So he told all his tale, even to the slaying of the berserk, and things like that.  And as he told of the breaking of the ring, and our stand inside of it, Alfred the Atheling wrote fast, and presently he bade Wulfhere cease, and going to a corner took down a harp, while his father smiled on him, and tuning it, broke out into a wondrous war song that made our hearts beat fast, for we seemed to feel that it was full of the very shout and ring of battle inside our circle of foes, and we were as men who looked on and saw our own deeds over again, only made more glorious by the hand of the poet and the voice of the singer.

So that when he ended the king’s eyes flashed, and Ceorle’s face was red and good to look at with a war light on it, and Wislac shouted, as I had nearly done.

But at that sound, strange in the king’s presence, we all started, and Wislac seemed abashed.

“Truly, Lord King,” he said humbly, “I could not help it.”

“Almost had I done as you did,” said the kindly king.  “Alfred must bear the blame.  Now shall you tell your story.”

But Wislac said he had nought to add to Wulfhere’s tale, save that Aldhelm here had saved him at his own cost, and that he had had, moreover, as much fighting as he was like ever to want.

But even from him Alfred gained many things about the fighting, and from Aldhelm also, and these he wrote down.

Thus we all told our tales, and they were long in the telling, so that when Aldhelm had finished, the king rose up, blaming Alfred gently for the long sitting, saying, however, that he had feared somewhat of the sort, but that doubtless the thanes were more wearied than either of the other three who had listened.

“Now,” he said, “well have you four thanes deserved of me and of all, and you shall not say that the king is ungrateful.  And I think that each of you has said less of your own selves than might be said, or, indeed, than is said in these letters.  Now have Ceorle and I and my council spoken of this matter, and we have thought of rewards fitting for the shield wall of the standard.”

Then would we thank the king; but he bade us wait for a little, putting his hand on those great parchments with the seals.  One of these he took and gave to Aldhelm.

“This is to your father, confirming his rights of the land he holds of me to him and his heirs for ever, by reason of your good service.  Yet is there a little blame to you from the way in which you found a foremost place, though much praise for the holding thereof and in your manner of ending that quarrel.”

So Aldhelm took the deed and kissed the king’s hand in token of homage, going to his place very glad, for this was what his father desired most of all.

Then the king beckoned Wislac and gave him also a deed like Aldhelm’s, granting him the lordship of the manor of Goring on the Thames, and that was a good reward to the stout Mercian, who thanked the king, saying that he wotted not how his majesty knew what he would have most wished.  Whereupon the king laughed, saying that kings knew more than men gave them credit for, and so Wislac did homage, and sat down.