of air which came through the cracks and crevices of the buildings. Three long tables were ranged down the length of the apartment, filled with Alfred’s gesiths or retainers. In the centre of each table was a large boar’s head with an apple in its mouth. The room was decked with evergreens, conspicuous among them being the mistletoe, to which a traditionary superstition attached. The floor was covered with rushes and sweet herbs, and a number of dogs lay thereon close to the great fire, watching greedily for some chance tidbit, if any there were so unmannerly as to throw to them. Upon the dais stood an oval-shaped table handsomely carved, above which was a canopy of richly embroidered cloth. Around this table, reserved for the king’s family and guests of honor, were gathered two ladies and three small children, one boy and two girls. The king’s chair was empty. Behind the ladies stood two youths and a maiden of high rank, who served them with napkins and mead, and with a start of surprise, Egwina saw that the maiden was Ethelfleda and that one of the youths was her brother. The tables were laden with gold and silver plate, and each person had a knife with a jeweled hilt. Pages served the meat on spits, kneeling, and occasionally passed bowls of water in which the fingers were dipped before drying them on the napkins. Wulfhere and Egwina were given seats in the lower end of the hall among the other harpers, scops, bards, and gleemen. At their entrance every eye was turned inquiringly toward them. The reeve who had the feast in charge hastened to them. “Thy music hath enchanted the household. Prithee delight us again. The feast is deepening.” Nothing loth, Wulfhere complied readily; then, as the song was finished, without waiting for further request, his fingers swept the strings and he half sang, half recited, improvising as he went: