“They have suffered enough.”

“Nay, only in buildings, which they will restore.  I will pursue them with unrelenting vengeance, with the death feud, till I have destroyed the accursed race utterly.”

“Father!”

“If you would save them,” said Anlaf, who saw he had made an impression, “renounce your Christianity, and I will forget Aescendune.”

Here he left the tent.

The days which followed were, it may be imagined, very uncomfortable ones for Alfgar; but he was not destitute of occupation.  It was his father’s wish that he should join the youth of the camp in athletic and warlike exercises.  This he had no objection to do, and he spent nearly his whole time in practising the use of battle-axe, of bow, of spear, of sword, and shield, or in managing the war horse, for the Danes had acquired cavalry tactics on stolen horses.

Naturally quick, both of eye and hand, he learned all these things easily, and excited the admiration and envy of his companions.  They became useful in time.

In this manner nearly a month passed away, when an incident occurred which claims our attention.

Strolling on the earthworks which defended the camp, near the royal quarters, Alfgar came unexpectedly upon no less a person than the king himself, in close conversation with a stranger.

There was something in the form and manner of this stranger which even in the brief moment conveyed recognition to the mind of our hero; and a second glance, which was all he dared to cast, as he withdrew from the spot, revealed to him the face of a traitor.

It was Edric Streorn.

A few hours later the chieftains were all summoned to a council in the king’s tent, and when, after a short session, they came forth, the general order was given to break up the encampment, and move towards the southwest for the winter, for all the resources of the country around were exhausted.

The work was a laborious one.  From the dawn of day, horses, heavily laden, left the camp, loaded with the accumulated spoil of the year.  Anlaf himself was very busy, and it was with some real alarm that Alfgar asked him what would happen did the English suddenly appear.

“No fear of them, boy.  We have received certain intelligence that their army is disbanded for want of provisions.  They will not meet till the spring unless we rout them up.”

Alfgar knew well whence the “certain intelligence” came.

Destroying and plundering, the mighty host moved on its way, crossing into Hampshire, and doing, as the chronicle says, “their old wont.”  Of them it might be said in the words of the prophet: 

“Like Eden the land at morn they find;
But they leave it a desolate waste behind.”

Whenever they found a tract of country as yet unexhausted, there they settled until they had exhausted it.  The wretched inhabitants, who had fled at their approach, perished with hunger, unless they had strength to crawl to the far distance, where as yet bread might be found.