A Thane of Wessex: Being a Story of the Great Viking Raids into SomersetWhistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
History
A Thane of Wessex: Being a Story of the Great Viking Raids into Somerset
Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
Great Britain -- History -- Anglo-Saxon period, 449-1066 -- Juvenile fiction
That pleased the collier well enough, and he said he would take me in,
and guide me where I would go next day. The other men wanted to ask me
news of the Moot, but I put them off, saying that I had not sat thereon,
but had passed there on my way from Sherborne. So they were content, and
asking the hermit for his blessing, they went their way.
Then the old priest took off the vestments which were over his brown
hermit garb, and giving them to the youths who had acted as his acolytes
bade them depart also, having given them some directions, and so we
three, the hermit, collier, and myself, were left alone by the hut.
The hermit bade the collier leave us, and he, evidently holding the old
man in high veneration, bowed awkwardly, and went to fill and relight
his kiln fires.
And then the old priest spoke to me.
"Sir, I was brought here, as you see, to drive away an evil spirit,
which this poor thrall said had appeared to him last night, and from
which he fled. Now all men know that these fens are haunted by fiends,
even as holy Guthlac found in the land of the Gyrwa's, [v] being sorely
troubled by them. But I have seen none, though I dwell in this fen much
as he dwelt, though none so worthy, or maybe worth troubling as he.
Know you what he saw? for I seem to see that your coming has to do with
this--" and the old man smiled a little.
Then I told him how I had come unexpectedly into the firelight, and that
the man had fled, adding that I was nigh worn out, and so, finding a
resting place, slept without heeding him; and then how little Turkil had
called me "Grendel", bidding me "spit fire for him to see".
At that the old man laughed a hearty laugh, looking sidewise to see that
Dudda was at work and unheeding.
"Verily," he said, "it is as I deemed, but with more reason for the
collier to fly than I had thought--for truly mail-clad men are never
seen here, and thy face, my son, is of the grimmest, for all you are so
young. I marvel Turkil feared you not--but children see below the
outward mask of a man's face."
Now as he said that, the old man looked kindly, but searchingly, at me,
and I rebelled against it: but he was so saintly looking that I might
not be angry, so tried to turn it off.
"Turkil the Valiant called me Grendel, Father. Also I think you came out
to exorcise the same by name, for I heard it in the Latin. But that was
a heathen fiend."
The hermit sighed a little and answered me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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