“But the jewel, my king? I grieve that I have lost it.”
“’Tis nought,” reassured the king. “A trifle like that can be replaced. And thou wouldst not, for thy life’s sake, give it of thine own free will. Loyalty and honor hast thou shown—two of the brightest virtues in friendship’s crown.”
Glowing with pleasure, Egwina hastened to greet Denewulf and Adiva, who were overjoyed at her return. A cottage had been built on Athelney for Alfred, and to this he now repaired with his family. Ethelfleda would not be separated from Egwina, so the gleemaiden also went with them, much to the sorrow of the swineherd and his wife, who made her promise to return to them for a part of each day.
The island had been well intrenched and numbers had flocked to it. So many were there that the scant resources of the place were soon exhausted, and so dire was the necessity of the king that he was forced to forage for provisions.
Now, too, did he begin a series of skirmishes; attacking the enemy without ceasing, wherever he found any parties or camps accessible to his attempts. Whether his object was achieved, or did he meet with repulsion, he retired with a celerity that baffled pursuit to his unknown asylum. The Northmen became terror-stricken at the ravages which this secret foe was making upon them, and finally came to believe, with the superstition of the age, that the attacks were of a supernatural character.
Gradually the king extended his assaults, harassing the Danes with hostility in a distant quarter as well as those near. By day and by night, at dawn, in the evening twilight, from woods and marshes, he was ever rushing on the Northmen with all the advantages of selection and surprise. But still the provisions grew less, and the king was sore put for supplies.
One day, while it was yet so cold that it was frozen, the king’s people had gone out to get provender, fish or fowl or whatsoever they should happen upon, while Alfred himself remained in the cottage. The king was discouraged. Despite the successful issue of his forays against the Norsemen, they still remained in such numbers that it seemed an impossible task to ever rid the land of them. At last he took from his bosom the little manual which he always carried with him, and began reading one of the Psalms of David for comfort.
A knock at the door brought Ethelfleda and Egwina from an adjoining room.
“Open, my daughter,” said the king.
“But it may not be one of thy followers,” said the girl, dubiously.