Chapter 4

At this time, when I take up my story again, I was two and twenty, not very tall indeed, but square in the shoulder, and well able to hold my own, at the least, with the athelings who were my comrades, at the weapon play or any of our sports. It would have been my own fault if I were not so, for there was no better warrior in all Ina's following than Owen, and he taught me all I knew. And that knowledge I had tested on the field more than once, for Ina had no less trouble with his neighbours than any other king in England, whether in matters of raiding to be stopped or tribute to be enforced. Since I was too old to serve the queen as page any longer I had been of his bodyguard, and where he went was not always the safest place on a field for us who shielded him.

A court is always changing, as men come and go again to their own places after some little service there, but Owen and I were of those to whom the court was home altogether. Owen was the king's marshal now, and I was in command of the house-carles, and had been so for a year or more. It was no very heavy post, nor responsible after all, for Ina's guard was the love of his people, and beyond these warriors from the freemen who served as palace guard and watch, were the athelings of the household, from whose number I had been chosen for this post by right of longest service more than for any other reason, as I think. I knew all the ins and outs of every house where Ina went, and had nothing fresh to learn in the matter. Still, if the men under me were few, the post had its own privileges, and was always held to lead to somewhat higher, and I was more than content therewith, for it kept me near Owen and the king, whom I loved next to my foster father.

I do not think that by this time any one knew, save the king, that I was not Owen's own son. I was wont to call him father always, and I cannot be blamed, for he was foster father and godfather to me, and well did he take the father's place to the orphan whom he had saved. And I had forgotten Eastdean, save as one keeps a memory of the home where one was a child. I never thought of it as a place that should have been mine, for neither the king nor Owen ever spoke to me concerning it. Sometimes, in remembrances of my father, I would wonder into whose hands the manors had passed, but rather in hopes that some day those who owned them now would suffer me to see that the grave where he lay was honoured, rather than as a matter which at all concerned me in any closer way.

For, since I was but a child, the court had been my home, with Owen as my father, and Ina the king as the loved guardian for whom I would gladly give my life in need. All my training and thoughts were centred here, not as what one calls a courtier at all, but as one of the household who feared the king and queen no more than Owen himself, and yet reverenced all three as those to whom all homage was due since he could remember.

Thus things were with us at the end of the tenth year after we left Aldhelm at Malmesbury, and now the court was at Glastonbury in fair Somerset, keeping the Christmastide there in the place that is the holiest in all England by reason of the coming thither of Joseph of Arimathea, and the first preaching of the Gospel in our land by him. It was not by any means the first time I had been in the place, and here I had some good friends indeed; for Ina loved the vale of Avalon well, and often came hither with a few of us, or with the whole court, to the house which he had made that he might watch the building of the wondrous church which he was raising over the very spot where the little chapel of the saint had been in the old days.

Fair is the place indeed, for it lies deep among green hills, and from the westward slope where the church stands, at their foot stretch great meres to lesser hills toward the sunset beyond. Very pleasant are the trees and flowers of the rich meadows of the island valley, and the wind comes but gently here even at Yuletide, hardly ruffling the clear waters that have given the place its name, "Inys Vitryn," and "Avalon" men called the place before we Saxons came, by reason of those still meres and the wondrous orchards which fear no frost among the hills that shelter them. The summer seems to linger here after it has fled from the uplands.

There was a goodly company gathered in Ina's hall for the twelfth night feasting. Truly, the hall was not so great as that in the palace at Winchester, but it was all the brighter for that reason. It was hard to get that great space well lighted and warmed at times, when the wind blew cold under eaves and through narrow windows; but here all was well lit and comfortable to look on and to feel also, as one sat and feasted with the sweet sedges of the mere banks deep under foot on the floor and the great fire in the hall centre near enough to every one. I think that this hall in Glastonbury was as pleasant as any that I know in all Wessex.

There was a great door midway in the southern side of the hall, and as one entered, to right and left along that wall ran the tables for the house-carles and other men of the lower ranks, and for strangers who might come in to share the king's hospitality and had no right to a higher place. Then at either end of the hall were cross tables, where the thanes and their ladies had their places in due order, above the franklins whose cross tables were next to those of the house-carles. And then, right over against the south wall and across the fire on the hearth, was the longest table of all, and in the midst of that was the high place for the king and queen and a few others. That dais was the only place where the guests did not sit on both sides of the tables, for the king's board stood open to the midst of the hall on its three low steps that he might see and be seen by all his guests, and be fitly served from in front.

