King Olaf's Kinsman: A Story of the Last Saxon Struggle against the Danes in the Days of Ironside and CnutWhistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
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King Olaf's Kinsman: A Story of the Last Saxon Struggle against the Danes in the Days of Ironside and Cnut
Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
Olav II, King of Norway, 995-1030 -- Fiction
Thus, by the time we came over the great spur of the Downs that
ends in Beachy Head, and looked over all Pevensea level to the
Penhurst woods and hills beyond, I and Uldra were very good
friends, and Relf was pleased that it should be so, and rode
between us in high content.
It was midday when we passed the last hill of the Downs where the
mighty giant lies like a shadow on the grass by Wilmington; then we
saw the gray castle where Wulfnoth bided, away to our right; and
then along the steep ridge inland and down to Boreham, where I must
tell the maiden of the great sea wave, and how Olaf saved me. And
so we came to Penhurst in its valley among the trees, and the ride
was over.
Now there is no need to say what welcome was at that house, whether
for its lord, or for the warrior who had been nursed back to life
there, or for the new-come homeless maiden. Relf was not wrong when
he told her that she should be as a daughter in the house.
Some of the men had ridden on, so that the homecoming feast should
be spread for us, and there was the lady at the courtyard gates,
and with her Sexberga, and a tall, handsome young thane, whom I
knew for Eldred of Dallington; and there was Father Anselm, and
Spray the smith, and many more whose faces I was glad to see again.
And among all those faces were nought but welcoming looks--save
from one only. I did not note this, being taken up with watching
how they greeted Uldra, for that seemed to me to be the only thing
that I cared about. If I had any thought of Sexberga now, it was as
if she had been my sister, and I hoped that she would be pleased
with the maiden who was thus brought to her unlooked for. I need
have troubled nought about that, however, for she and her mother
were alike in many things, and if I was sure of the one, so might I
have been of the other in all that had to do with kindness.
But if I had looked beyond Sexberga to where her young thane stood
I should have met with a black scowl enough, though I could not
have told why this should be his greeting for me. I had but seen
him once before, and that was at Earl Wulfnoth's feast to Olaf when
we first came.
That was an evening to be remembered as most pleasant when, after
the feast, we sat and spoke of all that had happened since I left
Penhurst. I told them all the tale of warfare, and of Olaf's deeds,
and of the winning back of my sword, and how that helped our
meeting with Egil.
And when Spray the smith, who sat listening, with the other men in
the hall below the high place, heard of that escape from the Danes,
he said, without ceremony:
"Master, well I knew that you would never be cast into prison."
"That was a saying of yours, Spray," said I. "May the luck last."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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