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Wulf the Saxon

G >> G. A. Henty >> Wulf the Saxon




"It seems to me that I hear sounds in the forest, Guy."

"De Launey's men are posted behind us," Guy said carelessly; "there
is no fear of an attack."

"Not if they are vigilant," Wulf agreed. "But the Bretons have for
some time abstained from night surprises, and De Launey's men may
be keeping a poor watch."

Suddenly there was a loud cry, followed immediately by the Breton
war-shout, and by a confusion of shouts, cries, and the sound of
the clashing of arms.

The lads drew their swords and ran towards the scene of conflict,
when, from some bushes a short distance from them, a number of wild
figures sprung out. It was a party of the enemy who had made their
way through De Launey's sleeping men unobserved, and who now, knowing
that further concealment was useless, were rushing forward towards
the tents. Wulf's first impulse was to turn back, but young de
Burg, shouting his father's battle-cry, ran forward, and without
hesitation Wulf followed him. A moment later they were engaged with
the Bretons.

"Back to back, Guy!" Wulf exclaimed, as he ran his sword through
the first man who attacked him.

He had scarcely spoken when Osgod ran up and joined them, and
wielding the heavy axe he carried as if it had been a featherweight,
struck down several of the Bretons who ventured within its swing.

Wulf defended himself as firmly, but had to shift his ground
continually to avoid the blows of the heavy spiked clubs with which
his assailants were armed. Presently he heard his name shouted, and
an instant later a crash, as Guy de Burg was struck down.

"Stand over him, Osgod!" he shouted, and with a bound was beside
his companion, cutting down a Breton who was about to thrust his
spear into him. At the same moment a club descended on his helmet,
bringing him for a moment to his knee. He sprang up again, Osgod
striking his opponent to the ground before he could repeat his blow.

For two or three minutes the fight went on. Wulf received more than
one stab from the Breton knives, as two or three of them often
rushed in upon him at once, but each time when he was hard pressed
Osgod's axe freed him from his assailants, for so terrible were the
blows dealt by the tall Saxon that the Bretons shrank from assailing
him, and thus left him free at times to render assistance to Wulf.
But the combat was too unequal to last long. A pike-thrust disabled
Wulf for a moment, and as his arm fell a blow from a club stretched
him beside Guy. Osgod had also received several wounds, but furious
at his master's fall he still defended himself with such vigour
that the Bretons again fell back. They were on the point of attacking
him anew, when there was a shout, and William and Harold, bareheaded
as they had leapt from the table, and followed by a score or two
of Norman barons and soldiers, fell upon the Bretons. The latter
with cries of alarm at once fled.

By this time the Norman trumpets were everywhere sounding, and the
troops hastening out to repel the attack, which a few minutes later
ceased as suddenly as it began, the Bretons flying into the forest,
where pursuit by the heavily-armed Normans was hopeless. Returning
to the tents, the duke and Harold paused where Osgod, who had sunk
to the ground as soon as the Breton attack had ceased, was sitting
by the side of his master.

"Whom have we here?" the duke asked. "Whoever they are we owe our
safety to them, Harold, for had it not been for the resistance they
made, the Bretons would have been among our tents before we had
time to catch up our arms. Bring a torch here!" he shouted; and two
or three soldiers came running up from the tents with lights.

"Methinks it is one of my men," Harold said, and repeated the duke's
question in Saxon.

"I am Osgod, my lord, the servant of Wulf of Steyning, who with his
friend, Guy de Burg, lies here beside me, I fear done to death."

"I trust not, indeed," Harold said, stooping over the bodies.

At this moment the men came up with the lights. "By the rood,"
William exclaimed, "but they fought stoutly, whoever they are. The
ground round them is covered with the bodies of these Breton rascals.
There must be at least a score of them, while so far as I can see
there are but three of our men. Who are they, Harold?"

"One is Guy, son of the Baron de Burg," Harold replied. "Another
is young Wulf, and this stout fellow is his man."

"Right gallantly have they done," the duke exclaimed, "and I trust
that their lives are not spent. Let someone summon De Burg here
quickly. Carry his son to his tent, and bid my leech attend at once
to his wounds and to those of these brave Saxons."

