King Alfred's Viking: A Story of the First English FleetWhistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
History
King Alfred's Viking: A Story of the First English Fleet
Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
Great Britain -- History -- Alfred, 871-899 -- Juvenile fiction
"King Ranald," she said, after a little silence, "I wonder if ever
a maiden was in such sad doubt as I. I cannot wish that these dear
ladies, who have made a friend of me, should see their folk beaten,
and maybe slain; and cannot wish that my own kin should be beaten
either. It seems that in either way I must find heavy sorrow."
That was true; but it was certain that her own people were the
cause of all the trouble, though I could not say so. I put it this
way:
"I think that if your people are driven off there will be peace the
sooner, and maybe they will not land when they find us waiting. I
know, too, that those who have loved ones in the battle that may be
are in a harder case than yours, dear lady."
Then she looked up at me once, and a flush came slowly over her
pale face, and she answered nothing. I thought that she felt some
shame that a warrior like her father should bide here, without
moving hand or foot, when the war horns were blowing. So I said:
"Harder yet would it be if the jarl were in the battle against our
friends. Then would the fear of his loss be a terror to you also."
Now came in Osmund, and straightway Thora rose up, turning away
from us both, and went from the hall. The jarl looked after her
curiously and sadly.
"This is a strange business for the girl," he said.
"She seems almost as troubled because you are not fighting as if
you were in danger by doing so," I answered, with that thought
still in my mind.
Thereat the jarl stared at me.
"What has put that into your head?" he asked.
I told him what she and I had said, adding that I feared I had
seemed to hint somewhat discomforting.
Then said Osmund, looking in my face with a half smile:
"She is glad I am honourably out of this business, and the trouble
is not that. There are one or two, maybe, whom she would like to
see as safe in the same way."
Then it flashed through my dull mind that perhaps I was one of
these, and the thought was pleasant to me.
"Well," I said, "there are the thane, and his young son, the king's
page, who is here. They have been very kind to her."
"Also a wandering king who took her out of danger," he said then.
"Ay; I shall be glad if she thinks of me."
There were a little laugh and a rustling behind us, and one said:
"Either you are the least conceited of men or the blindest, King
Ranald, or you would know what is amiss."
I turned, and saw the Lady Etheldreda herself, and I bowed to her
in much confusion.
"O you men!" she said. "Here you will let the poor girl break her
heart in silence, while you fight for glory, or somewhat you think
is glory, without a word to say that you care that she shall see
what you win. Of course she thinks of you, even night and day. How
else should it be, when you have been as a fairy prince to her?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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