But the King laughed away their fears, and made them promise to abide where they were.
"If messengers come," he said, "receive the messages, and bid them go back and prepare, and within two weeks shall word come to them. Then, when once the word comes, they must hasten. They must move so swiftly that the grass bends not beneath their feet; for then will it be that we must strike a swift blow at the very heart of our foe."
"You feel that you must do this thing, O King?" asked Osric, and the King made answer that it must be done.
"By now will they have heard of the destruction of their fleet," he said, "and that of itself must needs make them come to some speedy decision; and what the decision is, I must find out."
So they had no more words to say, feeling that much was at stake; and Alfred, taking his harp, went away and set face boldly towards the camp of the Danes.
And when he got nigh, he struck his harp and began to sing, and he sang the song of the bear jarl, whose son was Beorn, and the vikings gathered round him, for they loved the gleeman's songs.
And Alfred noticed all that could be seen, and how the camp was far more badly kept than it should have been; for these Danes were so confident now, that they forgot their caution; and he sang again and again, and presently a messenger came from Guthrun, asking who it was that made music in the camp.
Then when the chief was told, he commanded that the gleeman be brought before him, and made to sing against his singers; and Alfred was taken to the hall where the holdas sat.
There was Guthrun, as hearty as ever, and there was Hungwar, and he looked fiercer and wilder than of yore; and Guthrun cried to the disguised King.
"How now, Saxon, dost value thy life so little, that thou dost come hither?"