The Dragon and The Raven: Or The Days of King Alfred
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G. A. Henty >> The Dragon and The Raven: Or The Days of King Alfred
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Several ships were captured as they sailed out from the
river. After the spoil on board was taken out, these, instead
of being burnt, as had always been the case before, were
allowed to proceed on their way, since had they been destroyed
the crews must either have been slain or landed. The first
course was repugnant to Edmund, the second could not be
adopted, because they would have carried the news to the
Danes, that the Dragon was off the river and no more ships
would have put to sea; and indeed, so large was the number
of Danish vessels always up the Humber that a fleet could
easily have been equipped and sent out, before which the
Dragon must have taken flight.
One day a large sailing ship was seen coming out. The
Dragon remained with lowered sail until she had passed; then
started in pursuit, and speedily came up with the Danish
vessel. Edmund summoned her to surrender, and was answered
by a Norseman of great stature and noble appearance, who
from the poop hurled a javelin, which would have pierced
Edmund had he not leapt quickly aside. A few other darts
were thrown and then the Dragon ran alongside the enemy
and boarded her.
The opposition of the Northmen was speedily beaten
down, but their leader desperately defended the ladder leading
to the poop. He was struck by two arrows, and fell on
one knee, and Edmund was about to climb the ladder when
the door of the cabin in the poop opened, and a Norse maiden
some sixteen years old sprang out. Seeing her father wounded
at the top of the ladder and the Saxons preparing to ascend
it, while others turned their bows against the wounded
Northman, she sprang forward and throwing herself upon
her knees before Edmund besought him to spare her father's
life. Edmund raised his hand and the bows were lowered.
"I have no wish to slay your father, maiden," he said gently;
"we slay only those who resist, and resistance on the part
of a single man, and he wounded, against a whole ship's crew
is madness. We are no sea-wolves who slay for the pleasure
of slaying, but are Saxons, who fight for our country against
the oppressions and rapine of your people. Little right have
they to mercy seeing they show none; but our religion enjoins
us to have pity even upon our enemies. You had best
ascend to your father and see to his wounds, none will harm
you or him."
The girl with an exclamation of thanks sprang up the
ladder. Edmund superintended the searching of the ship.
She contained a great store of valuables, which were speedily
transferred to the Dragon. When this had been done Edmund
ascended to the poop. The jarl was sitting in a great chair
placed there. Edmund had already learnt from the crew that
he was Jarl Siegbert, a noted leader of the Northmen. His
daughter had drawn out the arrows and bandaged the
wounds.
"Jarl Siegbert," Edmund said as he approached him, "you
have been a bitter enemy of the Saxons, and small mercy
have you shown to those who have fallen into your hands,
but learn now that we Christian Saxons take no vengeance
on a defenceless foe. You are free to pursue your voyage with
your daughter and your ship to Norway. Your stores we have
made free with, seeing that they are all plunder taken from
the Saxons, and we do but reclaim our own."
"And who are you, young sir?" the jarl asked.
"I am one of King Alfred's ealdormen of Wessex,
Edmund by name."
"I have heard of you," the Dane said, "as one who has
taught the Saxons new tactics, fighting in a close body which
has more than once pierced our lines and caused our overthrow;
but you are a mere lad."
"I am young," Edmund replied, "and had it not been for
the invasions and oppressions of your countrymen, might
have still accounted myself as scarce a man; but you have
made warriors of every West Saxon capable of bearing a
sword. Remember, jarl, that your life has been in Saxon hands,
and that they have spared it, so come not hither to our shores
again."
"I purpose not doing so," the Northman replied. "I have
seen enough of stricken fields, and was returning to my own
country to hang up my sword, content with the fame I have
gained, until Woden called me to join his warriors and feast
in his halls. Since we may not meet there, young Saxon--for
they say that you Christians look to a place where arms will
be laid aside and the sound of feasting be unheard--I will
say farewell. For myself, I thank you not for my life, for I
would rather have died as I have lived with my sword in my
hand; but for my daughter's sake I thank you, for she is but
young to be left unprotected in the world."
A few minutes later, the Danish vessel continued on her
way, and the Dragon again took her station on the look-out.
She was now deep in the water, and after picking up one or
two more small prizes, Edmund and Egbert determined to
return home.