"I will carry Wulf to his tent myself," Harold said, raising the
lad and carrying him off, while four soldiers followed bearing
Osgod. They were laid down together in Wulf's tent. As the young
thane's helmet was removed, he opened his eyes and looked round in
bewilderment as he saw, by the light of the torches, Harold and
several others standing beside him.

"What has happened?" he asked faintly.

"The best thing that has happened is that you have come to yourself
and are able to speak, Wulf," Harold said. "But do not try to talk,
lad, until the leech comes and examines your wounds. You have done
us all a rare service to-night, for thanks to the carelessness of
De Launey's men, most of whom have paid for their error with their
lives, we should all have been taken by surprise had it not been
for the brave stand you made. Now we will take off your garments
and see where you are wounded. They seem to be soaked everywhere
with blood."

"I received three or four gashes with their knives," Wulf said
feebly, "and I think a spear wound. How are the others?"

"I know not about Guy," Harold said, "but your man is able to speak,
and has not, I hope, received mortal injuries."

"Don't trouble yourself about me, Master Wulf," Osgod put in. "I
have got a few pricks with the knaves' knives, and a spear-thrust
or two, but as I was able to keep on my feet until the earl arrived
with help, I think the wounds are of no great consequence."

"If aught happens to me," Wulf said to Harold, "I pray you to see
to him, my lord, and to take him as one of your own men. Had it not
been for him the Bretons would have made short work of us."

He could barely utter the words, and again became insensible from
loss of blood.

When he recovered the leech was kneeling beside him, pouring oil
into his wounds and applying bandages.

"Do not try to talk," he said quietly, as Wulf opened his eyes.
"Lie quite still, the least movement might cause your wounds to
break out afresh. They are serious, but I think not of a mortal
nature."

"Guy?" Wulf whispered.

"He is in a more perilous condition than you are, but it is possible
that he too may live. As for your man here, I have as yet but glanced
at his wounds; but though cut sorely, I have no fear for his life.
Now drink this potion, and then go off to sleep if you can."

Wulf drank off the contents of the goblet placed to his lips, and
in a few minutes was fast asleep. When he woke it was broad daylight,
and Beorn was sitting by his side. The latter put his finger to his
lips.

"You are not to talk, Wulf. The leech gave me the strictest orders
when he was here a short time since, and said that you seemed to
be doing well. Osgod he says will surely recover, and be none the
worse for the letting out of some of his blood. The Bretons were
too hasty with their strokes, and although he has a dozen wounds
none of them are serious. Guy de Burg is alive, but as yet the
leech can say nothing. It has been a bad business. It seems that
De Launey's men were most of them killed whilst they were asleep.
The bodies of the sentries were found at their posts, but whether
they were asleep, or whether, as is thought more likely, their foes
stole up and killed them before they had time to utter a cry, we
know not. The Bretons attacked at two or three other points, but
nowhere with such success, though many Normans have fallen. Everyone
says that the party which passed through De Launey's men would have
reached the tents and probably killed most of those in them had
they not stopped while some of their number attacked you and Guy
de Burg. The duke and Harold have both said that your bravery saved
us from a great disaster. I would that I had been with you, but the
tent I was in was the farthest along the line, and the Bretons were
in full flight before we came upon the scene."

Presently the Baron de Burg came to the side of the pallet on which
Wulf was lying. "I cannot say that I owe you the life of my son,"
he said, laying his hand gently upon Wulf's, "for I know not as yet
whether he will live, but he was sensible when we brought him to
my tent, and he told me that you had stood over him and defended
him from the Bretons until you too fell. He was sensible all the
time, though unable to move."

"It was Osgod who did most of the fighting, my lord," Wulf said.

"He did much, Wulf, and it will be my pleasure to reward him, but
the duke, who is full of admiration at the slaughter done by three
alone, has caused the bodies to be examined. Twelve of them were
killed with axe wounds, nine by sword wounds. Guy tells me that he
knows that only two fell to his sword, therefore you must have slain
seven. Truly a feat that any man might be proud of, to say nothing
of a lad of your age. Guy is anxious to have you with him, and the
leech said that if you keep quiet to-day, and none of your wounds
break out afresh, it will do you no harm to be carried to my tent."

