“Why not send me? Much have I learned of the forest since I have been here, and can thread my way through its mazes in safety. In burghs I am still safe, for gleemen and gleemaidens are welcomed everywhere. Let me go to them.” “Thou, little one?” Alfred laid down his book in surprise. “Child, I could not send thee.” “Thou canst trust me. Thou wottest that life itself should be given ere I would bewray thee,” spoke the girl earnestly. “Prithee let me be thy bode, my king.” “Child, thou art leal and true. I will send thee as thou wishest. Take this jewel; among Saxons it will pass thee without question from any if they be true to the king.” He gave her a jewel of gold as he spake. It was elaborately carved, and bore the inscription on one side, “Alfred had me made.” Egwina took it reverently, and placed it in the folds of her tunic. “Have no fear, my king,” she said. “I shall reach them in safety.” With many misgivings on the part of the king, Egwina set forth on her journey. Meanwhile, the Saxons were gathering at the cottage, and Alfred began to prepare Athelney for them. Spaces were cleared, and huts soon dotted the surface of the island. Under the eye of the king men raised strong fortifications, for these were to be made so that no Norseman could penetrate through them. Nerved by the hope of regaining liberty, the people worked cheerfully, spurred on by the example of their chief. Trusty messengers were sent to others of their countrymen, and each new accentuation of their numbers was hailed with acclamations, and the Saxons thus coming were greeted as brothers. And while axes rung merrily in the woods, the people were not idle without. The smiths welded new and strong weapons; or, leaving those at home which they had, erected new forges on the island, and there, with no fear of the Dane, applied themselves to the task of supplying arms for the army. The Northmen were conscious of something going on, but believing the king dead or his whereabouts unknown, connected not the stir among the people with him. While the hides were tanned for shields, and the iron melted for the swords, Adiva brought Gunnehilde to her dwelling, and there the two women spun a standard of pure white on which shone the golden dragon of Wessex. Many a spell did Adiva bid the wicca weave within its web that should bring victory to the royal Alfred. The Danish woman foreseeing the advantages that would accrue to her foster child, Denewulf, should the Saxon be victorious, read her runes and wove her spells as the dame wished. Now it was drawing near Easter which fell upon the twenty-fifth day of March of that year, and Alfred, in order to facilitate access to the island, ordered a communication to be made with the land by means of a bridge, the entrance of which he secured by a fort. Food was procured by hunting and fishing, and sallies forth upon the Danes who grew troubled as the inroads of this new foe became more frequent.