It was not long before Eanulf made up his mind to action, and he was closeted with the bishop all that morning. Then, after the midday meal, he called a council of all who were there, and we sat in the great hall to hear his plans.

Ealhstan came with him, and these two sat at the upper end of the hall, and we on the benches round the walls, for the long tables had been cleared.

When all was ready, Eanulf stood up and told the thanes, for some were men who had had no part in Osric’s levy, all about the fighting, and how it had ended. And having done that, he asked for the advice of such as would have aught to say.

Very soon an old thane rose up and said that he thought all would be well if forces were so posted as to prevent the Danes coming beyond the land they then held.

And several growled assent to that; and one said that Danes bided in one place no long time, but would take ship again and go elsewhere.

That, too, seemed to please most, and I saw Eanulf bite his lip, for he was a man who loved action. And Wulfhere, too, shifted in his seat, as if impatient.

Then they went back to the first proposal, and began to name places where men might be posted to keep the Danes in Parret valley at least, till they went away.

Then at last Wulfhere grew angry, and rose up, looking very red.

“And what think you will Parret valley be like when they have done their will therein? Does no man remember the going back to his place when these strangers had bided in it for a while, after they beat us in Dorset?”

There were two thanes who had lands in that part, and they flushed, so that one might easily know they remembered; but they said naught.

Then Eanulf spake, very plainly:

“I am for raising the levy of Somerset again, and stronger, and driving them out; but I cannot do it without your help.”

Then there was silence, and the thanes looked at one another for so long that I waxed impatient, and being headstrong, maybe, got up and spoke:

“Landless I am, and maybe not to be hearkened to, but nevertheless I will say what it seems to me that a man should say. Into this land of peace these men from over seas have come wantonly, slaying our friends, burning our houses, driving our cattle, making such as escape them take to the woods like hunted wild beasts. Where is Edred the Thane? Where is Matelgar? Where twenty others you called friends? Dead by Combwich, and none to bury them. The Danes have their arms, the wolves their bodies. Is no vengeance to be taken for this? Or shall the Danes sail away laughing, saying that the hearts of the Saxons are as water?”

Then there rose an angry growl at that, and I was glad to hear it. So was Eanulf, as it seemed. And Wulfhere got up and stood beside me and spoke.

“This is good talk, and now I will add a word. Why came back the Danes here? Because after we were beaten before, we let them do their worst, and hindered them not; therefore come they back even now aye, and if we drive them not from us, hither will they come yet again, till we may not call the land our own from year to year. I say with the ealdorman, let us up and drive them out, showing them what Saxons are made of. What? Are we done fighting after they have scattered one hastily gathered levy? Shame there is none to us in being so beaten once, but I hold it shame to let them so easily have the mastery.”

Then there was a murmur, but not all of assent; though I could see that many would side with us. Whereon Wislac rose up slowly, and looking round, said:

“I am a stranger, but having been present at the beating the other day, yonder, am minded to see if I may yet go home on the winning side. And it would be shame, even as these two thanes have said, not to give a guest a chance to have his pleasure. I pray you, thanes, pluck up spirit, and follow the ealdorman.”

Now, though Wislac’s words seemed idle at the beginning, there was that in his last words which brought several of the younger thanes to their feet, looking angrily at him, and one asked if he meant to call that assembly “nidring”.

“Not I,” said Wislac, smiling peacefully, “seeing that you have done naught to deserve that foul name; but being a beaten man, as I said, I need a chance to prove that I am not ‘nidring’ myself, so please you.”

And they could not take offence at his tone, yet they saw well what he meant; and this in the end touched them very closely, for they were in the same case as he, but with more right, being of Somerset, to wipe out their defeat. But maybe there would have been a quarrel if Eanulf had not spoken.

“Peace, thanes,” he said. “Heregar is right, and we must avenge our dead. Wulfhere is right, and for the land’s sake we must give these Danes a lesson to bide at home. Wislac is right, and this defeat must be wiped out. Now say if you will help me to raise the levy afresh?”

“Aye, we will,” said the thanes, but there was not that heartiness in their tones that one might have looked for.

