CHAPTER X--EGWINA GOES AS A MESSENGER

"The king!" The Saxons fell back, their swords still half-suspended, and looked at him incredulously. Denewulf stood aghast. Adiva sank on a bench near her, while Egwina's face lighted up in joyful amazement.

"The king!" cried the youth, Ethelred. "How wot we that thou art the king?"

"Know ye the signet ring of the king?" The stranger drew a ring from his finger. It was of massive gold, the bezel being engraved with a dove within an olive wreath.

"I know it!" cried the one called Athelnoth. "Once the king's gerefa came to me as I abode in mine house at Taunton with commands for a palfrey for his lord. He bore with him the royal signet ring, and this is it." He knelt before the stranger.

"The king! The king! It is in sooth the king!" The glad cry went up with a shout as the Saxons pressed round him. They knelt before him, kissing his hands in their joy. Alfred turned to Denewulf:

"Old friend, hast thou naught to say? Well have ye done for your king when ye thought that he was but a poor wayfarer. Is he less welcome because he is a king?"

"No!" cried Denewulf, recovering himself. "By all the saints, no! That thou hast honored my dwelling by thy presence when in Wessex there were many so much more worthy, gives pleasure to my heart."

"But none more leal," returned Alfred, gazing on him kindly.

Denewulf pressed the king's hand again and again, while over Adiva's face came a curious look. It was a blending of triumph at the thought of having sheltered no less a personage than the king, awe at his presence, and fear of the sharp words which she had more than once addressed to him.

"My lord," she cried, "thou wilt not hold against a poor woman the sharpness of her tongue, wilt thou? Thou wottest how pointed it becomes when the temper is overwrought. And to think that I asked thee to mind the loaves. Ah, me!"

The king laughed.

"Fear naught, dame. I should have heeded the bread. That was the task assigned me, and he who would do well in great things must look after the little ones."

"True; but thou must have had much upon thy mind, and then to be pestered with woman's work."

"As thou thyself said, 'Cares of state burthened not my mind at mealtime,'" laughed Alfred. "Nay, nay," as Adiva grew red in her confusion, "heed not the sport, good dame. Kind hast thou shown thyself, and thy king holds thee in tender affection."

The good woman swelled with pride. Just then one of the Saxons cried: "The sun is setting! Come! let us away, and proclaim that we have found the king."

Adiva started, and turned to Egwina. "Child," she whispered, "did not the wicca say that we should know who he was 'ere set of sun? And it is the king! Well-a-day! I knew that he was gentle. But listen!"

"No," the king was saying, "go not yet, dear friends. There is much that I would say, and if these kind people will bear with us, I would that ye should remain the night. Much discourse would I have with ye."

"Use my poor hut as thou wilt," said Denewulf, heartily. "It is thine, my king."

Alfred smiled at him a smile full of sweetness.

"Then, by thy good pleasure, they stay. Come join us, friend Denewulf, and help us by thy counsel, for thou art ready of wit and wise in the lore of the forest."

So saying, the king sat down by the fire, and the others sat with him. When Egwina would have withdrawn, he hindered her.

"Stay, little one, at thy accustomed place. Am I not still thy friend?"

Thus adjured, the maiden sat by his side as was her wont, while the king turned to the Saxons.

"Ye have said that the people murmur at the oppression of the Danes," he said. "Think ye that they would rise against them?"

"When the people know of thy whereabouts," returned the oldest of the group, whom the others called Athelnoth, "naught can prevent them from rising. Oft have they wondered what had become of thee, and some mourned thee as dead. It will glad their hearts to know that thou art alive."

"Yet they came not at my summons," mused the king. "And I must hide, perforce, lest any, knowing of my whereabouts, should bewray me to Guthrum."

"Think not too hardly of them, my lord and king," cried Athelnoth eagerly. "Fruitless seemed the task of resistance. Their brethren in Mercia and East Anglia dwelt among the Northmen in seeming peace. Now they see that 'Death is preferable to the shame of servitude.'"

"I think not less of them," said the noble Alfred, "but only how best to relieve them of their bondage. I think it not wise that ye should spread broadcast the news that I live and meditate an uprising, lest it reach the ears of the Dane. Everything depends upon secrecy and the suddenness of attack."

"What then shall we do?" queried Athelnoth.

"Have any of ye aught to suggest?" Alfred glanced at the group around him. "Ethelred, thou art quick to think, what sayest thou?"

Ethelred had remained silent since the king had declared himself, and beyond the greeting given to him had said nothing.

"Naught, my lord," he now replied. "Why shouldst thou heed the words of him who hath twice this day drawn sword on his king?"

"Marry, boy! 'Twas but the hot-headiness of youth. That thou art leal to the king was shown when thou wouldst have slain him who refused to drink to him. I trust thee, Ethelred. Thy quickness in a few short years will be replaced by maturity of judgment. The one precedes the other. Think not ere the down on thy chin hath given place to one of manlier fashion that thou wilt have the wisdom of a sage. Sit up, man, and help us."

"Then," said the youth, mollified, "I would advise, my lord and king, that the people be not yet told of thy whereabouts. Tell only those ealdormen and others whom thou mayest need who can be trusted. In this way can we know those who are leal, and if aught can be done."

"Well and wisely hast thou spoken," declared the king. "If the Saxons will rally round my standard as of yore, the Dragon will sweep the Raven from the land. But there should be some place of meeting--some spot to become ready."

