Shortly Elfwyn returned from the priory, and received the messenger. The sealed packet only contained a formal summons to the general rendezvous of the forces, which was to take place at Dorchester, the episcopal city of the great Midland diocese, and situated in a central position, where Wessex and Mercia could easily unite the flower of their youth.
All the necessary preparations for departure were shortly made --the theows and ceorls were collected together, beasts of burden selected to carry the necessary baggage, the wallets filled with provisions.
Before the third hour of the day all had been done which the simple habits of the time required, and only the sorrowful leave takings remained. Husbands had to bid the last goodbye--it might be the very last--to their spouses, sons to their aged parents, fathers to their children. And then there was hurrying to and fro, as of people only half conscious of what they did; while the warriors strove to smile and preserve their fortitude.
But alas! there were no traditions of victory to encourage them; only gloomy remembrances of defeat; and, but for the stern call of duty which bade them, as men and Christians, go to the succour of their brethren, the majority would have preferred to remain at home and abide the worst, although they knew full well that submission utterly failed to mitigate the ferocious cruelty of their oppressors, who slew alike the innocent babe and the grey-haired grandsire.
Alfgar had volunteered to share the perils of his adopted lord, but was kindly told that it would be inexpedient. Indeed, by many he would have been suspected of treachery.
"Nay, Alfgar, remain at home; to you I commend the protection of my home, of the Lady Hilda, and our children," said Elfwyn.
Neither were Bertric's prayers to be allowed to share his father's perils any better received. He was bidden to remain where he was, and to be a good son to his mother--not that he had ever been otherwise.
And so the last sad words of adieu were spoken as bravely as might be, and the little troop, about fifty in number, departed from the hall. They crossed the rude wooden bridge, and took the southern road.
Their loved ones watched them until the last. They saw their warriors cast many a longing lingering look behind, and then the woodland hid them from sight; and a dread quiet came down upon Aescendune, as when the air is still before the coming hurricane.