Ten Boys Who Lived on the Road from Long Ago to Now (Yesterday's Classics) by Andrews Jane

Author:Andrews, Jane [Andrews, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction
ISBN: 9781599150642
Publisher: Yesterday's Classics
Published: 2010-11-14T15:54:59.086000+00:00

"I trust my sword, I trust my steed,

But most I trust myself, at need,"

sang Ella laughingly, but he also gave a loving look of admiration at his young cousin, who was to be the head of the family by and by, and whose loyal companion he was destined to be.

Just at this instant, as if to test their courage, the blast of a horn rang out loud and clear from the forest.

"It is Grendel himself," whispered the swineherd.

"Nonsense!" cried the keen-eyed Wulf, "use your eyes, man, and see the earldorman's messenger already taking the path to the moot hill.

The moot hill was a low rounded hill just outside the village where the free mark-men or land-holders met once a month to hold their moot court and deal out justice to all men, and settle all affairs that needed not to go up to the great witangemot, or meeting of the wise men of the nation.

Within the circle of the moot court the boys could not enter, but they loved to seat themselves on rock or tree-trunk at the foot of the hill, and listen to the clash of arms by which the men gave their assent to any proposal of the earldormen, and gather from some old man too lame and weary to climb the hill, such tales and old songs as all boys in all countries and all times love to hear.

So Ella and Wulf left the swineherd to his beech-nuts and acorns, and tried another race to the foot of the moot hill.

They were just in time to see the earldorman's messenger welcomed by Erkennin, the stately grandfather of young Wulf, and they seated themselves on a mossy rock to wait for the end of the meeting.

Presently old Elric came slowly down the hill. His long white hair flowed over his shoulders, and his blue eyes looked brightly out from under shaggy eyebrows. Many a scar marked his rugged face and bare arms and hands, but he held his head proudly yet, though the spear sometimes trembled in his stiffening hands.

The seax—a short, hooked broadsword or dagger, from which some writers tell us the Saxons derived their name—hung from his girdle, and indeed he was a fine figure of an old warrior.

As he met the lads, a smile lighted his rugged face. He was fond, in his rough way, of the young Wolf's cub and his friend, and was quite willing to give them a bit of wisdom now and then from his eighty-years store of it.

"It is a good day for news," he said. "And for such news as comes to-day, most truly it is good."

"Why so, father Elric?" asked young Wulf.

"It is the day of our father Woden, the mover (Wodensday, Wednesday). To-day we divide the land anew, that no man may become so attached to his fields that he will not be ready to go out to new conquests; for it is weak and unmanly to gain by sweat what you can win by blood."

"The

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