On the hearth a great yule log burnt brightly, and all round the wall were set torches in their sconces, so that the hall was very bright. On the walls were the costly hangings that we took everywhere with us, and above them shone the spare arms and helms and shields of the house-carles, mixed with heads of boar and stag and wolf from the Mendips and Quantocks where Ina hunted, each head with its story. Up and down in the spaces between the tables hurried the servants who tended the guests, so that the hall was full of life and brightness from end to end. There was peace in all Wessex at this time, and so here was a full gathering of guests to the little town.

Ina and Ethelburga the queen were on the high place, and to their left was Herewald, the Somerset ealdorman, who lived in Glastonbury, and was a good friend of mine, as will be seen, with his fair daughter Elfrida, and on the right of the king was Nunna, his cousin, and his wife. Owen was next to Herewald, at one end of the high place, and at the other end was Sigebald, the Dorset ealdorman, under whom I had fought not so long ago. There were many others of high rank in the west to the right and left of these again at the long tables.

Indeed, there was but one whom I missed in all the gathering. My old friend Aldhelm was gone. He died in the last year, after having been Bishop of Sherborne for a little while. I missed him sorely, as did every man who knew him.

I do not think that if one searched all England through there could have been found a more noble looking group than that at Ina's high table. It is well known that our king and queen were beyond all others for royalty of look and ways, and I will venture to say that neither of the ealdormen had their equals, save in Nunna, anywhere. But it is not my word only, for it was a common saying, that Owen seemed most royal next to the king himself. Grave he always was, but with a ready smile and pleasant, in the right place, and though he was now about five-and-forty he had changed little to my eyes from what he was twelve years ago, when he saved me from the wolves. He was one of those men who age but slowly.

One other on the high place I have not mentioned in this way. That was Elfrida, the Somerset ealdorman's daughter, of whom it was said that she was the fairest maiden in all Wessex. Certainly at this time I for one would have agreed in that saying. She was two years younger than I, if I dare say it, and it seemed to me that in the last three years she had suddenly grown from the child that I used to play with to a very stately lady, well fitted to take the place of her mother, who used to be kind to me when I first came here as the queen's somewhat mischievous page, and had but died a year or so ago. I think that this feast was the first Elfrida and her father had been present at since then, and at least, that was the reason I heard given for her presence on the high place.

Now I must say where my place was in the hall, for it may make more plain what happened hereafter. The young nobles of the court who had no relatives present sat at one of the cross tables at the king's right hand, and at the head of these tables was my seat by reason of my post as captain of the house-carles. So I sat with my back to the long chief table, with its occupants just behind me, and to my left was the open space in the centre of the hall, so that if I was needed, or had to go out for the change of guard or other house-carle business, all that I had to do, being at one end of the bench, was to get up and go my way without disturbing any one. At the same time I could see all the hall before me, and a half turn of the head would set my eyes on the king himself.

The door of the hall was closed when the king entered from his own chambers and took his place, so that the cold, and the draughts, which might eddy the smoke of fire and torches about the guests too much, was kept out. But it was closed against weather only, for any man might crave admittance to the king's ball at the great feast, whether as wayfarer or messenger or suppliant, so that he had good reason for asking hospitality. Several men had come in thus as the feast went on, but none heeded the little bustle their coming made, nor so much as turned to see where they were set at the lower tables, except myself and perhaps Owen. There was merriment enough in the hall, and room and plenty for all comers, even as Ina loved to have it.

Now there is no need to tell aught of that feast, until the meat was done and the tables were cleared for the most pleasant part of the evening, when the servants, whether men or women, sat down at their tables also, and the harp went round, with the cups, and men sang in turn or told tales, each as he was best able to amuse the rest. There was a little bustle while this clearance went on, and men changed their seats to be nearer friends and the like, for the careful state of the beginning of the feast was over in some degree; but at last all was ready, and the great door, which had been open for a few minutes as the servants took out into the courtyard the great cauldrons and spits, was closed, and then there fell a silence, for we waited for a custom of the king's.

