Now, not long after this the King sent to call Wulnoth to his side, and he spake to him and said—
"Now, Wulnoth, my faithful friend, I have a task for thee." And Wulnoth said gleefully—
"That is good hearing, King, for a man grows rusty quickly if he be not at work."
"Little fear of Wulnoth growing rusty," laughed the King, "for he is forever anxious to be doing. But listen, friend. This is the burden of it. Thou knowest that in Northumbria there have ever been troubles, for the people there quarrel amongst themselves, Northumbrians and Danes together. Now of late, Halfdane—ah! thou knowest him?"
"Right well, King," answered Wulnoth grimly. "Well, what of him?"
"This Halfdane gained all power in Northumbria, and he and his barbarians ruled as with rods of iron. Now tidings have come that Halfdane is dead."
"Dead!" cried Wulnoth. "So much the worse! I thought perchance that it was to slay him thou wouldst have me go."
"What a warrior art thou, Wulnoth! thou wouldst go against a host and laugh at it! Nay, Halfdane is dead—slain by one of his own holdas in a drunken brawl. Now the people of Northumbria are divided and have no leader. The Danes have none they can place at their head without endless quarrels following, and the Northumbrians have no king either. Now, this is my desire, that thou speed north to Bishop Eadred, and urge him to seek for a chieftain to be their king—one who will be of the Christian faith, and who will be true to me so that I have no cause to fear war in the north.
"Mercia has acknowledged me, and the Welsh are content that I should be their champion against the Danes, from whom they have suffered much. Cantua has no power now, and East Anglia is held by Guthrun for me. London welcomes me, and if the North be but friendly, then all England will be as one, and we can bend all our thoughts towards resisting any fresh attacks from the Danes—for more are certain to come ere long."