We had come to the town streets now, and they seemed empty. The light was strong enough by this time, and there came a sound of shouting from the place of the market cross, and then we heard the bray of war horns, and Wulfhere quickened his pace, saying that the men were mustering, or maybe on the march.
Then I longed to go with him, but that might not be. So I left him at last, saying that I should surely join in the fight.
I had not gone six paces from him when he called me, and I could see that he looked anxious.
"Master," he said, "this is going to be a doubtful fight as it seems to me. Yon Danes know that the country is raised, but yet they have come back, and they mean to fight. Now our levy is raw, and has no discipline, and I doubt it will be as it was at Charnmouth. If that is so, Bridgwater will be no safe place for the lady Alswythe. She must be got hence with all speed."
"Shall you not return and hide with her?" I asked.
"That is as the master bids," said he, and then he added, looking at me doubtfully, "I would you were not so bent on this fight."
Then was I torn two ways -- by my longing to strike a blow for Wessex, and by my love for my Alswythe and care for her safety. And I knew not what to say. Wulfhere understood my silence, and then decided for me.
"You have hearkened to me before, master, and now I will speak again. Get you to your place of last night on Combwich Hill, and there look on the fight; or, if it be nearer this, find such a place as you know. Then, if there is victory for us, all is well: but if not, you could not aid with your one strength to regain it. Then will Alswythe need you."
"I would fain fight," I said, still doubting.
"Aye, master; but already have you done well, and deserved well of the sheriff, and of all. He bade you fight not today -- let it be so. There is loyalty also in obedience, and ever must some bide with the things one holds dear."