But Wulfnoth turned viking; and would have nought to do with Ethelred after that. His Sussex earldom was beyond reach of attack through the great Andred's-weald forests that keep its northern borders, and he could keep the sea line. So Ethelred left him alone, and Swein would not disturb him. But his help was worth winning, and Olaf thought that he might do it. So we sailed to Lymne, and then to Winchelsea, and there we heard that the earl and some of his ships were at his great stronghold of Pevensea, which lay not far westward along the coast. And we came there in the second week of September, when the time was near that the ships should be laid up in their winter quarters. As we came off the mouth of the shallow tidal haven that runs behind the great castle, whose old Roman walls seem strong as ever, a boat from the shore came off very boldly to speak with us. But we could see the sparkle of arms as some ships were manned in all haste lest we were no friendly comers. The leader of the boat's crew was a handsome boy of about fifteen, well armed and fearless, and he stepped on board Olaf's ship without mistrust when the king hailed him. "Who are you, and what would you on these shores?" he asked before we had spoken. Olaf laughed pleasantly in his quiet way, and answered: "I must know who asks me before I say aught." "Maybe that is fair," said the boy. "I am Godwine, son of Wulfnoth the earl." "Then you have right to ask," answered our king. "I am Olaf Haraldsson. I am a viking, and come in peace to see and speak with your father." The boy stared at the king in wonder for a moment. "Are you truly Olaf the Thick, who broke London Bridge?" he asked. "Well, I had some hand in it," answered Olaf laughing, "for I told the men when to pull, and when they pulled, the bridge came down. They did it and I looked on." Then young Godwine laughed also, and bade the king welcome most heartily, adding: "You must tell me all about the bridge breaking presently." "Nay; but Redwald my cousin, or Ottar my scald here will tell you more than I may." "Redwald is an Anglian name," said Godwine, taking my hand. "Are you English therefore?" "Aye, young sir, from East Anglian Bures, in Suffolk," I answered. "Are you Edric Streone's man then?" he said, dropping my hand suddenly and half stepping back. "I am not," I said pretty stoutly, for I was angry with Streone's way with Olaf--and with other ways of his. "Ulfkytel is our earl." "Aye, I have heard of him as an honest man," Godwine said. "Come ashore, King Olaf, and you other thanes, and there will be good cheer for you." "Can you steer us into the haven, young sir?" asked Rani, who stood by smiling to himself. "We must have the ships inside the island while the tide serves." "Aye, that I can," said the boy eagerly; "I take my own ship in and out without troubling any other to help."