Accordingly the next day Wulf was carried across to Lord de Burg's,
and his pallet set down by the side of Guy's. The latter was a
little better, and the leech had faint hopes of his recovery. His
right arm had been broken by a blow with a club, and so badly
fractured that it had already been taken off near the shoulder. His
most dangerous wound was a pike-thrust on the left side, which had
penetrated his lungs. He smiled faintly as Wulf was placed by his
side. Wulf tried to smile back again, but he was too much shocked
at the change in his friend's appearance. His cheeks had fallen
in, and his face was deadly pale. His lips were almost colourless,
and his eyes seemed unnaturally large. Wulf made an effort to speak
cheerfully.

"We did not expect to come to this so soon, Guy," he said. "We
have often talked about fighting, but we never thought that our
first serious fight would end like this."

"You have nothing to regret," Baron de Burg said. "You have both
done your duty nobly, and one of gentle blood can wish for no better
end than to die doing his duty against great odds. God grant that
you may both be spared, but if it be otherwise, death could not
come to you more gloriously than in giving your lives to save your
lords from surprise."

Wulf's recovery was comparatively rapid. He was greatly pleased
when, a week after his removal, Osgod was brought into the tent by
Harold. He was still pale and feeble, but was able to walk, and
assured his young lord that he should soon be ready for another
fight with the Bretons.

"There will be no more fighting," Harold said. "Yesterday their
chiefs came in to make their submission and ask for mercy, and on
this being granted their fortress has surrendered this morning.
They will pay a heavy fine in cattle, and their two strongest
fortresses are to be garrisoned by Norman troops. A considerable
slice of their territory is to be taken from them. In a week I hope
we shall all be on our way back to Rouen."

Guy was mending very slowly. Even yet the leech could not say with
certainty that his life would be saved, and warned his father that
in any case he would for a very long time be an invalid. In another
week the camp was broken up. Wulf declared that he was well enough
to sit a horse, but the leech insisted that he should be carried
on a litter.

"In another fortnight," he said, "you may be able to ride, but it
would not be safe to attempt to do so now. You are going on as well
as could be wished, and it would be madness to risk everything by
haste."

Accordingly he and Guy were transported in litters to the baron's
residence, where Wulf steadily recovered his health and strength.
Osgod, who had received a heavy purse of gold from the baron, had
at the end of that time entirely recovered; Guy still lay pale and
feeble on his couch.

"I scarcely wish to live," he said one day to his father. "I can
never be a warrior now. What have I got to live for?"

"You have much to live for, Guy," his father said, "even if you
never bestride a war-horse. You have made a name for yourself for
bravery, and will always be held in respect. It is not as if you
had been from your birth weak and feeble. You will in time, I hope,
come to be lord of our estates and to look after our people, and
be beloved by them; and, if you cannot yourself lead them in the
field, you can see that they go well equipped, and do honour to
your banner. There are other things besides fighting to live for."

"I would that you had had another son, father, and that Wulf had
been my brother. I should not so much have minded then that I could
not myself carry the banner of De Burg into the field."

"Had he been one of ourselves, Guy, that might have come about,"
his father said, "for if I have no other son I have a daughter. But
this young Saxon has his own estates in his own country. He would
not settle down here as a Norman baron, and I would not lose Agnes
nor be willing that she should go from us to dwell in a foreign
land. But no one can say what the future will bring about. The duke
has promised one of his daughters to Harold, and should the marriage
come off it will bind the two peoples more closely together. Besides,
you know, Edward of England has promised to Duke William that he
should succeed him."

"I was speaking to Wulf about that one day, father, and he said
that Edward had no power to make the gift, for that the people of
England chose their king themselves, and that Edward's promise would
go for nothing with them. It is not with them as it is with us,
where a prince can name his successor."

"That may be Saxon opinion, Guy, but it is not Norman, and assuredly
it is not the duke's; and friendly as are the relations between him
and Harold, it is clear that until this question is settled no
permanent friendship can be looked for between the two nations."

Wulf was sorry when the time came that he could no longer linger
at Baron de Burg's chateau. The earl had more than once sent over
to say that his presence was looked for at court as soon as he was
sufficiently recovered to attend there, but he stayed on until he
felt so thoroughly strong and well that he could not make his health
any longer an excuse. On leaving, De Burg and his wife both pressed
him to come over whenever he could spare time.

