第 49 页

she seemed to Wulf to have aged years since he saw her a week before.

"My presentiments have come true, Wulf," she said. "It was no surprise to

me when last night the news came that the battle was lost and Harold slain.

I had looked and waited for it. You were coming to fetch me?"

"Yes, lady; Harold's body has not been found. Early this morning two monks

of Waltham, who had followed the army and seen the fight afar off, came

into camp, and with them Gytha, Harold's mother. She saw the duke, and

begged for Harold's body, offering its weight in gold if she might carry it

for burial to the Abbey of Waltham. The duke refused, saying that an

excommunicated man could not be buried in a holy place; she might remove

the bodies of her other two sons, but Harold's, when found, should be

buried by the seacoast. The monks searched in vain for the body. Beorn and

I have done the same, but have failed to recognize it in so vast a heap of

slain."

"I shall know it," Edith said. "Among a thousand dead I should know

Harold."

"It is a terrible sight, lady, for a woman to look upon," Wulf said gently.

"I shall see nothing but him," she replied firmly.

He accompanied her back to the battle-ground, where the two monks joined

her. Wulf, who was greatly shaken by the sight of her set and white face,

left her with them.

What the eye of friendship had failed to accomplish, that of love detected

unerringly. There were marks on Harold's body by which Edith recognized it.

One of the monks bore the news to the duke, who charged Sir William Malet

to superintend the burial, and to do it with all honour. The remains were

collected and reverently placed together. They were wrapped in a purple

robe, and laid on a litter. Beorn and Wulf and the two monks lifted it;

Edith walked behind, followed by Lord de Burg and several other Norman

knights and barons who had known Harold in Normandy, and could admire and

appreciate the valour of the dead hero. The little procession went down to

the shore, where Norman soldiers had already dug a grave, and there by the

coast he had defended so well Harold was laid to rest, and over his body a

great cairn of stones was raised by order of the duke.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE LORD OF BRAMBER.

Edith stood by while the Norman soldiers piled the stones over the grave.

No tear had fallen from her eyes from the time that she had reached the

field of battle. Her face was as pale as marble, and looked almost as

rigid. When the last stone was placed on the top of the cairn she turned to

Wulf and Beorn:

"Farewell, Wulf! farewell, Beorn! I am glad you were here. I am glad that

beside me stood two of his most trusted thanes, and two of the monks from

the abbey he founded, and whose welfare was so dear to him. I go to Lewes,

and when the doors of the convent close on me I shall be dead to the world.

Would that I were lying beneath that cairn by the side of my dear lord. I

cannot weep for him now, the springs of my heart seem frozen, but I have

time for that. Farewell, thanes! I shall remember you in my prayers." So

saying she turned away, and walked back to the litter.

"Poor lady!" Beorn exclaimed as he watched the litter, escorted by the two

monks, carried along the road.

"Poor lady indeed!" Wulf repeated; "and yet there are thousands in England

and Normandy who were widowed yesterday, and maybe she is better off than

many. She lost Harold the day she resigned him to another, and it was

harder perhaps to be parted from him in that fashion than to know that he

is dead now. She can think of him as his true widow, for assuredly the

queen who never cared aught for him is a widow but in name. Before, Edith

was tortured by the desire to see him and to comfort him, and yet his

marriage stood as a gulf between them, a gulf that she would never have

passed. Now she can think of him as her very own, as the man who had loved

her even as she had loved him. It is a grief, a terrible grief, but one

without bitterness. But see, Lord de Burg is coming this way, and as there

is a litter behind him I suppose all is ready for our departure."

"I am ready, young thanes," De Burg said as he came up. "We ride at once

for Pevensey, whither an order was sent some hours ago for a ship to be in

readiness to sail for Normandy."

Three horses were led up and mounted. They rode away, followed by an armed

party and the litter on which Osgod was laid.

"You have done your last duty to your king," the Norman said. "It is a fit

grave for a hero, and assuredly Harold was one. Maybe that it is not his

last resting-place. The duke at present doubtless felt constrained at first

to refuse him Christian burial, for had he granted Gytha's request, it

would have been an acknowledgment that the charges brought against him were

unfounded, and the excommunication of no avail; but I doubt not that in

time he will allow his body to be taken to his abbey at Waltham. Now," he

said less gravely, in order to turn their thoughts from the sad scenes they

had witnessed, "what think you of the future, will the Northern earls head

a national movement against us?"

"They are foul traitors!" Beorn exclaimed passionately; "and I would that

Wulf and I could meet them in fair lists and fight them."

"They will do nothing," Wulf said more quietly. "They will hasten to make

the best terms they can for themselves, and will ask to be permitted to

hold their earldoms as his vassals. But they will not long enjoy their

treachery; they are ever intriguers, and as soon as they see their

opportunity will conspire against William as they conspired against Harold.

Thank heaven they will receive scantier mercy at his hands than they

received at the king's. As for the South and East, who is to lead them?

There is no one left to whom they can look for guidance; doubtless in some

places they will resist, but such resistance can only bring ruin upon those

who attempt it. Maybe some will take to the forests or the great eastern

marshes, and may perhaps hold out for months, or even years. But what can

it avail in the end? Had Harold escaped alive there would have been many a

battle as obstinate as that of yesterday to fight before England was

conquered. Had any of the greater thanes escaped men would have flocked to

them, but they are all gone, save the few that were found well-nigh

lifeless this morning. Perhaps it is better as it is; for now that William

is victorious he will soon receive large bodies of reinforcements, and as

resistance would be vain, it were best that no resistance were made. Duke

William has shown himself a wise and just ruler in Normandy, and will

doubtless prove himself the same in England if he be not angered by revolts

and risings. It is hard that Englishmen should be ruled by a foreigner, but

it is no new thing for us. We Saxons conquered the Britons, and in turn

Danish kings have ruled over us; but Saxon and Dane have become almost one,

and the old grudges have died out. Maybe in time you Normans also may

become English."

