Wulnoth the Wanderer: A Story of King Alfred of England

by Herbert Inman

Still, it was the main force that was now advancing into Wessex, and many were the chiefs of fame accompanying it.

The Saxon force was nothing like as numerous, but so great was the charm of Alfred that all there held together, forgetting their private quarrels and seeking only each to aid the great business of making the land free once more.

The King had seen Wulnoth and had greeted him well, and though he did look askance at the nameless ones, he was glad of their presence, and he said with a laugh that since Wulnoth had brought them, Wulnoth must be responsible for them; and so, while their own captain led them, Wulnoth was their commander; and because he himself was nameless and landless, the robbers greeted him well and obeyed his wishes, as otherwise they would not have done.

And they marched past the dreaded Welandes Smithan, and the Atheling himself pointed out the spot to Wulnoth and showed him the great flat stone on which the silver penny must be laid, and he said that none could tell by what power the shoeing was done, but that the body of the Wise Wieland lay at rest beneath those stones.

And other strange piles of stones they found on their march, each of which had some dreadful legend of ghost or elfin power attached to it, but which, in these days, we know to be only the tombs of a strange people long since past away. And so, at last, they came to a place called Ashdune, a wide sweeping plain, with but one single tree in it, and that tree a great straggling thorn bush, growing nigh the centre. And there, on the verge of the plain, they encamped for the night, and on the opposite side they could see the watch fires of the invaders, and count their banners waving to the wind.

Wild were the shouts from the Danish camp that night, for the holdas drank deeply, as was their custom, and they called out the names of their dead heroes, and the songs were sung in their honor by the scalds as the warriors drank to the war game and the sword song, and vowed that with the rising of the sun they would make an end of the men of Wessex, and lay the land low in fire.

Such was the way in which Wulnoth had been wont to spend the night before the battle, but in the camp of the Saxons it was not so. Sparingly the soldiers drank, and the Atheling took nothing but water; and while watch was kept the Abbot Hugoline came amongst the ranks and prayed, and the men knelt and crossed their hands upon their breasts, and the monks sang to Him Whom they called "The Lord God, great and terrible, and mighty in battle"; and that made Wulnoth the more perplexed, for he saw not how the gentle Lord Christ could be terrible in battle.

And then did he see Bishop Eadred all girt in armor, and with a mighty mace in his hand, and thereat he wondered more than ever, for he had not thought to see a priest armed to fight like a warrior.

But the Bishop laughed and said, "Who should fight for the Church but those who are her most loving servants? Who should fight for the sheep against the ravening wolves but those who are set over the flock as shepherds?" And Wulnoth said to himself that this Bishop was a man, and that he saw the service of the White Christ did not make a man become a nithing.