"You know, Wulf," the former said, "how warm is the affection Guy
has for you, and he will look very eagerly for your visits. Just
at present he has very few pleasures in life, and chief among them
will be your comings. We are all dull here, lad, and Agnes will
miss you sorely."

"I will ride over whenever I can. I should be ungrateful indeed did
I not do so, after the great kindness you and Lady de Burg have
shown me; but even putting this aside I will come every day if I
can, if only for half an hour's talk with Guy."

"I am glad to see you back again, Wulf," Earl Harold said as the
lad entered his room. "You look strong and well again, and might,
methinks, have come to us before now."

"I could have done so, doubtless, my lord, but it pained me to leave
Guy, who is still on his couch, and will, I fear, never be strong
and well again."

"We heard but a poor account of him from the duke's leech," Harold
said. "It is a sad thing; for one, who as a lad has shown such
bravery, would have turned out a gallant knight. I should have let
you linger there for some time yet, but the duke has frequently
asked after you, and I thought it were best that you came over;
though, in truth, there will be little for you to do here, and you
will be able to ride and see your friend when you will."

"Are we likely to go back to England soon, my lord?"

"I trust it will not be long. I have spoken of it more than once
to the duke, but he chides me for being weary of his company; which
indeed I am not, for no man could have treated another better than
he has done me. Still," he said, walking up and down the room, "I
am impatient to be off, but I am no more free to choose my time
here that I was at Beaurain. It is a velvet glove that is placed
on my shoulder, but there is an iron hand in it, I know right well."

"Is there no possibility of escaping, my lord?"

Harold looked keenly at the boy. "No, Wulf, treated as I am as a
guest I cannot fly without incurring the reproach of the basest
ingratitude, nor even if I wished it could I escape. Under the
excuse of doing me honour, there are Norman soldiers at the gate,
and a Norman sentry stands at my door. I must go through with it
now, and if need be promise all that William asks. This time there
is nowhere to send you to fetch aid for me. You have heard, I
suppose, that William has promised me his daughter in marriage?"

"Yes, my lord, I have heard it. Is the marriage to take place soon?"

Harold smiled. "The duke will not wish it to take place until he
sees that he can secure my services by the marriage. If that time
should never come I shall probably hear no more of it. Engagements
have been broken off before now many a time, and absolution for a
broken promise of that kind is not hard to obtain. You must attend
the court this evening, Wulf."

Wulf bowed and withdrew, and in the evening attended the court in
the suite of Harold. As soon as the duke's eye fell upon him he
called him up.

"Messieurs," he said to the barons present, "this lad is Wulf, Thane
of Steyning, and a follower of Earl Harold. He it was who, with the
young Guy de Burg, and aided only by a Saxon man-at-arms, withstood
the first rush of the Bretons, and so gained time by which I myself
and my barons were able to prepare ourselves to resist the attack.
Had it not been for them we should all have been taken by surprise,
and maybe slain. The Saxon and the two lads, Wulf and De Burg, all
fell wounded well-nigh to death, but not before twenty-one Bretons
lay dead around them. This was indeed a feat of arms that any of
you, valiant knights and barons as you are, might have been proud
to perform.

"Already I had promised him any boon that in reason he may ask for
having borne to me the news that Earl Harold, my honoured guest and
brother-in-arms, had been cast on our shores, and I promise him
now, that should at any time it happen that I have any power or
influence in England, his estates shall remain to him and to his
heirs free from all service or dues, even though he has withstood
me in arms;--nay, more, that they shall be largely added to. Should
such issue never arise, and aught occur to render him desirous of
crossing the seas hither, I promise him a baron's feu as a token
of my gratitude for the great service he rendered me; and I am well
assured that, whether to a King of England or to a Duke of Normandy,
he will prove himself a true and faithful follower. I call on you
all here to witness this promise that I have made, and should there
be need, to recall it to my memory."

The Normans above all things admired valour, and when Wulf, after
kneeling and kissing the duke's hand, retired shamefacedly to a
corner of the room, where he was joined by Beorn, one after another
came up to him and said a few words of approbation.

