"No, I have not, lord king," I answered; "but I can grave runes that will, as I think, keep away such pain if you bear them on you. Thord, whom you know, taught me them. Maybe it would be better for him to grave them, for runes wrongly written are worse than none, and these are very powerful."
"That is a kindly thought, cousin," Alfred answered; "but I am sure that no runes will avail when the prayers of my people, from holy Neot to the little village children, do not. And I fear that even would they heal me, I must sooner bear the pain than seek to magic spells."
"Nay, but try them, King Alfred," I said; "there is no ill magic in them."
Now he saw that I was in earnest, and put me by very kindly.
"I must ask Sigehelm, our bishop here, who is my best leech next to Neot.
"What say you, father?"
"Even as you have said, my king."
"Maybe, bishop," said I, "you have never tried the might of runes?"
Whereat the good man held up his hands in horror, making no answer, and I laughed a little at him.
"Well, then," said the king, "we will ask Neot, for mostly he seems to say exactly what I do not."