Here at Ina's court we kept up the old custom of drinking the first cup with all solemnity, and making some vows thereover. This cup was, of course, to be drunk by the host, and after him by any whom he would name, or would take a vow on him. In the old heathen days this cup was called the "Bragi bowl," and the vows were made in the names of the Asir, and mostly ended in fighting before the year was over. We kept the old name yet, but now the vows were made in the name of all the Saints, and if Ina or any other made one it was sure to be of such sort that it would lead to some worthy deed before long, wrought in all Christian wise. Maybe the last of the old pattern of vow was made when Kentwine our king swore to clear the Welsh from the Parrett River to the sea, and did it.

So when the time came we sat waiting, each with his horn or cup before him, brimming with ale or cider or mead, as he chose, and men turned in their seats that they might see the pleasant little ceremony at the high place the better. As for me, I just turned in my bench end so that my feet were clear of the table, on which my arm and cup rested, and faced right down the hall, with, of course, no one at all between me and the steps of the high place. For now all had taken their seats except one cup bearer, who waited at the lowest step with the king's golden cup in one hand, and in the other a silver flagon of good Welsh wine to fill it withal. One would say that this was but a matter of chance, but as it happened presently it was well that I moved.

Now, in the hush was a little talk and laughter among those who were nearest the king, and then I saw the queen smile and speak to Elfrida, who blushed and looked well pleased, and then rose and came daintily round the end of the king's board. There a thane who sat at the table at the foot of the steps rose and handed her down them to where the servant waited. Ina had asked her to hand him the cup after the old fashion, she being the lady of the chief house in Glastonbury next his own. There she took the cup from the man's hand, and held it while he filled it heedfully. A little murmur that was all of praise went round the hall, and her colour rose again as she heard it, for it was not to be mistaken, and from the lower tables the voices were outspoken enough in all honesty.

Then she went up the steps holding the cup, and the king smiled on her as she came, and so she stood on the dais before the table and held out the wine, and begged the king to drink the "Bragi bowl" from her hands in her father's town.

The king bowed and smiled again, and rose up to take the cup from this fair bearer, and at that moment there was a sort of scuffle, unseemly enough, at the lower end of the hall near the door, and gruff voices seemed to be hushed as Ina glanced up with the cup yet untouched by his hand.

Then a man leapt from the hands of some who tried to hold him back, and he strode across the hall past the fire and to the very foot of the high place--as rough and unkempt a figure as ever begged for food at a king's table, unarmed, and a thrall to all seeming. And as he came he cried:

"Justice, Ina the king!--Justice!"

At that I and my men, who had sprung to our feet to hinder him, sat down again, for a suppliant none of us might hinder at any time. I did not remember seeing this man come in, but that was the business of the hall steward, unless there was trouble that needed the house-carles.

Ina frowned at this unmannerly coming at first, but his brow cleared as he heard the cry of the man. He signed to Elfrida to wait for a moment, and looked kindly at the thrall before him.

"Justice, Lord," the man said again.

"Justice you shall have, my poor churl," answered the king gently. "But this is not quite the time to go into the matter. Sit you down again, and presently you shall tell all to Owen the marshal, and thus it will come to me, and you shall see me again in the morning."

"Nay, but I will have justice here and now," the man said doggedly, and yet with some sort of appeal in his voice.

"Is it so pressing? Well, then, speak on. Maybe the vow that I shall make will be to see you righted."

And so the king sat down again, and the lady Elfrida waited, resting one hand on the table at the end of the dais farthest from me, and holding the golden cup yet in the other.

"What shall be done to the man who slays my brother?" the thrall cried.

And the king answered:

"If he has slain him by craft, he shall die; but if in fair fight and for what men deem reason, then he shall pay the full weregild that is due according to my dooms."

Then said the man, and his voice minded me of Owen's in some way:

"But and if he slew him openly in cold blood, for no wrong done to himself?"

"A strange doing," said the king--"but he should die therefor."

The king leant forward, with his elbow on the table to hear the better, and the man was close to the lowest step to be near him. It seemed that he was very wroth, for his right hand clutched the front of his rough jerkin fiercely, and his voice was harsh and shaking.

"It is your own word, Ina of Wessex, that the man who has slain my brother in this wise shall die. Lo, you! I am Morgan of Dyvnaint--and thus--"

There flashed from under the jerkin a long knife in the man's hand, and at the king he leapt up the low steps. But two of us had seen what was coming, and even as the brave maiden on his left dashed the full cup of wine in the man's face, blinding him, I was on him, so that the wine covered him and my tunic at once. I had him by the neck, and he gripped the table, and his knife flashed back at me wildly once, but I jerked him round and hurled him from the dais with a mighty crash, and so followed him and held him pinioned, while the cups and platters of the overturned table rolled and clattered round us.

