Eric of the Strong heart by Victor Rousseau

Eric of the Strong heart by Victor Rousseau

Author:Victor Rousseau
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-03-23T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER XVI.

Sweyn Leads the Anglians.

I FOLLOWED Editha, and Bjorn followed me, and for half an hour, as it seemed, we went on, with many twists and turns, until at last a glimmer of moonlight showed in front of us.

Then Editha turned and came back to me.

“Stoop low,” she said, “for now we leave the tunnel and pass through the earthen bank of the river.”

The smell of mold began to be perceptible; in another moment we were clambering through a muddy passage, then brushing aside a growth of weeds and rank grass; and suddenly we emerged into a marshy swamp beside the banks of a broad, gently flowing stream.

I looked up and saw the mighty citadel above me, and around us open country, with an occasional small cabin dotting the waste. We had come out on the other side of Rangarok.

Beneath us the city stretched away, and I could see the black line of the wall; but the region where we now were was un-walled, being evidently almost impassable.

As I stood there, stupefied at the transition from the banquet-hall, I heard a voice behind me. I turned quickly, and there stood Sweyn, smiling at me.

“All is prepared,” he said. “Had you lost to Harald, to-night Rangarok would have been stormed and you set free, or at least avenged. Now we can await our time, for outside of Rangarok no rood of ground remains to the oppressor.”

And briefly he acquainted me with the fact that the whole country had already risen against the Danes, that Harald’s power was gone, and that we were to take up our quarters in the Anglian camp, ten miles away, where the rebels’ standard had already been set up, and whither the countrymen were flocking by thousands.

We moved along the river-bank, treading what seemed a secret path among the morasses, for when I moved ever so little aside from the trail I found myself enmired immediately.

And now our path turned sharply away from the river, along a narrow valley between two ranges of hills, still impassable, except along the course that Sweyn showed us. Presently, looking back, I perceived the lights of Rangarok behind us, and knew that we had passed the city walls and were on our way to freedom.

Our road became firm ground, and we walked for mile after mile, until the capital was hidden behind the rolling hills through which we had come. Suddenly a voice challenged us, and out of the darkness sprang an archer, with arrow fitted to his bow-string.

Sweyn answered him, and he stood aside with a salute, to let us pass. A hundred yards farther we were challenged again.

And then, as we topped an elevation, the moonlight disclosed an open camp among the hills, packed with black goatskin tents.

We passed along a road between these, through crowds of Anglians, busy stringing bows, tempering pikes in fires, furbishing armor; through lines of tethered horses; through all the paraphernalia of an encamped army, until we reached an open space about a large marquee, that flew the red cross on white, with smaller tents about.



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