"'Now in gaining the kingdom which has been the right of the Danish kings--if tribute paid for conquest in old time means aught--at least since the days of Guthrum, if not before, I have used the help of this earl, for Mercia was ours by right, as in the Danelagh. I will not say that his way of helping me has been what one would wish, but in war one uses what weapons one can find. For his help to me the Earl of Mercia has been well paid. Now, what shall be given to the man who betrayed to death the foster son who believed in him as in himself?' "Then I, Thrand the freeman of Colchester, nowise caring what befell me, answered in a loud voice: "'Let him die. He is not fit to live.' "'Slay him, therefore,' said Cnut. "Thereat Streone cried for mercy once, grovelling. And he having done so, I lifted the axe I bore and slew him, even on the high place at the king's feet. "Then one in the hall said in a great voice: "'Justice is from the hands of Cnut the king.' "There went round a murmur of assent to that, and I called to me another of Thorkel's men, a Colchester man of your guard also, and while all held their peace and Cnut stood still looking at what was done, stirring neither hand nor foot, but with his eyes burning bright with rage and his head a little forward, as an eagle that will strike, we two bore the traitor's body to the window that overhangs the Thames, and cast it thereout into the swift tide. "After that I went my way down the hall, and the king cried: "'Let the man go forth.' "So that none spoke to me or withstood me. "When I got to the street it was dark, and it seemed to me that the best thing that I could do was to fly. So I went by day and night, and I am here." So that was the traitor's end. And I was glad, for I knew that England was free from her greatest foe. Justly was Edric Streone slain, and all men held that it was well done. Nor did any man ever seek Thrand to avenge the earl's death on his slayer. I think none held him worth avenging. I bade Thrand hold his peace concerning his part in this matter, for a while at least, lest I should lose him. After Streone's death it was plain that Cnut was king indeed, for his Danish jarls knew him too well to despise him. They went each to his place, and the land began to smile again with the peace that had come, and Cnut sent Eirik the jarl home to Denmark with the host, as I have said. Chapter 16: By Wormingford Mere.