At length a solitary serf came to the gate:
"Who is there?"
"A messenger for the Etheling; is Prince Edmund with you? I would see him."
"All are welcome tonight, but I fear you will find the Etheling ill-disposed to leave the feast."
"Let me in."
Astonished at the tone of the request, the porter reluctantly complied, first looking around.
"Why, thou art wild and breathless; is aught amiss?"
"Step out and look over the hills; what dost thou see?"
"Why, the heaven is in fire; is it the northern lights?"
"Southern, you mean; the Danes are upon us."