It was probable that the Danes would soon take the alarm
and despatch a fleet to attack them. Laden down as the
Dragon was, her speed under oars was materially affected,
and it was advisable to stow away their booty before proceeding
with further adventures. Her head was turned south,
and she coasted down the eastern shores of England without
adventure. Several Danish vessels were seen arriving at or
quitting the coast, but the Dragon continued her course without
heeding them, and rounding the Forelands, sailed along
the south coast and made her way up the Parrot.
Upon inquiry they learnt that no event of any importance
had taken place during their absence. The Danes were
complete masters of the country. King Alfred was in hiding,
none knew where. The greater portion of the Danes were at
their camp at Chippenham, but parties roamed here and there
through the land.
Dressed as countrymen, Edmund and Egbert made their
way to Exeter, and there arranged with some traders for the
purchase of the less valuable portion of the Dragons cargo.
This consisted of rich clothing, silks and other stuffs, wine,
vestments, and altar hangings from churches, arms and
armour, hides and skins. The prices obtained were far below
the real value of the articles, for money was scarce, and none
could say when the Danes might again swoop down and clear
out the contents of the warehouses. Nevertheless the sum
obtained was a large one for those days, and this did not
include the value of the gold and silver goblets, salvers, vases,
and utensils used in the celebration of religious services.
Of these, spoiled from the houses of the wealthy, and
the churches and monasteries, they had obtained a considerable
number. These were buried in the wood near the lonely
spot at which the Dragon was moored, the rest of the cargo
was sent in wagons--the more valuable portions hidden under
the hides and skins--to Exeter. The amount which had been
obtained from the cargo was divided as agreed before starting:
twenty-five shares were set apart for the king, twenty-five
shares were divided between the two leaders, and each
soldier and sailor had one share. All were well satisfied with
the success of the adventure, and with the damage which
they had inflicted upon the Danes.
A fortnight's leave was given, for the men to visit their
homes, and the money which they had gained in their trip
was of great use to their friends in enabling them to repair
the damages effected by the Danes. Not a man was absent at
the appointed time, and the Dragon again made her way down
to the sea.
It was midwinter now, and they cruised along the southern
coast of England without perceiving a single hostile sail.
They lay for a week off the mouth of the Thames, and then
saw four large Danish vessels making their way down the river.
They were all vessels of the largest size, strongly built, and
full of men, and the Saxons judged them to be too strong to
be attacked in company. The Northmen, on seeing the golden
dragon flying at the mast-head of the Saxon ship, at once
made towards her, keeping in a close body; but the Dragon
with sails and oars easily left them behind, and the Danes
giving up the pursuit continued on their way.
The Dragon fell into their wake and followed at a distance,
hoping that one might prove slower than the others,
or that they might in the night get separated. At nightfall,
however, the Danes lit cressets of tar and hemp, which enabled
them not only to keep close together, but sent out a
wide circle of light, so that they could perceive the Dragon
should she venture to approach.
For two days and nights the Dragon followed patiently.
"The weather is about to change," Egbert said on the
third morning. "Methinks that there is a storm brewing, and
if this be so the Northmen may well get separated, and we
may pick up one away from her fellows."
Darker and darker grew the sky, and the wind soon blew
in furious gusts, raising a sea so heavy that the Saxons were
obliged to lay in their oars. By nightfall it was blowing a
furious gale. In the gathering darkness and the flying scud
the ships of the Danes were lost sight of; but this was of little
consequence now, for the attention of the Saxons was directed
to their own safety.
For the next three days their position was one of the
greatest danger. With only a rag of sail set they ran before
the gale from the south-west. Every wave as it overtook them
threatened the destruction of the ship; but the Dragon, light
and buoyant, and ably handled, rode safely over the waves.
On the fourth morning the wind was still blowing fiercely,
although its force had in some degree moderated. As the
daylight dawned Edmund and Egbert, who had hardly left
the poop since the storm began, looked anxiously ahead.
"Surely, Edmund, I see a dark mass ahead?" Egbert exclaimed.
For a minute or two Edmund gazed silently ahead.
"It is so, Egbert," he said; "it is a rocky coast. Do you not
see a white fringe below where the waves strike against it?"
As the light became clearer the imminence of their peril
grew more distinct. A lofty iron-bound coast rose in front of
them, and extended as far as the eye could reach on either
hand. The seas broke with terrible force against its base,
sending its spray far up on the cliffs.
