Havelok the Dane: A Legend of Old Grimsby and Lincoln

by Charles W. Whistler

“Who knows what is in the mind of our king? I do not, and you know enough of him by this time to be certain that one cannot guess. He may be all smiles and rejoicing that his dear niece has come back safely, or just the other way. He has been very careful how he has dealt with the Norfolk thanes of late, and what that means I do not know.”

Then he asked what had become of Griffin, and I told him. I do not think that he was surprised, for some word of the matter had reached here by the news that chapmen bring from all parts.

Now there was no more time for talk, for we came to the hall; and we went in, Arngeir leading, and the rest of us following two by two. The hall was pretty full of thanes and their men, and it was just as I had last seen it. Alsi sat alone on his high seat, and there was no man with him on the dais. I thought that he looked thinner and anxious.

Arngeir went up the hall at once, and stood before the king, and greeted him in the English way, which seemed strange to me after the two years of Danish customs; and then Alsi bade him tell his errand.

“I have come from Goldberga of East Anglia, and from Havelok the Dane, her husband, to say that she has returned to her land, and would ask that you would give her the throne that you have held for her since the day that her father made you her guardian. It has been said that she might ask you to give account of your management of the realm to her; but that she does not wish to do, being sure that all will be rightly done in the matter, and she only asks to be set in the place that was her father’s.”

So said Arngeir, plainly, and I could see that the thanes thought the words good.

And Alsi answered, “Has this matter been put before the Witan of the East Angles?”

I suppose that he thought to hear Arngeir say that there had been no time for so doing at present, but my brother was readier than I should have been.

“Doubtless it has,” he said, “for that was your own promise to Goldberga on her marriage.”

At that Alsi flushed, and his brows wrinkled. He had said nothing to the Witan at all, but had waited in hopes that he should hear no more of his niece, telling the tale that we had heard.