"You would take the oath of allegiance to William then, Wulf?"

"Not now, my lord, but when England accepts him as her king I should be

willing to hold my lands from him as I have held them before from our

kings, that is, if the lands remain mine."

"They will remain yours," Lord de Burg said confidently. "The duke's

promise was publicly made, and he will certainly adhere to it; even if he

wished it, he could not, after charging Harold with perjury, break his own

promise."

The sun was sinking when they reached Pevensey, for the search for Harold's

body and the building of his cairn had occupied many hours. They went at

once on board one of the ships De Burg had himself furnished for the

expedition, and two days later landed at Rouen. They had brought horses

with them, and the two young thanes at once rode with the baron to his

chateau, leaving Osgod to be brought after them in his litter. Lord de Burg

was received with the greatest joy by his wife, Guy, and Agnes. They had

been in a state of terrible anxiety for the last twenty-four hours, for a

swift ship had been despatched by the duke with the news of the victory, at

daybreak after the battle, and it was known that the fight had been long

and desperately contested, and that a great number of barons and knights

had fallen. As soon as the first outburst of delight was over the baron

called in Wulf and Beorn, who had not followed him into the room, feeling

that he would prefer to greet his family alone. Guy gave an exclamation of

surprise and pleasure as they came forward.

"These are my prisoners," the baron said with a smile, "if I can call

prisoners those who have never surrendered. The duke has intrusted them to

my keeping, and has ordered that you shall hold them in safe custody."

"Lord de Burg does not tell you, lady, that he saved our lives, which but

for him were assuredly lost. We were well-nigh spent, and were surrounded

by a ring of foes when he broke in and stood beside us proclaiming that the

duke himself had given a pledge for our safety."

"I have paid part of the debt we owe," the baron said, "though I saved them

at no cost to myself, while Wulf defended Guy at the risk of his life."

"How long do you stay with us, my lord?"

"As long as I can, wife. I went, as you know, unwillingly to the war, but

when all the Norman barons followed the duke I could not hold back. But I

trust to have no more of it; so terrible a field no man living has seen,

and in truth until twilight fell it seemed that we should be beaten, with

such obstinacy and endurance did the English fight. We won, but it was a

victory over the dead rather than the living. Of Harold's regular troops no

man turned, no man asked for quarter, they fell where they stood; and even

the irregulars, who had fought with equal bravery, when, as night fell and

all was lost, they fled, inflicted well-nigh as heavy a blow upon us as had

been dealt during the day. I have no animosity against them, they are

valiant men, and were in their right in defending their country, and I

would that I could stay peacefully here until the last blow has been

struck. I am well content with my estates, and need no foot of English

land, no share in English spoil I must fight for my liege lord as long as

fighting goes on, but that over I hope to return here and live in peace.

At any rate I can tarry quietly here for a week Certainly no force can be

raised in time to oppose the duke's advance on London, and my sword

therefore may well rest in its scabbard. I suppose, thanes, you will not

object to give me your parole to attempt no escape?"

"Willingly, my lord," Beorn said. "If, contrary to our opinion, England

should rise and fight one more battle for freedom, we will give you due

notice that we shall if possible escape and cross the sea to join our

countrymen."

"That is fair enough," De Burg said with a smile, "and the moment you give

me notice I will clap you into so firm a cage that I warrant you will not

escape from it; but I trust the necessity will not arise. Now, Guy, take

your friends to their chambers and see to their comfort. I will not tell

the story of the battle until you return, for doubtless you are burning to

hear it, and in truth it will be famous in all times, both as one of the

sturdiest fights ever heard of, and because such great issues depended on

its results."

When Guy returned with his friends and a meal had been eaten, De Burg told

the story of the battle of Senlac.

"Such is the story as far as I know it," he added in conclusion, "but in

truth beyond the beginning and the end, and the fact that we twice fell

back and at one time were flying in headlong rout to our ships, I know

nothing. All day I was striving to break through a living wall, and

striving in vain. I can see now the close line of shields, the helmet

covered faces above them, and the terrible axes rising and falling,

cleaving through helmet and hauberk as if they had been pasteboard. It may

well-nigh be said that we have no wounded, for each man struck fell in his

track as if smitten by lightning. Can you add more, thanes?"

Beorn shook his head.

"It is like a dream," Wulf said. "We never moved through the long day. At

times there was a short lull, and then each man was fighting as best he

could. I know that my arms grew tired and that my axe seemed to grow

heavier, that horse and foot swept up to us, and there was occasionally

breathing time; that the royal brothers' voices rose ever cheeringly and

encouragingly until Gurth and Leofwin fell, and after that Harold's alone

was heard, though I think it came to my ears as from a distance, so great

was the tumult, so great our exertions. When Harold died I knew that all

was lost, but even that did not seem to affect me. I had become a sort of

machine, and fought almost mechanically, with a dim consciousness that the

end was close at hand. It was only at the last, when Beorn and I stood back

to back, that I seemed myself again, and was animated with new strength

that came, I suppose, from despair."

"It was an awful day," De Burg said. "I have fought in many battles under

the duke's banner, but the sternest of them were but paltry skirmishes in

comparison to this. Half of the nobles of Normandy lie dead, half the army

that filled the mighty fleet that sailed from St. Valery have fallen.

William is King of England, but whether that will in the end repay Normandy

for the loss she has suffered seems to me very doubtful. And now let us to

bed. I sleep not well on shipboard, and in truth I had such dreams of death

and slaughter that I ever awoke bathed with sweat, and in such fear that I

dared not go to sleep again."

At the end of a week the baron sailed again for England. To the two young