"Could we bring her about?" Edmund asked the chief of
the sailors.
"It would be useless," the man said. "She could not make
her way in the teeth of this gale."
"That I see," Edmund said; "but at present we are rushing
on to destruction. If we bring her to the wind we may
run some distance along the coast before we are driven ashore,
and may perceive some spot towards which we may direct
her with a chance of making land ere she goes to pieces."
The sail was still further lessened and the ship's head
brought round parallel with the coast.
The Dragon laboured tremendously as the sea struck her
full on the beam, and every wave flooded her low waist. Each
sea which struck her lifted her bodily to leeward, and for
every foot she sailed forward she was driven one towards the
coast. This was now but three miles distant, and another
hour would ensure her destruction; for none there hoped
that the anchors, even should they find bottom, could hold
her for an instant in the teeth of the gale. Every eye was
directed towards the shore, but no break could be seen in the
wall of rock which rose almost perpendicularly from the water.
"I fear it is hopeless," Edmund said to Egbert; "the strongest
swimmer would be dashed to pieces in an instant against
those rocks."
"He would indeed," Egbert replied. "I wish now that we
had boldly engaged the four Danish ships. Far better would
it have been for us to have died fighting for England on her
decks than to have perished here."
The time passed slowly. Every minute the Dragon was
swept nearer and nearer towards the rocks.
"She will just make that headland," the master sailor said,
"and that is all. Once round it we had best turn her head to
the rocks. If the cliffs rise as here sheer from the water, the
moment she strikes will be the last for all of us; but if the
rocks are, as in some places, piled high at the foot of the
cliffs, a few may possibly manage to leap from her forecastle
as she strikes and to clamber up."
Scarce a word was spoken on board the Dragon as she
came abreast of the headland. It was but a few hundred yards
away. The roar of the seas as they struck its base sounded
high above the din of the storm. Great sheets of foam were
thrown up to a vast height, and the turmoil of the water from
the reflux of the waves was so great that the Dragon was tossed
upon it like a cock-boat, and each man had to grasp at shroud
or bulwark to retain his footing.
Suddenly a cheer burst from end to end of the ship.
Beyond the headland a great gap was visible a quarter of a
mile wide, as if the cliffs had been rent in sunder by some
tremendous convulsion, and a fiord was seen stretching away
in the bosom of the hills as far as the eye could reach. The
Dragon's head was turned, and soon she was flying before the
wind up the inlet. A mile farther and the fiord widened to a
lake some two miles across between steep hills clothed from
foot to summit with trees.
Its course was winding and they were soon sheltered
from the gale and were gliding quietly over comparatively
tranquil water. Ten miles up the anchor was let go in a
sheltered inlet, and Edmund summoned the whole crew to
return thanks to God for their marvellous escape.
The Dragon had suffered severely in her conflict with
the elements, her large sails had been split or blown away,
the bulwarks at her waist had been shattered, and considerable
damage done to her gear and fittings. Four-and-twenty
hours were allowed to the men for rest after their labours,
and then all hands were set to work to refit.
The next morning Edmund said to his kinsman:
"I will take two of the men and go ashore to hunt; there
should be wild boar and deer in these forests, and all would
be glad of some fresh meat."
"Be careful, Edmund; remember you are in the country
of our enemies, for without doubt this land to which we have
been blown is Norway; and although we can see no signs of
habitations there may well be villages somewhere among these
hills."
"I will be careful," Edmund said, laughing; "and if I do
not return in two days do you set sail without me. I should
like to discover the abode of some Northern jarl; it would
indeed be a grand retaliation to give them a taste of the
sufferings they have inflicted upon us."
"That would be good work," Egbert said; "nevertheless I
own that at present I am anxious to be at sea again."
"Two days will be sufficient to refit," Edmund said, "and
then we will spread our wings. Good-bye, Egbert, I will be
back by sunset, and I hope with a deer or two."
Selecting a couple of followers, both skilled with the bow,
and all being armed with spears, Edmund leapt ashore, for
the water was deep up to the rocks, and the Dragon had been
moored alongside for the convenience of taking on board
the wood for the repairs.