"My king," spoke Denewulf, "if I may be so bold as to suggest something. Not far from here, at the meeting of the Thone and the Parret, there lies an island surrounded by morasses. A whole army might lie concealed in its fens and none be the wiser."

"Denewulf, thou, too, art wise, and hast spoken well. To-morrow will we wend to this island, and see it for ourselves."

Long into the night did the little band confer. Bright and early the next morning the whole party traversed the woods until they came to the island spoken of by Denewulf.

On the eastern boundary of the forest, on rising ground, was the isle, surrounded by dangerous marshes formed by the little rivers, Thone and Parret. The marshes were not fordable, but Denewulf brought from the rushes a little coracle, capable of bearing four, and soon the entire party stood on the island itself and examined it.

It contained about two acres covered with vast brakes of alder bush filled with deer and other game.

"The marshes are fordable only in summer, my king," said Denewulf, "and then only by those who know the secret."

"'Tis an ideal place for a fortress," returned Alfred, his keen eye taking in every detail. "Athelney will I call it. See, Denewulf, here will I build my fort. Then when the spring hath set in truly, will we sally forth."

Thus planning, the party returned to the cottage, and then with hearty farewells the Saxons started off to tell the glad news to those who were trustworthy.

During the days of waiting, matters at the hut went on as before. The lessons were resumed, and, though Adiva did not soon recover from her awe in the presence of the king, Egwina regarded him with a loving reverence.

One day he laid down the manual which he was conning with a sigh.

"What is it, my king?" asked Egwina. "What is it troubles thee? Dost think that the Saxons tarry too long in their coming?"

"Nay, child. I thought not of them, but of my family. Long hath it been since I have seen them, and I fain would know how they fare."

"The Lady Elswitha was with granther and me at Chippenham," remarked Egwina. "She was borne from us by the press of the throng during the night. She and the maiden whom they call Ethelfleda, and Edward the youth."

"Egwina, sayest thou so?" cried the king in surprise. "Why, child, thou hast never spoken of this before!"

"Have I not?" and the maiden was surprised in turn. "When we left the palace we were with the lady and her children." Then she proceeded to give an account of the matter, closing with, "Oft have I wondered what became of them."

"I can tell thee that," answered the king. "When morning dawned, as I searched for them, fearing that they might have been slain by the Dane, a bode came running with the tidings that they had taken refuge in the house of a ceorl in one of the villages. Quickly did I hasten to them, and then sent them into Somersetshire where they could dwell in safety. 'Twas not well for me to be with them, for thus would they be exposed to danger. Once only have I heard from them. That was by chance when I obtained the harp. I would send them some bode, but that I know not if the Saxons who come can be trusted, and Denewulf must be here. None know the secrets of the forest as he." He sighed again.

"My king," Egwina spake timidly.

"Yes, child."

"Why not send me? Much have I learned of the forest since I have been here, and can thread my way through its mazes in safety. In burghs I am still safe, for gleemen and gleemaidens are welcomed everywhere. Let me go to them."

"Thou, little one?" Alfred laid down his book in surprise. "Child, I could not send thee."

"Thou canst trust me. Thou wottest that life itself should be given ere I would bewray thee," spoke the girl earnestly. "Prithee let me be thy bode, my king."

"Child, thou art leal and true. I will send thee as thou wishest. Take this jewel; among Saxons it will pass thee without question from any if they be true to the king."

He gave her a jewel of gold as he spake. It was elaborately carved, and bore the inscription on one side, "Alfred had me made." Egwina took it reverently, and placed it in the folds of her tunic.

"Have no fear, my king," she said. "I shall reach them in safety."

With many misgivings on the part of the king, Egwina set forth on her journey.

Meanwhile, the Saxons were gathering at the cottage, and Alfred began to prepare Athelney for them. Spaces were cleared, and huts soon dotted the surface of the island. Under the eye of the king men raised strong fortifications, for these were to be made so that no Norseman could penetrate through them. Nerved by the hope of regaining liberty, the people worked cheerfully, spurred on by the example of their chief. Trusty messengers were sent to others of their countrymen, and each new accentuation of their numbers was hailed with acclamations, and the Saxons thus coming were greeted as brothers.

And while axes rung merrily in the woods, the people were not idle without. The smiths welded new and strong weapons; or, leaving those at home which they had, erected new forges on the island, and there, with no fear of the Dane, applied themselves to the task of supplying arms for the army.

The Northmen were conscious of something going on, but believing the king dead or his whereabouts unknown, connected not the stir among the people with him. While the hides were tanned for shields, and the iron melted for the swords, Adiva brought Gunnehilde to her dwelling, and there the two women spun a standard of pure white on which shone the golden dragon of Wessex. Many a spell did Adiva bid the wicca weave within its web that should bring victory to the royal Alfred. The Danish woman foreseeing the advantages that would accrue to her foster child, Denewulf, should the Saxon be victorious, read her runes and wove her spells as the dame wished.

Now it was drawing near Easter which fell upon the twenty-fifth day of March of that year, and Alfred, in order to facilitate access to the island, ordered a communication to be made with the land by means of a bridge, the entrance of which he secured by a fort.

Food was procured by hunting and fishing, and sallies forth upon the Danes who grew troubled as the inroads of this new foe became more frequent.

And the king uneasily awaited the return of Egwina.