“He should have fought with his own people.”
“His own people were those who had really adopted him when his father and family disowned him, and with them he fought for victory; but the fates were unpropitious, the people with whom his father and brother fought were successful; the son was taken prisoner, and adjudged to die a traitor’s death, his own father and brother consenting.”
Elfric began to comprehend all.
“They put him on board an open boat, and sent him out to sea, at the mercy of winds and waves; but not alone; he had married amongst the people who had adopted him, and his boy would not forsake his sire, for he had one boy—the mother was dead. This boy besought the hard-hearted executioners of a tyrant’s will to let him share the fate of his sire, so earnestly, that at last they consented.”
“The boat, as it pleased fate, was driven by wind and tide on the shore of Denmark, and there the unhappy exile landed; but he had been wounded in the battle, and his subsequent exposure caused his early death; before he died he bequeathed one legacy, and only one, to his son—
“Vengeance.”
Elfric was pale as death, and trembled visibly.
“Then you are—”
“Elfric, I am your cousin, and the deadly foe of you and yours!”
“Then my poor father; but if you must find a victim seek it in me; spare him! oh, spare him!”