Although those on board the Dragon guessed it not, many
eyes were watching them. A small fishing village lay at the
edge of the fiord a mile or two beyond the inlet in which the
ship was moored. Hidden as they were among the trees the
huts had not been noticed by the Saxons, but the strange
ship had been seen by some of those in the village, and the
fishermen at once pronounced that whencesoever she might
have come she was assuredly no Northman's ship. Messengers
had immediately been sent to the villages among the
hills. These were widely scattered, and it was not until the
day after the ship's arrival that a force was collected which
was deemed sufficient to attack it. Already, as Edmund leapt
ashore, the Norsemen were making their way quietly through
the forest towards the Dragon.
Edmund had advanced but a few hundred yards up the
hillside when a large party of Norsemen suddenly sprang upon
him. Two Saxon arrows flew true to their marks, then the
Danes rushed upon them. So far no words had been spoken,
but Edmund placed to his lips the whistle with which he gave
orders on board the ship and blew a long shrill note, and
then shouted at the top of his voice:
"The Danes! the Danes! push off!"
The instant afterwards he was attacked. He and his men
fought bravely, but in a few seconds the latter were cut down
and Edmund was levelled to the ground by a tremendous
blow from a club.
A minute later the din of battle rose by the water's side;
Edmund's whistle and shout had been heard, and the Saxons
on shore sprang on board and seized their spears and bows
just as the Danes poured down through the trees. For a time
the Saxons defended the ship against the desperate attempts
of the Danes to gain footing on her; but seeing the number
of its assailants, and being certain that Edmund was killed or
captured, Egbert ordered the ropes to be cut, and the Dragon
was thrust away from the rocks. The oars were then got out
and she rowed out of bow-shot from the shore. Then Egbert
held a consultation with the leading men among the Saxons.
All on board were filled with grief at the loss of their
young leader, but they felt that nothing could be done for
him, and it would be but courting danger to remain longer in
the fiord. Since so large a force had been collected in the
forest news might have been sent to the ports, and at any
moment they might see a fleet of the Northmen's galleys
barring their retreat; therefore with bitter grief and
lamentation the Dragon's sails were hoisted and she made
her way to sea.
"My only consolation is," Egbert said, "that if the brave
lad is not killed at once he may yet find his way back to
England. He is ready of wit and full of invention that, if any
can possibly extricate themselves from such a strait, it is
assuredly he; but I fear that he fell in the first onslaught.
Brave lad, even in the moment of his own peril he thought first
of us. Had it not been for his timely warning we should have
been taken unawares, and many must have been killed even
if the Dragon herself escaped capture."
The storm had entirely abated, and the waters sparkled
brightly in the cold January sun as the Dragon sailed out
between the two headlands into the sea. Very different were
the feelings of the crew to those which had animated them
when, two days before, they had passed through the channel;
then every heart beat with joy and thankfulness; now the
deepest depression and grief reigned on board.
Edmund was adored by his followers. His kindness as
their ealdorman, his skill and bravery as a leader, his
cheerfulness and brightness under every danger and peril had
immensely endeared him to their hearts, and each man felt
that he had sustained an irretrievable loss, and that with their
chief the spirit which had animated the Dragon and directed
their enterprises was gone.
Egbert was a valiant warrior, and was an admirable second
to an enterprising leader; but he was altogether without
initiative, and, except when excited by danger, was dull and
silent. Although all esteemed him and honoured him for his
strength and bravery, they felt that he would be a poor
substitute indeed for the leader they had lost.
CHAPTER IX: A PRISONER
When Edmund recovered his senses he found that
he was being carried along on a rough litter through
the forest. It was some little time before he realized
his position and recalled the circumstances of the attack.
After the Dragon had moved safely out into the fiord,
its assailants had returned to the spot where they had attacked
the three Saxons who had landed. Two of them were without
life, but they found that the third, who, from his
habiliments was evidently of higher rank, and whom they
judged, although still but a youth, to be the commander of
the Saxon party, had only been stunned by the blow of the
club which had felled him.
It was at once resolved to carry him to the jarl of the
district, who would assuredly wish to learn from him the
meaning of the coming of the strange ship. That the Dragon
was a Saxon vessel the Northmen were sure. Many of them
had been on expeditions across the seas, and knew the Saxons
both from their dress and manner of wearing their hair,
but the ship was unlike anything they had seen before, and it
seemed above all things strange that when, as they understood,
England had been completely conquered, Saxon warships should
be entering a northern fiord.