In truth, though, it was no want of courage, but the thought of the easier plan of waiting, that held them back.

Then Ealhstan the Bishop rose up and faced us all, with his eyes shining, and his right hand gripping his crosier so tightly that his knuckles shone white.

“What, my sons, shall it be said of you, as it is said of us Dorset folk, that you let the Danes bide in your land and work their worst on you and yours? I tell you that since we went back and saw, as we still see, their track over our homes, our folk burn to take revenge on them; and I, being what I am, think no wrong of counselling revenge on heathen folk. Listen, for ye are men.”

And then he told us in burning words such a tale of what must be were these heathen to have their way, such things that he himself had seen and known after Charnmouth fight, that we would fain at last be up and drive them away without waiting for the levy.

And at last he said:

“Eanulf, this will I do. I will gather the Dorset levy and lead them to your help, and so will we make short work of these heathen.”

Then all the thanes shouted that they would not be behind in the matter; and so their cool Saxon blood was fired to that white rage which is quenched but in victory or death.

Now after that there was talk of nothing but of making the levy as soon as might be, and Eanulf, thanking everyone, and most of all the bishop, straightway gave his orders; and before that night the war arrow was speeding through all Somerset and Dorset likewise, and word was sent to Osric and the other sheriffs that the gathering place named was at the hill of Brent.

Now of those days that followed there is little to say. The other thanes left, each to gather his own men, vowing vengeance on the Danes; but before they went there was hardly one who did not seek out Wulfhere, Wislac, and myself, and in some way or another tell us that we had spoken right. One fiery young thane, indeed, was minded to fight Wislac, but the Mercian turned the quarrel very skilfully, and in the end agreed with the thane that the matter should be settled by the number of Danes each should slay, “which,” said Wislac, “will be as good sport and more profitable than pounding one another, and quite as good proof that neither of us may be held nidring.”

So that ended very well.

But every day came in reports, brought by fugitives, of the Danes and their doings, which made our blood boil. At last came one who brought a message for myself, could I be found. It was from the aunt of Alswythe, the Prioress of Bridgwater, telling of her safety and that of her nuns, at Taunton. And I begged the bishop to let me tell this good news to Alswythe, and so gained speech with her once more. Yet would the abbess be present, reading the while; but I might tell my love all that had befallen me, and she rejoiced, bidding me go fight and win myself renown in the good cause of my own country.

And when I left her I felt that I must indeed be strong for the sake of her, and by reason of her words, which would be in my mind ever.

Now one day when I went to see the horses and ride out with Wulfhere and Wislac, the collier came and hung about, seeming to wish to ask somewhat. And when I noticed this and bade him speak, he prayed me that I would give him arms, and let him follow me to the coming fighting. Arms, save those I wore, I had none, but I promised him such as I could buy him with what remained of the money I had found, which might be enough, seeing that we lived at free quarters with the bishop, and had little expense. As for the other money, I left that with the abbess after I had seen Alswythe, for it was less mine than hers.

But I asked Dudda if he were able to use a sword. Whereupon he grinned, and said that Brother Guthlac tended the abbot’s mule, and had taught him much when he came to the stables daily. He also showed me a bruised arm and broken head in token of hard play with the ash plant between them.

“Here is the said Guthlac,” said Wulfhere; and there was the reader of Beowulf coming, with frock and sleeves tucked up, from out the stables. So I called him, and asked him to try a bout with the collier, telling him why.

At first he denied all knowledge of carnal warfare, but I reminded him of his reading of Beowulf, saying that, if he knew naught of fighting, the verses would have had none of that fire in them. So, in the end, they went to it, and I saw that Guthlac was well used to sword play, and was satisfied also with his pupil.

Then I asked Guthlac whence he got his skill in arms, and why he was shut up thus inside four walls.

“Laziness, Thane,” he answered, telling me nothing of the first matter at all. Nor would he. But I found afterwards that he had been lamed once, and tended by the monks, and so had bided in the abbey, liking the life, though he had been a stout housecarle to some thane or other.

Then Wislac must ask him if there were any more of his sort in the abbey, and seeing that we meant no harm, and looking on me as an ally in that matter of the reading, he said there were five more, “whom Heregar the Thane knew, if he would remember, reading certain Scriptures at supper time.”

