I wondered, but I dared not refuse. So I said:
"How shall fare King Olaf?"
"For him a kingdom, and more than a kingdom. For him fame, and better than fame. For him a name that shall never die."
"That is a wondrous weird," I said. "Tell me now of Eadmund Atheling;" for some strange power that the old woman had seemed to draw me to ask of her what I would most know.
"For Eadmund of Wessex? For him the shadow of Edric Streone over all his brave life."
"What then of Cnut, the Dane King?"
"Honour and peace, and the goodwill of all men."
"Not mine," I said.
"Yours also, Redwald--for England's sake and his own."
But I could not believe her at that time.