For many hours Edmund was carried through the forest.
He wondered to himself whether he would be slain on his arrival
or kept as a slave, for the Norse and Saxon tongues
were so similar that he was perfectly able to understand the
language of his captors. A party of twelve men accompanied
him, four of whom bore the litter, and were relieved at intervals
by the others. After some hours the feeling of giddiness
and weakness passed off, and on the men stopping to change
bearers he expressed his readiness to walk.
Hitherto he had lain with his eyes closed, as he thought
it better to remain as he was until he felt perfectly able to
keep up with his captors in a journey which might, for aught
he knew, be a long one. The Northmen expressed their
satisfaction at finding that their burden need no longer be
carried, and throwing aside the boughs which had formed the
litter, proceeded with him on their way. They asked him
many questions concerning the Dragon. Most of these he
answered readily enough, but he evaded those as to the place
where she had been built, or the port from which she had
sailed. It was not until late in the afternoon that they arrived
at the abode of the Jarl Bijorn.
It was a rough abode constructed of timber, thatched
with rushes, for as yet the Northmen were scarcely a settled
people, the tribes for the most part wandering in the forests
hunting when not engaged in those warlike expeditions which
they loved above all other things. Only the leaders dwelt in
anything like permanent abodes, the rest raising huts of
boughs at such places as they might make any stay at.
One of Edmund's conductors had gone on ahead, and
as the party approached the building Bijorn came out from
his house to meet them. He was, like almost all Northmen, a
man of great stature and immense strength. Some fifty years
had passed over his head, but he was still in the prime of his
life; for the Northmen, owing to their life of constant
activity, the development of their muscles from childhood, and
their existence passed in the open air, retained their strength
and vigour to a great age.
So assiduous was their training, and so rapidly did their
figures develop in consequence, that at the age of fifteen a
young Northman received arms and was regarded as a man,
although he did not marry until many years afterwards, early
wedlock being strongly discouraged among them. By Bijorn's
side stood his son, who, though but twenty-two years old,
rivalled him in stature and in muscular development, although
lacking the great width of shoulder of the jarl.
As Edmund approached, a war-horse of the jarl fastened
up to a post close to the entrance of the house neighed loudly.
Bijorn looked surprised. The neighing of a horse among the
Northmen was regarded as the happiest of auguries, and in
their sacred groves horses were tied up, as the neighing of
these animals was considered an infallible proof that a
propitious answer would be given by the gods to the prayer of
any petitioner who sought their aid.
"By Thor!" Bijorn exclaimed, "my good war-horse welcomes
the stranger. As I said to you anon, Sweyn, I had intended
to offer him as a sacrifice to Odin; but as the gods
have thus declared him welcome here I must needs change
my intentions. Who are you, young Saxon?" he asked as
Edmund was brought before him, "and whence do you come?
And how is it that a war-ship of your people is found upon
our coasts?"
"I am Edmund," the young man said steadily, "an
ealdorman of King Alfred of the West Saxons. The ship which
was seen on your coast is mine; I built it to attack the
Northmen who harry our coasts. I am here because, when
in chase of four of your ships, a storm arose and blew us
hither."
"You speak boldly," the jarl said, "for one in the hands of
his foes. How old are you?"
"I am twenty-two," Edmund replied.
"The same age as you, Sweyn. Stand side by side and let
me compare you. Ay," he went on, "he lacks nigh three inches
of your height, but he is more than that bigger across the
shoulders--a stalwart young champion, indeed, and does
brave credit to his rearing. These West Saxons have shown
themselves worthy foemen, and handled us roughly last year,
as this will testify," and he pointed to the scar of a sword-cut
across his face. "Doubtless this is the son of that Saxon earl
who more than once last summer inflicted heavy losses upon
us. Is that so, young Saxon?"
"I am the Ealdorman Edmund himself," the young man
replied quietly. "My successes were won not by my own
strength or courage, but by the valour of those under me,
who, fighting in a novel manner, gained advantage over your
Northmen."
"By Thor!" Bijorn exclaimed, "and this is the youth who
attacked us at night and drove off the cattle we had taken
and slew many of our followers, Sweyn! Truly he would be a
rare sacrifice to offer to Odin; but the god has himself
welcomed him here."
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