And I found that these six kindred spirits had managed to get themselves told off to amuse me while I waited that day, so that they might hear of the fighting.

So we laughed and rode out, and I thought no more of Guthlac and his brethren till the time came when I remembered them gladly.

All day long during that week came pouring in the Dorset levies in answer to the bishop’s summons. Hard and wiry men they were, and as I could well see, a very much harder set than Osric’s first levy, for these were veterans. Ealhstan’s word had gone out that all men who would wipe out the defeat of Charnmouth should gather to him, and these were the men who had fought there, and only longed to try their strength again against their conquerors of that disastrous day.

Day by day, also, would Ealhstan go out into the marketplace, and there speak burning words to them, bidding them remember the days gone by, and the valour of their fathers who won the land for them, and to have ever in mind that this war was not of Christian against Christian, but against heathen men who were profaning the houses of God wherever they came.

Many more things did he say, ever finding something fresh wherewith to stir their courage, but ever, also, did he bid them remember how the Danes had won by discipline more than courage, and to pay heed to that as their leaders bade them.

Also, day by day, he bade the thanes who had seen fighting, train their men as well as they might, and they worked well at that. Moreover, he could teach them much, reading to us at times from a great Latin book of the wars of Caesar such things as seemed like to be useful, putting it into good Saxon as he went on.

Then, as the week drew to an end, there began to be questions as to who should be leader of the Dorset men. And many said that Osric should be the man, for he was an Ealdorman of Dorset. But when the bishop sent to Brent for him, and asked him to lead his men, Osric doubted; and what he said to the other thanes, and to us three, made them send us to the bishop with somewhat to ask.

So we, finding him ever ready to hear what was wanted, put the question to him plainly as they had bidden us. And that was, that he himself should lead the levy of Dorset.

Now Tatwine, the old abbot, sat with him and heard this, and straightway he began to tremble, and cry out that such work was unfit for a bishop.

So the bishop said to me, very quietly, but with a look in his eyes which seemed to show that this was what he longed for:

“Heregar, my son, go and tell the thanes what the abbot says, and ask if they will go without me.”

All the thanes were waiting to hear the bishop’s answer to our request, and I told them this, and they knew at once what answer to give, for they said, or Osric said for them, while all applauded:

“We will not go against these heathens unless the bishop leads us. Else must Somerset fight her own battles.”

So with that word I went back to the bishop, and told him.

“So, Tatwine, my brother, you see how it is. Needs must that I go, else were it shame to us that heathen men should have freedom in a Christian land.”

But Tatwine groaned, and, maybe knowing the bishop well, said no more.

Then Ealhstan bade him remember all the saints who had warred against the heathen, and were held blameless nay, rather, the holier.

“Therefore,” said he, “I am in good company, and will surely go.”

Whereupon Tatwine rose up and went out, saying that he should go to the abbey and seek protection for the bishop, and men say he bided there almost night and day, praying until all was past. Certainly I saw him no more in his accustomed places, save at mass.

When he had gone the bishop smiled a little, looking after him, and then spoke to us.

“I may tell my council that this is what I should love. Nevertheless, it will not be I who lead, but you three. For the counsel must be Wulfhere’s, and the coolness Wislac’s, and the rest Heregar’s, who will by no means bide that we run away. Now, I think that you three will make a good leader of me.”

On that we thanked him for his words, and we followed him out to the hall. And there the thanes shouted and cheered as he came, and still more when he prayed them to follow him to victory or a warrior’s death. And that they swore to do, not loudly, but in such sort that none could mistake that they would surely do so.

Then he bade them muster their men by the first light in the morning, and so he would lead them first of all to Brent, to join the ealdorman. And Osric should be his second in command.

That pleased all, and soon we were left alone with him again, but we could hear outside the cheering of men now and then, as some thane gathered his following and told them the name of their leader.

So we three went out presently and saw to our horses, and then I was wondering about arms for Dudda, for I had left the matter too long, and it seemed there were few weapons remaining for sale in the town by reason of men of the levy buying or borrowing what they lacked in equipment. And the poor fellow hung about sadly, thinking he should find none in the end, and swearing he would follow me even had he naught but a quarterstaff in his hand.

