When Wulnoth opened his eyes again he was in a cool cave, through the entrance of which he could see the green glades of the forest, and there before him sat Wyborga the Wise, while Princess Edgiva played near by with a little wild fawn.
He raised himself on his elbow and glanced around in wonder, hardly able to remember anything of what had gone beside; and Wyborga rose and brought him a cooling drink, saying gently—
"So thou art better, Wulnoth! For many days has thy spirit hovered between life and death, but thou hast turned back, as I knew thou wouldst—for thy work is before thee, and thou must help to do great things."
"What things must I do, O mother?" he asked. And Wyborga took up her favorite symbol again—a little wooden cross—and planted it in the earth.
"So must thou help to plant this in another land, Wulnoth," she said. And he shook his head somewhat impatiently.
"Oh, good mother, I am weary of symbols and dark sayings. Tell me in plain words, for as for thy cross, I can make nothing of it."
"Not yet, Wulnoth. The time is not yet," she said. "But now thou must rest and grow strong, for there is much to do."
"And how went the fight after I was struck down?" he asked. "Methinks there was little fighting left to do."
"All too little," she answered. "Of all in Lethra, the Danes left not one alive saving only a few who escaped to the woods. Thy father and mother, and the King and Queen, and Hald and all the mighty ones have perished, and Lethra is ruin and ashes and desolation to-day. Such is the work of Hungwar and Hubba."