Then rose uproar enough, and the hall was full of flashing swords. I mind that I heard the leathern peace thongs of one snap as the thane who tried to draw it tugged at the hilt, forgetting them. Soon I was in the midst of a half ring of men as I held the man close to the great fire on the hearth with his face downward and his right arm doubled under him. He never stirred, and I thought he waited for me to loose my hold on him.

Then came the steady voice of Ina:

"Let none go forth from the hall. To your seats, my friends, for there can be no more danger; and let the house-carles see to the man."

Two of my men took charge of my captive, even as he lay, and I stood up. Owen was close to me.

"The man is dead," he said in a strange voice.

"I doubt it," I answered, looking at him quickly, for the voice startled me. Then I saw that my foster father's face was white and drawn as with some trouble, and he was gazing in a still way at the man whom the warriors yet held on the floor.

"His foot has been in the fire since you hove him there, yet he has not stirred," he said.

Then I minded that I had indeed smelt the sharp smell of burning leather, and had not heeded it. So I told the two men to draw the thrall away and turn him over. As they did so we knew that he was indeed dead, for the long knife was deep in his side, driven home as he fell on it. And I saw that in the hilt of it was a wonderful purple jewel set in gold. It was not the weapon of a thrall.

That Ina saw also, and he came down from the high place, and stood and looked in the face of this one who would have slain him, fixedly for a minute.

Then he said, speaking to Owen in a low voice:

"Justice has been done, as it seems to me. Justice from a higher hand than mine, moreover."

Then he went back to his place, and standing there said in the dead hush that was on us all:

"It would seem that this man thought that he had somewhat against me, indeed, but I do not know him, or who his brother may have been. Nor have I slain any man save in open field of battle at any time, as all men know, save and except that I may be said to have done so by the arm of the law. Yet even so, our Wessex dooms are not such as take life but for the most plain cause, and that seldom as may be. Is there any one here who has knowledge of this man who calls himself Morgan of Dyvnaint? It seems to me that I have heard the name before."

Now Owen had gone back to his place, and while one or two thanes came forward and looked in the face of the man, whom they had not yet seen plainly, he spoke to the king, and Ina seemed to wonder at what he heard.

Then Herewald the ealdorman said:

"That is the name of one of the two Devon princes of the West Welsh, cousins of Gerent the king. We have trouble with their men, who raid our homesteads now and then."

At that a big man with a yellow moustache and long curling hair rose from among the franklins and said loudly, in a voice which was neither like that of a Briton nor a Saxon at all:

"Let me get a nearer look at him, and I will soon tell you if he is what he claimed to be."

And with no more ceremony he came to where I and the two house-carles yet stood, and looked and laughed a little to himself as he did so.

"He is Morgan the prince, right enough," he said. "And I can tell you all the trouble. Your sheriff hung his brother, Dewi, three months since for cattle lifting and herdsman slaying on this side Parrett River, somewhere by Puriton, where no Welshman should be. I helped hunt the knaves at the time. The sheriff took him for a common outlaw like his comrades, and it was in my mind that there would be trouble. So I told the sheriff, and he said that if the king himself got mixed up with outlaws and cattle thieves he must even take his chance with the rest. And thereon I said--"

"Thanks, friend," said Ina. "The rest shall be for tomorrow. Bide here tonight, that you may tell all at the morning."

The man made a courtly bow enough, and went back to his seat, and then Ina bade Owen see to his lodgment, and after that the thralls carried out the body. I went quietly and walked along the lower tables, bidding my men see if more Welshmen were present, but finding none, and then I found the hall steward wringing his hands, with an ashy face, at the far end of the hall.

"Master Oswald," he said, almost weeping, "how that man came in here I do not know. I saw him not until he rose up. None seem to have seen him enter, but men have so shifted their places that it seemed not strange to any near him that they had not seen him before."

"Had you seen him you could not have turned him away," I said. "He came as a suppliant, and the king's word is strict concerning such at these times. Good Saxon enough he spoke, too, in the way of many of our half Welsh border thralls. I do not think that you will be blamed. Most likely he slipped in as the tables were cleared just now. There was coming and going enough, and we have many strangers here.

