On the day before I rode to Odda, who had already drawn his men to the Petherton ridge above Bridgwater, and told him what the king’s word was.  Then I went on up the long side of the Quantocks, and spoke in the Maytime woods with Thora, telling her—­for she was a warrior’s daughter, and was worthy of a warrior’s love—­that I must be at the king’s side.  And so she bade me fight bravely, speaking many noble and loving words to me, until I must go.  Then I led her back to Osmund in his place among the rough huts within the wide circle of the camp ramparts, that now held but a few poor folk from the Parretside lands.

“King Alfred makes some new move,” I said to him, “and it is possible that we may not meet again.  I think that what is coming will end all the trouble between Saxon and Dane.”

He shook his head.

“Some day it will end,” he said, “but not in my time or yours—­not until the Danes have grown to know that England is their home, and that they are English by birth and right of time—­maybe not till Denmark has ceased to send forth the sons for whom she has no place in her own borders.”

Then I answered that perhaps he was right.  I did not see into things as far as he, and I was a stranger in the land.

“But this at last will give a strong overlord to England,” I said.

“Ay, for the time.  So long as a strong king rules, there will be less trouble indeed; but if Alfred’s sons are weak, it will begin afresh.  England will no longer bear two kings; and while there is a Saxon kingdom alongside a Danish, there cannot be lasting peace.”

Then I said: 

“What of yourself?  Shall you go back to Guthrum when this is over?”

“I cannot tell,” he answered.  “What my fate is I know not yet.  What mean you to do if all goes well for Alfred?  Shall you bide in England?”

We had walked apart now, and were looking over all the fair Quantock vale beneath us.  I think there is no fairer lookout in all England:  land and river and hills and sea, and beyond the sea the blue mountains of the Welsh coast—­ever changing and ever beautiful under sun and cloud and flying shadows.

“I have found the fairest land under the northern sun,” I said; “and I have found the best king, as I think.  I shall bide here.  One other thing I have found of which I hardly dare to think, so many are the chances of wartime.  Yet, jarl, but for them I should not have met with Thora, though in my heart I believe that I should not have spoken to her yet.”

“I would not have had it otherwise,” he said, kindly taking my arm.  “I have seen what was coming long before Etheldreda spoke.  It has been good for Thora that she did so, whatever befalls.”

Then we spoke of my promised place with the king, as if his victory were certain.  Indeed, I believe that we both had no thought of its being otherwise.

“I do not know, however,” said Osmund, “if your taking a Danish wife will be well received.  It may be likely that Alfred will wish you to be bound to him by some tie of that nearness which shall be of his making.”