Harek was coming with me; but Alfred asked me to spare him for this time.

“I have to learn somewhat from the scald,” he said.

“Wizardry, my king?” I asked, laughing, for that was ever a jest at the scald’s expense after it was known how we found out that Alfred was at Denewulf’s house.

“Nay, but song,” he answered.  “Now I see not why I should not tell you who put the thought into my mind; but I am going, as you did, to spy out the Danish camp.  And I will go as a gleeman, and be welcome enough as a Saxon who has enough love of Danes to learn some northern sagas for them!”

“My king,” I cried, “this is too perilous altogether.”

He looked quaintly at me.

“Go to, cousin; are you to have all the glory?  If you went, why not I?  Maybe I too may find a chance of helping some fair maiden on the way back.”

Then I prayed him to do nothing rash, for that he was the one hope of England.

“And maybe the one man in England who can do any good by going, therefore,” he answered.  “And neither you nor I would ask any man to do for us what we durst not do ourselves.”

“You will be known, my king,” I said.

Whereon he held out his hands, which were hard and horny now with hard work, and he laughed as he did so.

“Look at those,” he said, “and at my unkempt hair and beard!  Verily I may be like Alfred the king in some ways, but not in these.  They will pass me anywhere.”

So I could not dissuade him, and ever as I tried to do so he waxed more cheerful, and made sport of me, throwing my own doings in my teeth, and laughing about Thora.  So I was fain to get away from his presence, lest I should grow angry at last.  And when I was going he said: 

“Have no fear, cousin; I will not go unless I am well prepared.”

So I went, and next day was back in Athelney, riding hard; for Hubba’s ships had been sighted from the Quantocks, and they were heading for the Parret.  What I looked for and feared was coming.

Then Alfred sent messengers to Odda, who had come to Taunton two days before this.  And he gathered every man from the fen, and we went to Bridgwater, leaving our little force there, and so rode on the way to Combwich, thinking to see the sails of the ships in Bridgwater Bay.  But a shift of wind had come, and they were yet over on the Welsh coast, waiting for the tide to enable them to come down on us.

By that time a fire burned on the highest spur of the Quantocks to tell us that Odda was there, and at once another was lit on the Combwich fort to bring him to us, for it seemed certain that here we must fight the first battle of Alfred’s great struggle.

“Here you must meet this newcomer and drive him away, if it can be done, or if not, hinder him from coming further; or if that is impossible, do your best.  I would have you remember that defeat here is not loss of all hope, for beyond Selwood lies our real gathering.  But victory, even if dearly bought, will almost win the day for us.”