"Do you fight the Danes?"
The question was asked with terrible intensity, and the men looked at the girl as, supporting the dying woman, she glanced up—
"Ay, maiden, that is our business in life; and we hope to do a little more of it, ere long."
"Then, Garth, go you with them. Go," and the girl turned to the young man. "There is nothing for you to do here. I and others will bury these poor bodies; you, a man, need not tarry for that. Go, and let each day see a Dane slain in memory of this work. Revenge is sacred now. Go, brother."
"But you!" cried the young man to his sister. "Besides, these warriors may not care for a youth to be of their number."
"By Thor, that is wrong, lad. We will take all the strong arms we can secure, and then we could do with more. And if this maiden can care for herself for the time, then we will take you. 'T is the work every honest Saxon should be doing now."
"I can take care of myself; go you, Garth," and she looked at the lad again.
Then did the young man come near to Wulnoth, and he said in low tones—
"Stranger, who hast helped us, and slain our foes, and who art going to fight the Danes, I also have made up my mind to do that, and there are others of like mind, only we lack leaders. Now, what would you say to a hundred youths who can each shoot, and hit the clout four times out of five?"
"What would I say!" cried Wulnoth heartily, "I would say that they were worth their weight in gold at this time. Boy, there is a King who needs to have his crown placed firmly upon his head once more, and thy hundred youths with their bows, might have much to do with settling it there."