"Who is the yellow-haired man?"

"A chapman from the town. Some shipmaster whom the ealdorman knows."

Now, after I was back in my place and the bustle was ended, there fell an uneasy silence, for men knew not if the feast was to go on. Many of the ladies had gone, with the queen, and Elfrida was there no longer. But Ina stood up with a fresh cup in his hand, and he smiled and said, while the eyes of all were on him:

"Friends, we have seen a strange thing, but you have also seen the deeds of a brave maiden and a ready warrior to whom I am beholden for my life, as is plain enough. Yet we will not let the wild ways of our western neighbours mar the keeping of our holy tide. Maybe there is more to be learnt of the matter, but if so that can rest. Think now only of these two brave ones, I pray you, for I have yet the Bragi bowl to drink, and it is not hard to say whom I should pledge therein."

Then he looked round for Elfrida, not having noticed that she had gone with the queen.

"Why," he said, "it was in my mind to pledge the lady first, but I fear she has been fain to leave us. So I do not think that I can do better than pledge both my helpers together, and then Oswald can answer for the lady and himself at once."

He rose and held the cup high, and I rose also, not quite sure if I were myself or some one else, with all the hall looking at me.

"Drinc hael to the lady Elfrida, bravest and fairest in all the land of Somerset!" he cried. "Drinc hael, Oswald the king's thane--thane by right of ready and brave service just rendered!"

Then he drank with his eyes on me, and there went up a sort of cheer at his words, for men love to see any service rewarded on the spot if it may be so. Now I was at a loss what to say, and the lady should have been here to bring the cup to me in all formality. Maybe I should have stood there silent and somewhat foolish, but that the ealdorman, her father, helped me out.

"Come and do homage for the new rank, lad," he said in a low voice.

He was at the lower table near me now, for the high table had been broken and the king stood alone on the dais.

So I went to the steps, and bent one knee at their top, and kissed the hand of the king, and then held out the hilt of my sword, that he might seem to take it and give it me again. But he bade me rise, and so he took off his own sword, which was a wondrous one, and the token of the submission of some chief on the Welsh border beyond Avon, and he girt it on me with his own hands.

"You nigh gave your life for me, my thane," he said. "That man's knife was perilously near you."

He touched my tunic with his hand, and I looked. Across it where my heart beat was a long slit that I had not found out yet, where the knife flew at me. That stroke must have been the man's bane, because to reach me thus he had thrown his arm across his chest, and so had fallen on his weapon.

Then I was going, I think, though indeed I hardly know what I did at that moment, but the king stayed me, laughing.

"Do not think that I am going to let you off the cup, though. Now you shall pledge me, and if you have any vow to make which is fitting for a thane, make it and let us all hear it. But you have also the lady to think of in your words."

Then there was a little rustle at the door which was on the high place, and the queen returned with some of her ladies, hearing that all was seemly again, and she stood smiling at these last words. But Elfrida was not with her, and I was glad, else I had been more mazed yet. So I plucked up heart and took the cup from the hand of the king, trying to collect my thoughts into some sort of fitting words.

"Drinc hael Cyning," I said, while my voice shook. "Here do I vow before all the Saints and before this company--that I will do my best to prove myself worthy of this honour that has been set on me!"

"Why, Oswald," said the queen, "that is no sort of vow such as you should make, for we know that already, and you have proved it now if never before. And you have forgotten Elfrida."

Now, I thought to myself that the last thing that I was ever likely to do was to forget that maiden, and with that a thought came into my head, and as the queen was smiling at me, and every one was waiting, I grew desperate, and must needs out with it.

"Now, I cannot do better than this," I said, finding my courage all of a sudden. "Here do I add to my vow that so long as my life shall last I will not again forget the Lady Elfrida. Nor will I be content until I am held worthy by her to--to guard her all the rest of my days."

With that I drained the cup, and while the thanes laughed and cheered all round me, and Ina smiled as if well pleased enough, the queen set her hand on my arm, smiling also, and said:

"That was well said, my thane, but for one turn of the words. Why did you not tell us plainly that you mean to win her? We all know what you mean."

