“And thou didst not intend to cut off her hands?” cried Egwina, relieved.
“Am I not a Christian? Do Christians treat others so?” demanded the youth. “Come, let us to the Saxons, for the battle is ended.”
HE RAISED THE SEAX AND THE BLOW FELL.
It was true. Elated by their triumph, the Saxons pursued the flying Danes, and great was the slaughter. Great also was the booty they obtained from the camp, and, among other things, the magical banner of Hubba, under which the chief lay dead.
“Now,” said the youth to Egwina, “the slaughter is done. Great will be the joy of Alfred when he hears of this day’s prowess. A bode am I to thee from the king. Mickle and sore doth he repent having let thee go from his sight as bode for him to his family. He bids me, with others, to accompany thee on thy journey, and bring thee back in safety to him.”
“Oh, hast thou seen him?” cried Egwina. “Heavy was my heart that I could not warn him of Hakon’s intended search. Heavy did it lie in my breast when I knew that Hubba was to come from the west to overrun the land. I feared that the king’s hopes were vain.”
“That was the reason, maiden, that I left thee in the house of Hakon the jarl,” said Ethelred. “Niddering did it seem to leave thee, a girl, in the hands of the foe, unwitting what might befall thee. But in the king lieth all our hopes. ’Twere better that thou shouldst perish than that the king be not warned.”
“Thou didst right,” declared the girl, warmly. “What am I to be thought of in comparison with the king? Better, oh, better a thousand such as I should perish than Alfred.”
“Thou art a true Saxon, and so I deemed thee,” cried the youth. “Would that thegn and coerl were filled with thy spirit, and the Dane would no longer uprear his raven standard in the land. But to tell thee all: Hakon went forth with a goodly company. Alfred, who had been joined by numbers of the Saxons, sallied forth, took the jarl by surprise, and the bones of him and all his company lie whitening on the field.”