“What know you of our faith, my son?” said the monk in his gentle voice.

Now of his own accord Raud faced to the eastward, and clasping his hands before him, spoke the words of the Creed, slowly and haltingly maybe, but with knowledge thereof, and all that little company, standing hushed until he ended, answered “Amen” with one voice.

Then again, untaught by us he turned to the west, where the sun was even now sinking, and lifting his right hand very solemnly he put away from him the false gods of his forefathers, and the golden sunlight made his face very glorious, as I thought.

“It is well, my son,” said the old monk.

So he was baptized, and I gave him the new name of Cyneward {xxii}, for the memory of Eadmund the King and what he did for him in saving him from torture as best he might.  And surely he was the first fruit of the martyrdom of him whose head he had borne.

Then when all was done he took up his burden again, softly and reverently, saying: 

“Life I took, and life has been given me.  This is not the old way of life for life, but it is better.”

So he gave back the head to the monks, and they, wondering at him, but greatly rejoicing, took it, and stood awhile pondering where we might safely bestow it.

Then came one of the villagers, telling of a stone-walled chamber that had been a well in days long gone by, hard by the church porch.  That we found after some labour, moving much ruin from over it, and therein we placed the bones and head of our king, covering it again until better days should come.  And I, thinking of my riches in the hands of Ingild, promised that when it might be done I would see to raising the church afresh, to be over the ashes of the king.

So our little company parted, and Cyneward, who had been Raud, and I went back with the elder monk and the farm folk to our place, going slowly in the warm twilight, with our hearts at rest, and full of the wonders we had seen that day.

Only one thing would the monk and I ask Cyneward, for we wondered how he had learned our faith so well.  And that he answered gladly.

“Ever as Wulfric and I escaped from the vengeance of Ingvar towards Hedeby I wondered that one should be strong enough to defy the Asir and their godar for the sake of the new faith.  So I sat in the church of Ansgar among the other heathen and heard somewhat.  And again in London of late, where Guthrum will have no man harmed for his religion, I have listened and learnt more.  So when I needed them, the words were ready.  Now, therefore, both in life and death, Wulfric, my master, I thank you.”

But I was silent, knowing how much greater a part in this I might have had.  For I thought that, but for the need of proving my faith or denying it, I should have surely been as a heathen among heathen in those days in Jutland.  Yet Beorn asked me to pray for him, and that I had done, and it had kept me mindful when I had else forgotten.