Then I went to my place, and I glanced at Herewald, to see how he would take all this. Somewhat seemed to have amused him mightily, and his eyes brimmed with a jest as he looked at me. Presently, when men forgot me in listening to the vow Ina made, that he would add somewhat to the new Church in thankfulness for this escape, the ealdorman came near me and whispered:

"You are a cautious youth, Oswald, for I never heard a man turn a hint from a lady better in my life. Nevertheless, if you are not careful, Ethelburga will wed you to Elfrida for all your craft."

He laughed again, and said no more. But I was looking at Owen, who seemed to have some thoughts of his own that were troubling him sorely. He smiled and nodded, indeed, when he caught my eye, but then he grew grave again directly, and afterwards his horn stood before him on the table untasted, and his look seemed far away, though round him men sang and all was merry.

However, as one may suppose, the merriment was not what it should have been, and none wondered much when Ina rose and left the table with a few pleasant parting words. He was never one to bide long at a feast, and he knew, maybe, that the house-carles and younger men would be more at ease when his presence was no longer felt by them. With him went Owen and the ealdorman, and Nunna, at some sign of his, and after they went I had to stand no little banter concerning my vow, as may be supposed.

I was not sorry when a page came and bade me join the king in his own chamber, though it was all good-natured and in no sort of unkindness. I will not say that I did not enjoy it either. So I went as I was bidden, and found that some sort of council was being held, and that those four were looking grave over it. I supposed they had some errand for me at first, but in no long time I knew that what was on hand was nought more or less than the beginning of parting between Owen and me.

I will make little of all that was said, though it was a long matter, and heavy in the telling, and maybe tangled here and there to me as I listened. I think that Ina understood that trouble fell on me as I heard all, for he looked kindly on me from his great chair, while Nunna sat on the table and was silent, stroking his beard, as if thinking. But Owen drew me to the settle by him, and bade me hearken while the king told me the tale I had to learn.

Then I heard how Owen, my foster father, was indeed a prince of the old Cornish line that came from Arthur, and how his cousins, Morgan and Dewi, had plotted to oust him from his place at the right hand of Gerent the king, and had succeeded only too well, so that he had had to fly. It matters not what their lies concerning him had been, nor do I think that Owen knew all that had been said against him, but Gerent had banished him, and so he had wandered to Mercia, and thence after a year or two to Sussex, having heard of the Irish monks of the old Western Church at Bosham. So he had met with me, and thus he and I had come to Ina's court together.

And as I heard all, I knew that it had been for my sake that he was content to serve as a simple forester at Eastdean, for Ina told me that across the Severn among the other princes of the old Welsh lands he would have been more than welcome. I could say nothing, but I set my hand on his and left it there, and he smiled at me, and grasped it.

"And now," said Ina, "your hand has in some sort avenged the old wrong, for you have brought about the end of Morgan, who was Owen's foe. But this is a matter we need to hear more concerning. Do you bring us that stranger that he may tell us what he knows."

I went to the hall again, and found him easily enough, for all men were looking at him. He was in the midst of the hall, juggling in marvellous wise with a heavy woodman's axe, which he played with as if it were a straw for lightness. Even as I entered from the door on the high place he was whirling it for a mighty stroke which seemed meant to cleave a horn cup which he had set on a stool before him, and I wondered. But he stayed the stroke as suddenly as if his great arms had been turned to steel, so that the axe edge rested on the rim of the vessel without so much as notching it, and at that all the onlookers cheered him.

"Now it may be known," said he, smiling broadly, "why men call me Thorgils the axeman."

Then he threw the unhandy weapon into the air whirling, and caught it as it came to hand again, so that it balanced on his palm, and so he held it as I went to him, and told him the king would speak with him.

Whereon he threw the axe at the doorpost, so that it stuck there, and laughed at the new shout of applause, and so turned down his sleeves and bade me lead him where I would.

He made a stiff, outlandish salute as he stood before Ina, and the king returned it.

"I have sent for you now, friend, rather than wait for morning," he said, "for it seems to me that we have business that must be seen to with the first light. Will you tell us what you know of this man who has been slain? I think you are no Welshman of Cornwall."

"I am Thorgils the Norseman of Watchet, king," he answered. "Thorgils the axeman, men call me, by reason, of some skill with that weapon which your folk seem to hold in no repute, which is a pity. Shipmaster am I by trade, and I am here to seek for cargo, that I may make one more voyage this winter with the more profit, having to cross to Dyfed, beyond the narrow sea, though it is late in the year."

