Then came Gunnhild. She was old, and I feared her, for men said that she was a witch. But she had been in the house of Osgod the Thane since he himself was a child, and Hertha loved her, and that was enough for me. Nor had I any reason to think that the dame had any but friendly feelings towards myself, though her bright eyes and tall figure, and most of all what was said of her, feared me, as I say. Now she came towards me swiftly, and did not wait for me to speak first.
"What will you at this hour, Redwald?" she said.
"Nought but pressing need bade me come thus," I answered. "The levy is broken, and the Danes are on the way to Colchester. My mother flies to London, and you and Hertha must do likewise."
"So your father and hers are slain," she said, looking fixedly at me, and standing very still.
"How know you that?" I asked sharply, for I had told the steward nothing.
"By your face, Redwald," she said; "you were but a boy two days agone, now you have a man's work on your hands, and you will do it. Who bade you ride here?"
"No one," I said, wondering, "needs must that I should come."
"That is as I thought," she said; "but we cannot fly."
"Why not?"
"Because the sickness that your mother feared is on Hertha, and she cannot go."