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
She thought a little, and then asked me if she might not go to her
father, wherever he was. But I told her that he was but a guest of
Osric, as it seemed. Then she said that she would go to her aunt, who
was the prioress of the White Nuns, and bide in the nunnery walls till
all was safe. And that seemed a good plan, both to me and Wulfhere, for
it would--though this we said not to Alswythe--set us free to fight,
as there we might not come, and she would be safe without us.
Then I told Wulfhere how we could reach that house without going through
the crowded town, and so turned to the right, skirting round in the
quiet lanes.
The gray dawn began to break as we saw the nunnery before us, and it was
very cold. But Alswythe pointed to a crimson glow behind us, as we
topped the last rise, saying that the sun would be up soon.
Wulfhere and I looked at each other. That glow was not in the east, but
shone from Matelgar's hall--in flames.
And then we feigned cheerfulness, and said that it would be so; and
Alswythe smiled on me, though she was pale and overwrought with the
terror she would not show, and the long, dark, and cold journey.
We came to the nunnery gate and knocked; and the old portress looked out
of the wicket and asked our business, frightened at the glint of mail
she saw. But Alswythe's voice she knew well, as she answered, begging
lodging for herself and her maidens, till this trouble was over.
It was no new thing for a lady of rank to come into that quiet retreat
with her train when on a journey; and after a little time, while the
portress told the prioress, the doors were thrown open, and we rode into
the great courtyard, where torches burnt in the dim gray morning light.
Then came the prioress, mother's sister to Alswythe, a tall and
noble-looking lady, greeting her and us kindly, and so promising safe
tending to her niece so long as she needed.
Here Alswythe must part from me, giving me but her hand to kiss, as also
to Wulfhere, but there was a warm pressure on my hand for myself alone
that bided with me. And the prioress thanked us for our care, not
knowing me in the half light, and in mail, and so were we left in the
courtyard, where an old lay brother, brought from the near monastery,
showed us the stabling and provender for our horses, and the loft where
the men should sleep, outside the walls of the inclosed building.
Here Wulfhere bade the men and boys remain, tending their horses until
he should return, or until orders came from their master himself or from
the lady Alswythe; for they were thralls, and not men who should be with
the levy.
Then he and I went out into the roadway and walked away until we were
alone.
"What now?" I asked.
"I must join my master, telling him what I have done, and that the lady
is safe. So shall I march with the rest most likely. What shall I say of
your part in this?"
"Nought," I answered.
"Maybe that is best--just now," he agreed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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