But when we went back to the abbey, the bishop sent for us, and we were taken into a room we had not seen before, and there on the table were laid out three suits of mail, helmets, and arms.

“Now,” said Ealhstan, as he saw our eyes go, as a man’s eyes will, straight to these things, “if you thanes are not too proud to accept such as I can give, let me arm you, and tell you where you shall bear these arms.”

And that was what we longed for, for as yet we had no post in the levy, and we told him as much.

“That is well,” he answered. “See, Wislac, here is bright steel armour and helm and shield for you. Sword also, if you need it, for maybe you will scarce part from your own tried weapon?”

But Wislac smiled at that, and took hold of his sword hilt, loosening the strings which bound it to the sheath. There were but eight inches of blade left, and these were sorely notched.

“Aha!” quoth the bishop, “now know I why Wislac thought well to stop fighting the other day,” which pleased the Mercian well enough.

“Then, Wulfhere,” went on Ealhstan, “here is this black armour and helm and shield for you, and sword or axe as you will.”

And Wulfhere thanked him, taking the axe, as his own sword was good.

“Now, Heregar, my son, this is yours,” said the bishop, looking kindly at me.

And as I looked I thought I had never seen more beautiful arms. No better were they than the other two suits, for all three were of good Sussex ring mail as to the byrnies, while the boar-crested helms were of hammered steel.

But mine was silver white, with gold collar and gold circles round the arms. Gold, too, was the boar-crest of the helm, and gold the circle round the head, and to me it seemed as I looked that this was too good. And Ealhstan knew my thoughts and answered them.

“Black for the man of dark counsel, bright steel for the warrior, and silver-bright armour for the man who brings back hope when all seems lost.”

“That is good,” said Wislac. “Now read us the meaning of the gold thereon also,” for he seemed to see that the bishop had some meaning in that, whereat the bishop smiled.

“Gold for trust,” he said, “and for the man who shall be honoured.”

“That is well also,” said Wulfhere, and Wislac nodded gravely.

“Now,” said the bishop, “I will put Heregar out of my council for a minute, so that he may not speak nor hear. Tell me, Thanes both, if it will be well to give Heregar the place whereto men shall rally in need?”

“Aye, surely,” they said. “We know he can fill that place.”

“Then shall he bear my standard,” said the bishop, “and none will gainsay it,” and so he turned to me.

“Now, Heregar, may you hear this decision. Standard bearer to me shall you be, and I know you will bear it well and bravely. And these two, your friends and mine, shall stand to right and left of you, and six stout carles may you choose from the levy to stand before and behind you. And whom you choose I will arm alike, that all may know them.”

Now knew I not what to say or do, but I knelt before the bishop and kissed his hand, and so he laid it on my head and blessed me, bidding me speak no words of thanks, but only deserve them from him.

Now there was a little silence after this, and Wislac, being ever ready, broke it for us,

“Much do I marvel,” he said, “that these suits of armour should be so exactly fitting to each of us. Surely there is some magic in it.”

“Only the magic of a wearied man’s sleep, and of a good weapon smith,” said the bishop, laughing. “One measured your mail, byrnie and helm both, as you slept. We have lay brethren apt for every craft.”

And that reminded me of Brother Guthlac, and a thought came to me.

“Father,” I said, “six men have you bidden me choose, and I know none of the Dorset men. Yet there are six lay brethren here who have been warriors, of whom brother Guthlac is one, and if they may march against heathen men, I pray you let me have them.”

Now that the Bishop seemed to find pleasant, as though he knew something of those lovers of war songs, and answered that he wot not if Tatwine would let them go. But, in any case, he would choose men for me of the best, and that we all thought well, knowing in what spirit he would put those men whom he should choose.

So he bade us go, taking our arms with us, and we, thanking him, went out. But I found my collier, and showed him the arms I had been wearing, saying they should be his, and then took him, rejoicing, into the town. There I bought him, after some search, a plain, good sword and target, which he bore to his lodgings to scour and gaze at for the rest of the day.