Outside the door, on the high place, stood Erling alone, for the tables there had been cleared away. Only the throne of the king remained. And in the light from the council chamber I saw that the face of my comrade was white as death.
"Where is Ethelbert the king?" he said, almost wildly, and clutching my arm.
"In his chamber," I answered. "All is well. I saw him there not ten minutes ago."
"How can that be? It is not that time ago since he stood by me on the rampart, where I walked alone, and spoke to me."
"It was some one else like him," I said. "He is going to sleep."
But Erling stared beyond me, and grew yet paler. I saw the black rims grow round his eyes. Then his grip tightened on my arm, and he gasped:
"He stood before me, and that red line round his neck had drops like gems therefrom. He said, 'Now do I die and pass to rest. I would that you came after me.' And I said, 'Trouble not yourself, king, for the like of me.' And he smiled wondrously, and answered, 'Nay, but needs must I, for you are the only heathen man in this palace garth. I would that all were well with you as with me.' Then he was gone, and there was only a brightness, and betimes that faded. Then I came hither. There is ill which has befallen the king."
"Impossible," I said. And even as I said it into my mind flashed that strange, unaccounted for trampling, and I went back, with Erling after me, unbidden. The six thanes who waited in the council chamber stared at me, but I did not heed them. Across to the king's door I went, and passed in. Selred and the old thane were talking quietly under their breath, and I had but been gone three minutes.
"Back again, Wilfrid? Eh, what is amiss?" said Sighard, starting as he set eyes on Erling.
"Has the king called you?" I asked hastily.