Then did Alfred speak with Guthrun and ask him whether he would yield; and Guthrun said nay, but that he would go back to his camp and make the best stand that he might.
And Edgiva the Beautiful was set free; and she thanked Guthrun for his kindness, and went back with Wulnoth and the King; while the vikings took up the body of Hungwar and buried it nigh that place, and raised a mound over it, and sang his death-song with dark and gloomy hearts.
Now, back in his camp, Guthrun thought dark thoughts, for his heart was heavy, and he saw not what to do. And the Saxon King placed men all round, so that none might come in and none might go out; and so for a fortnight did things stand, and there was no food amongst the Danes, and they tasted of the hunger which they had so often made others endure.
Each day did the Saxon King send and ask them whether they would yield to him, and each day they sent back an answer that they would not. But Alfred made no attempt to attack them, for he knew that hunger must do its work in the end.
And at the end of that fortnight Guthrun called a great meeting of all his warriors, and asked them what should be done—
"We wait in vain for aid," he said, "and this Alfred grows in power each day. Men have wearied of our cruelty and hate us for our deeds; and methinks sometimes that I hate myself for having taken part in some things that have gone. Now, what can we do? We can stay till hunger slays us—but that is not a warrior's death."
"We can go forth sword in hand and die like heroes," said one holda; and the others nodded.
"That is a hero death," Guthrun said, "but it is death, and life is sweet."
"We may not go back to the Northland with this shame tale," said another. "Landless and nameless should we then be, and all men would scoff at us."
"This England is a fair land, and plenteous," said Guthrun, "and here it would be good to stay."