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Updated: June 11, 2025
Edmund, the king, is slain!" roused the household Elfwyn, Herstan, Hermann, the ladies, agitated beyond measure; the household guard; and, last of all, Edric. They beheld Alfgar in his night dress, all bloody, holding a dagger in his hand, and with his face blanched to a death-like paleness, uttering cry upon cry. "Help! Edmund, the king, is slain!" But doubtless this was fancy.
I will send members of the guard to do this, and when they have assembled we will all take counsel together." "O Alfgar," whispered Elfwyn, "how came your dagger there?" "I know not. I feel as one distracted," said the faithful and loving Alfgar, who had lost by this fell stroke a most faithful friend, with the warmest heart which had ever beaten beneath a monarch's breast.
That they should think I, or any one else than Edric, could have done such a deed, such an evil deed!" Elfwyn and Herstan both left the scene, the more convinced of Alfgar's innocence, but yet the more puzzled to convey their impression to others. Meanwhile the arrangements for Edmund's burial were made.
Well, Elfwyn tells us that when all were present bishops, ealdormen, thanes, and the noblest of the people Canute solemnly proposed that they should accept him as their king, giving them to understand that, by a tacit understanding with Edmund, it had been agreed that the kingdom should not be permanently divided, but that the survivor should inherit and govern the whole realm.
Diligent in the discharge of his religious duties, he was equally conspicuous in all warlike sports and exercises and in the chase, while he afforded much help to Elfwyn the thane in the management of the estate.
There is something in a life of adventure which warms the blood and makes time pass swiftly; my goodwife and I sometimes tire of each other's company, as I expect Ethelgiva and you will in time." "Never!" said Alfgar, so fervently that there was a general smile. "Well, time will show; meanwhile, how is the new hall at Aescendune getting on, Elfwyn?"
The enemy seized me, and would have slain me, but Elfwyn and his brother, Father Cuthbert, delivered me; and now thou hast slain their Bertric, and burnt both hall and priory." "Think not that I owe them gratitude for aught they have done. They tampered with thy faith, I now apprehend, even before the night of St.
We advanced still cautiously amongst the ruins, until we saw fifty or sixty horsemen cross the wooden bridge which the Danes had left uninjured, and advance with horror-stricken faces. They were my brother and his men. I recognised Elfwyn amongst them. I rushed up to him, and our tears mingled together. "They are safe, are safe," I cried. "Thank God!" broke from many an overcharged heart.
But there was one piece of information contained in the letter which made Alfgar very uneasy, and reminded him of his dream. One Boom, a retainer of Elfwyn, had been taken prisoner by the Danes, and by a very uncommon piece of good fortune had escaped with life from his ferocious captors.
"All too well; they were Anlaf's men." I hardly knew what to answer, the outrage was so recent, and the excitement of the speaker so pardonable, as I could but feel. Well, at this moment my brother Elfwyn came out of the church, where he had lingered to pray, as he generally does, at his brother's tomb, and, noticing us, came and joined the group.
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