"I thought you might be a Dane from Tenby."

"The Welsh folk know the difference between us by this time," Thorgils said, with a little laugh. "They call them 'black heathen' and us 'white heathen,' though I don't know that they love us better than they do them. By grace of Gerent the king, to be politic, or by grace of axe play, to speak the truth, we have a little port of our own here on this side the water, at the end of the Quantocks, where we seek to bide peaceably with all men as traders."

"Ay! I have heard of your town," said Ina. "Now, can tell us how Morgan and his brother came to be in company with outlaws?"

"He fell out with Gerent over us, to begin with. I went with our chiefs to Exeter when we first came seeking a home, to promise tribute if we were left in peace in the place we had chosen. Gerent was willing enough, but Morgan, who claims some sort of right over the Devon end of the kingdom, was against our biding at all, and there were words. However, Gerent and we had our way, and so we thought to hear no more of the matter. But the next thing was that Morgan gathered a force and tried to turn us out on his own account, and had the worst of the affair. That angered Gerent, for he lost some good men outside our stockades. And then other things cropped up between them. I have heard that the old king found out old lies told by Morgan concerning Owen the prince, whom men hope to see again, but I know little of that. Anyway, Morgan and his brother fled, and this is the end thereof. We heard too that he plotted to take the throne, and it is likely."

"Thanks, friend," Ina said. "That is a plain tale, and all we need to know. But what say men of Owen, whom you spoke of? Is it known that he lives?"

"Oh ay. They say that you know more of him than any one. Men have seen him here at Glastonbury. Moreover, Gerent came to Norton, just across the Quantocks, yesterday, and it is thought that he wants to send a message to you asking after him. There will be joy in West Wales if he goes back to the right hand of the king, for one would think that he was a fairy prince by the way he is spoken of."

Thereat Ina smiled at Owen, and Thorgils saw it, and knew what was meant in a moment. He turned to Owen with a quick look, and said frankly:

"True enough, Prince, but I did not know that I spoke of a listener. On my word, if you do go back, you will have hard work to live up to what is expected of you. Maybe what is more to the point is this, that Morgan has more friends than enough, and it is likely that they will stick at little to avenge him.

"Howbeit," he added with a quaint smile, "it shall not be said that Thorgils missed a chance. Prince, if you do go back to Gerent you will be his right hand, as they say. Therefore I will ask you at once to have us Norsemen in favour, so far as we need any. Somewhat is due to the bearer of tidings, by all custom."

Ina laughed, and even Owen smiled at the ready Norseman, but Herewald the ealdorman and I wondered at him, for he spoke as to equals, with no sort of fear of the king on him, which was not altogether the way of men who stood before Ina.

Then said Owen quietly:

"Friend, I think there is a favour I may ask you, rather. I have bided away from my uncle, King Gerent, because I would not return to him unasked, being somewhat proud, maybe. But now it seems to King Ina and myself that needs must I go to him to take the news of this death of Morgan myself. It is a matter that might easily turn to a cause of war between Wessex and West Wales, for if the man tried to slay our king in his own court, it may also be told that here was slain a prince of Dyvnaint. There is full need that the truth should reach the king before rumour makes the matter over great. You have seen all, and are known to the Welsh court as a friend. Come with me, therefore, tomorrow and tell the tale."

"That I will, Prince," Thorgils said. "You will be welcome; but as I warn you, there will be need for care."

"You know somewhat of the ways of the Welsh court," said Ina.

"Needs must, Lord King. I am a shipmaster, and every trader I carry across the sea, sometimes to South Wales, and sometimes to Bristol, and betimes so far as to Ireland, tells me all he has learned. It were churlish not to listen, and then we need warning against such attacks as that of Morgan. Moreover, one likes somewhat to talk of."

"That is plain enough," said Nunna, laughing.

"Maybe I do talk too much," answered the Norseman. "It is a failing in my family. But my sister is worse than I."

Then the king laughed again, and so dismissed the shipman, and presently Owen bade me make all preparation for riding to Norton on the morrow early. Ina would have us take a strong guard, and I should bring them back, either with or without Owen, as things went.

But little sleep had I that night, for I knew too well that from henceforth my life and that of my foster father must lie apart, and how far sundered we might be I could not tell. There was no love of the Saxon in West Wales, nor of the Welshman in Wessex.