"You have done well, young sir," Fitz-Osberne, one of the duke's
most trusted councillors said to him. "The duke is not given to
overpraise, and assuredly no one of your age has ever won such
commendation from his lips. After making so fair a commencement,
it will be your own fault indeed if you do not make a great name
for yourself in the future. There is not one of us who was in the
duke's camp that evening but feels that he owes you much for the
few minutes' delay that saved us from being taken altogether by
surprise. You are young, and may think but little of the promise the
duke has given you this evening, but the day may come when you will find
it stand you in good stead."

Harold said nearly the same thing to Wulf when he saw him the next morning.

"But there is no chance of the duke ever having power in England, my lord,"
Wulf said.

"I trust not, Wulf, but there is no doubt that his whole mind is bent upon
obtaining the throne of England. He has spoken to me openly about it, and
has more than hinted to me that I, if married to his daughter, would still,
as Earl of Wessex, be the foremost man in the land next to its sovereign
should he ever gain the kingdom."

"And what said you, my lord, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"I said but little, lad. I am a prisoner, and I am well assured that I
shall never return to England until William thinks that he can depend upon
me. It is needful that I should return, and that quickly, for I hear that
there is fresh trouble in Wales, and I have received an urgent message from
the king to hasten to his side. It is hard to see what it is best to do."

Four days later a grand ceremony was announced to take place, but few knew
what its nature was to be. That it was something beyond the ordinary was
certain by the number of barons and knights that were bidden to attend. A
dais was erected in the courtyard of the palace, and on this a table
covered with a cloth was placed.

"I don't like this business," Wulf said to Beorn, as with the other Saxons
they took their place near the dais. "There is something very mysterious
about it, and I believe that at last we are going to see what William's
full intentions are."

A religious ceremony was first held, and then the duke rose to his feet and
addressed the barons. He first recalled to them the promise that Edward of
England had made to him, and then went on: "The saints have worked in my
favour," he said, "by sending here as my guest my well-beloved
brother-in-arms, the great Earl of Wessex. Between us there is the closest
friendship, and to cement and make even closer the bonds between us, he has
become betrothed to my daughter, and through the lands I shall bestow upon
her he will become a baron of Normandy. Relying upon his affection and
friendship, I have called you here together to hear him swear in public
that which he has already told me privately--that he will be my faithful
feudatory, and will in all ways aid me to gain my lawful rights."

Harold changed colour. The matter had come upon him as a surprise.
Doubtless he had in a vague way when discussing his future relations as
son-in-law to the duke, expressed his warm friendship and a general
willingness to be of service to him, but to be called upon to take an oath
publicly was a different matter. Most of those present had taken oaths of
allegiance to William and had broken them again and again, and William
himself had not less frequently broken his feudal oaths to his suzerain,
the King of France. But Harold was a man with a deep sense of religion, and
did not esteem as lightly as these Norman barons an oath thus sworn; but he
felt that he had fallen into a trap, and that resistance would but consign
him to a prison, if not a grave.

He at once understood how hollow had been the pretended friendship of his
host; but he was in William's power, and unless as a friend the duke would
never permit so formidable a rival to quit his shores. As he hesitated he
saw a movement on the part of the Norman knights near the dais, and
understood that they had been previously informed of William's intentions,
and were there to enforce them. Their brows were bent on him angrily as he
hesitated, and more than one hand went to the hilt of the wearer's sword.
There was no drawing back, and placing his hand on the table he swore the
oath William had dictated. When he concluded William snatched the cloth
from the table, and below it were seen a number of bones and sacred relics
that had been brought from the cathedral.

Enlightened as Harold was, he was not altogether free from the
superstitions of the age. For a moment he shuddered slightly and grew paler
than before, then he drew himself up to his full height, and looked calmly
into the exulting face of William.

"I call you all to witness," the duke said in a loud voice, "that Harold,
Earl of Wessex, has taken a solemn oath upon the holy relics to be my
faithful feudatory."

The shout that answered him was by no means universal, for there were many
among the Norman nobles who were shocked at the base trick that the duke
had played upon a guest for whom he had professed the warmest friendship.
The Saxon thanes could scarce contain their expressions of indignation, but
Harold as he sat down among them made a gesture commanding silence.

"We sail for England to-morrow night," he said in low tones. "The duke told
me so as we came hither. The two ships will be in readiness for us to
embark in the morning. I did not understand then the price I was to pay.
Restrain yourselves now; when we are free men we can talk this over."

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