Gwenoch stepped to Hereward’s side.
“None shall go!” shouted a dozen voices. “With Hereward we will live and die. Let him lead us to Lincoln, to Stafford, where he will. We can save England for ourselves without the help of Danes.”
“It is well for one at least of you, gentlemen, that you are in this pleasant mind,” quoth Ranald the monk.
“Well for all of us, thou valiant purveyor of beef and beer.”
“Well for one. For the first man that had turned to go, I would have brained him with this axe.”
“And now, gallant gentlemen,” said Hereward, “we must take new counsel, as our old has failed. Whither shall we go? For stay here, eating up the country, we must not do.”
“They say that Waltheof is in Lindsay, raising the landsfolk. Let us go and join him.”
“We can, at least, find what he means to do. There can be no better counsel. Let us march. Only we must keep clear of Lincoln as yet. I hear that Gilbert has a strong garrison there, and we are not strong enough yet to force it.”
So they rode north, and up the Roman road toward Lincoln, sending out spies as they went; and soon they had news of Waltheof,—news, too, that he was between them and Lincoln.
“Then the sooner we are with him, the better, for he will find himself in trouble ere long, if old Gilbert gets news of him. So run your best, footmen, for forward we must get.”