“What now?” I asked.

“I must join my master, telling him what I have done, and that the lady is safe.  So shall I march with the rest most likely.  What shall I say of your part in this?”

“Nought,” I answered.

“Maybe that is best—­just now,” he agreed.

We had come to the town streets now, and they seemed empty.  The light was strong enough by this time, and there came a sound of shouting from the place of the market cross, and then we heard the bray of war horns, and Wulfhere quickened his pace, saying that the men were mustering, or maybe on the march.

Then I longed to go with him, but that might not be.  So I left him at last, saying that I should surely join in the fight.

I had not gone six paces from him when he called me, and I could see that he looked anxious.

“Master,” he said, “this is going to be a doubtful fight as it seems to me.  Yon Danes know that the country is raised, but yet they have come back, and they mean to fight.  Now our levy is raw, and has no discipline, and I doubt it will be as it was at Charnmouth.  If that is so, Bridgwater will be no safe place for the lady Alswythe.  She must be got hence with all speed.”

“Shall you not return and hide with her?” I asked.

“That is as the master bids,” said he, and then he added, looking at me doubtfully, “I would you were not so bent on this fight.”

Then was I torn two ways—­by my longing to strike a blow for Wessex, and by my love for my Alswythe and care for her safety.  And I knew not what to say.  Wulfhere understood my silence, and then decided for me.

“You have hearkened to me before, master, and now I will speak again.  Get you to your place of last night on Combwich Hill, and there look on the fight; or, if it be nearer this, find such a place as you know.  Then, if there is victory for us, all is well:  but if not, you could not aid with your one strength to regain it.  Then will Alswythe need you.”

“I would fain fight,” I said, still doubting.

“Aye, master; but already have you done well, and deserved well of the sheriff, and of all.  He bade you fight not today—­let it be so.  There is loyalty also in obedience, and ever must some bide with the things one holds dear.”

“I will do as you say,” said I shortly, and so I turned and went.

He stood and looked after me for a little, and then he too hurried away towards the cross.  Then I skirted round the town, and waited at that place where I had met with the old woman, until I saw the van of our forces marching down the road towards Cannington.  These I kept up with by hurrying from point to point alongside the road, as best I might.

They were a gallant show to look on, gay with banners and bright armour.  Yet I had heard of the ways of armies, and thought to see them marching in close order and in silence.  But they were in a long line with many gaps, and here and there the mounted thanes rode to and fro, seemingly trying to make them close up.  And they sang and shouted as they went.