"The only man likely to be so is Odda," the king answered. "You must settle that with him. It is the place that he must have held that you are taking. No man in all England can be jealous of a viking whose business is with ships. But Odda put this into my mind at first, and then Godred found out that he was right."
"Lord king," said I, "had I known who you were at that time, I should have spoken no differently. We Northmen are free in speech as in action."
"So says Odda," replied Alfred, smiling. "He has piteous tales of one Thord, whom you sent to teach him things, and the way in which he was made to learn."
"Nevertheless," said Odda, "I will not have Thord blamed, for it is in my mind that we should have learned in no other way so quickly."
Again the bishop signed to the king, and Alfred became grave.
"Here is one thing that our good Sigehelm minds me of. It seems that you are a heathen."
"Why, no, if that means one who hates Christians," I said. "Certainly I do not do that, having no cause to do so. Those whom I know are yourself, and Neot, and Odda, and one or two more only."
"That is not it," said the king. "What we call a heathen is one who worships the old gods--the Asir."
"Certainly I do that--ill enough."
"Then," said Alfred, while Odda shifted in his seat, seeming anxious as to how I should take this, "it is our rule that before a heathen man can serve with us, he shall at least be ready to learn our faith, and also must be signed with the cross, in token that he hates it not [{viii}]."