All his heart was with his English friends; he felt that in going to the Danish camp he was really going to his death, for although within a few years the conversion of the Northmen took place, yet at this period their hatred of Christianity was simply ferocious, and his father belonged to the old heathen conservatives of his day, as did all his kinsfolk.
"O Aescendune, once happy Aescendune!" was the thought, the bitter thought, as each hour placed a larger barrier of space between Alfgar and his late home; all its happy memories came freshly back upon him, and particularly the thought of Ethelgiva, his betrothed, from whom he was so ruthlessly torn, torn as if he left part of himself behind.
They reached the confines of the forest by daybreak. Before them stretched an open country, where wild heaths alternated with cornfields, and wooded hills were of frequent occurrence upon the landscape.
All at once a signal of caution was given, and the whole party retired again within the cover of the wood, where they could see, for they were on an eminence, the whole district before them without being seen.
A body of fifty English soldiers was passing on the road, which lay at the distance of a few hundred yards only, travelling at a considerable speed, as if they anticipated the emergency of Aescendune, and hurried to the rescue. Alfgar knew them at once; they were Elfwyn and his troops; oh, if they had but arrived earlier, thought he, and started to see how completely English his sympathies were.
The Danes found it hard to repress their laughter at the thought of the reception which awaited the travellers at home; they had no idea of spoiling it by attacking them, although the numbers were about equal; besides, they had got all the plunder and spoil, and a battle would only endanger the success already obtained. So they lay in cover until the last straggler had disappeared in the direction of Aescendune, and then continued their course, with many a jest at the expense of the English.
Anlaf watched his son; he knew what his feelings were, and his thoughts were bitter as he felt that, could Alfgar have been consulted, he would be in that English band.
That night they arrived on the banks of the Thames, near Reading, the border of Mercia. Their passage had been quite unopposed; all the fighting men were in Wessex; and those who had seen the Danish party had fled with terror--they had not stopped long to plunder, but had speared one or two unfortunate victims who fell in their way, a sight which sickened Alfgar.
The following day they continued their march to the southeast, sometimes hiding in woods, for the country was mainly occupied by Ethelred's troops; sometimes pursued by larger bodies of horsemen, but always successful in distancing them, until, at the approach of eventide, they came in sight of the entrenched camp of the northern host. The spot was on the northern borders of the ancient kingdom of Sussex--the land of the Saxon Ella--a spot marvelously favoured by nature, occupying the summit of a low hill, which commanded a wide prospect on all sides, while itself almost impregnable when fortified, as it was, by ditches and mounds, dug in the usual Danish fashion, for the Danes owed much of their success to their skill in fortification.
Beautiful in time of peace was the country around, but its desolation was sufficient to sicken the heart. Blackened ruins lay on every side for miles; nay, they had disfigured the whole day's journey. Scarcely a town or hall, unless strongly fortified, had they seen standing, and this for nearly fifty miles.