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He leaned upon a corner of the table, staring at me intently. "From the south?" I echoed. Harley glanced in the direction of the open door. "Presently," he said, "we shall have to tell Aylesbury everything that we know. After all, he represents the law; but unless we can get Inspector Wessex down from Scotland Yard, I foresee a miscarriage of justice.
It has been the scene of battles. Not far off is Battle Edge, where the fierce kings of Wessex and Mercia fought in 720 A.D. on Midsummer Eve, in commemoration of which the good folks of Burford used to carry a dragon up and down the streets, the great dragon of Wessex.
It seemed that he had forgotten nothing, and that the day must go as he said he thought it would. Men slept on their arms that night, without watch fires, lest any prowling Danes should see that somewhat was on hand, although Guthrum had drawn to him every man from out of Wessex, as was said, and as seemed true.
But I was to be safe from such harm, and but that I must go hence, I was not to be hounded forth, nor was my shame to be published beyond Wessex. So that all the other kingdoms lay open and safe to me. None of this I heeded; I only knew that my enemies had got the mastery, and that ruin was upon me. So I ground my teeth and was mute. Then they cut my bonds and I stood free, but cared not.
It belonged to the local doctor, who had also taken part in the day's run and had been bidden to enliven the evening meal with the entertainment of his inexhaustible store of sporting and social reminiscences. He knew the countryside and the countryfolk inside out, and he was a living unwritten chronicle of the East Wessex hunt.
Many of those to whom he spoke have since died the martyr's or the patriot's death, but as yet no evil has reached us at Aescendune, although many parts of Wessex, nay, all the sea coast and the banks of the great rivers have been wasted with fire and sword, and the money which has been given the barbarians has been worse than wasted, for they only come for more.
Yet light, sound, and movement were not so much the essence of that giddy scene as an intense aim at obliviousness in the beings composing it. For two or three hours at least those whirling young people meant not to know that they were mortal. The room was beating like a heart, and the pulse was regulated by the trembling strings of the most popular quadrille band in Wessex.
However, if Wessex is to be made safe the sea-kings must be met on their own element; and so, with what expenditure of patience and money and encouraging words and example we may easily conjecture, the young King gets together a small fleet, and himself takes command of it.
Nor Anlaf the Dane With wreck of his troops, Could vaunt of the war Of the clashing of spears. Or the crossing of swords, with the offspring of Edward. The Northmen departed In their mailed barks, Sorrowing much; while the two brothers, The King and the Etheling, To Wessex returned, Leaving behind The corpses of foes To the beak of the raven, The eagle and kite, And the wolf of the wood.
After the conversion of King Cynegils the first Wessex bishopric was founded at Dorchester near the banks of the Thames, but by 674 this was removed to the capital where there had been built a small church dedicated to SS. Peter and Paul, probably on the site now occupied by the cathedral and originally by the church of Lucius and its predecessor.
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