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Updated: May 22, 2025
But he put his hand on my shoulder very kindly, and looked in my face and said: "One may know that this is the son of Siric, my friend. He is like what the good thane was in the old days. What shall I do for him, lady?" Now, my mother would have answered, but I was not afraid of this handsome, careless-looking man, and I had my own wishes in the matter. So I spoke for myself.
Just then I interrupted them, for I could no longer hear the blasphemy. "How now, Siric," said I; "hast thou come to Aescendune to revile the saints?" "Nay, Father," said he, with a mocking smile; "I was only rejoicing that they were not exposed to such trials as we. Job's Chaldeans were gentlefolk in comparison with our Danes." "Thou blasphemest; and what didst thou say of the blessed St. Brice?"
"Elfwyn," said I, "what do you suppose was the true object of the sheriff in bidding folks keep indoors tonight?" "I cannot divine, unless he has some deed of blood on hand which he wishes to have undisturbed, all to himself and his underlings." "Siric spoke mysteriously." "Yes; if there is aught going on amiss, he has a hand in it."
And when I had seen the last flash of arms sparkle from among the copses beyond the bridge, I had looked on Siric, my father, for the last time in this world, but no thought rose up in my mind that this might be so.
I looked up wondering, for I could not think how she knew that name, or indeed any other than that of Siric, my father, and maybe Thorgeir, my grandfather, for Olaf had told them at first, when they took charge of me, to what family I had belonged, and how I was akin to him. "That was not my mother's name," I answered. "It was that of a playfellow of mine. How could you know it?"
I will make up the loss of the cattle, my brother the prior will have a mass said for poor Guthred, and he shall have the last rites performed at our expense; it is all we can do for him; the rest we must leave to the mercy of God." "Nay, Thane," said Siric; "I thank you for your goodwill, but I may not stand thus indebted to any man. I will repay myself at the expense of the robbers.
Then he said to me: "Siric your father had a wondrous sword that I used to envy him; you shall learn to use it." "Lord king," I answered, "I must learn to win it back from the Danes, who have it now." I thought the king changed countenance a little at that, and he bit his lip. "We have been well beaten in East Anglia," he said as if to himself. "Here is truth from this boy at least."
"Heard you the prior's sermon?" said Siric, for that was the fellow, Siric of the Wold; "a fine homily he gave us on St. Brice that man of peace." "It was easy for him to be a man of peace," returned another; "he hadn't got Danes for his neighbours." "Holy Job himself would have turned cutthroat if he had." "Then they have been insulting, robbing, and murdering all over the country."
He seemed much concerned when he heard the details. "Siric," he said, with his usual kind way of speaking, "do not distress yourself unduly; you know I am rich in flocks and herds.
And so it came to pass that I, Redwald, son of Siric, the Thane of Bures, stood at the gate of our courtyard and watched my father and our sturdy housecarles and freemen ride away down the hill and across the winding Stour river to join the great levy at Colchester.
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