bba rode
with them, and came to bid me farewell. But I could not speak to
him if I would, so he went away sadly. And as in a dream I heard
him speak of care for me to the widow and her two sons to whom the
farm belonged, and whom his men had taken unawares, so that they
had not time to fly.

Presently came the best leech from Ingvar's host and tended me
carefully; and I needed it, for besides the spear wound, my right
thigh was broken, by the trampling of the horse, as was most
likely.

Thereafter I lay for many weeks, as they told me presently, sick
and nigh to death; but being young and strong and no high liver at
any time, I came through the danger well enough, and began to mend
slowly. Yet my sickness, when I could begin to think, was more of
mind than body, and that kept me back. For long did it lie heavily
on my mind that I should have died with the king, and it was that
sorrow and blame of myself that went sorely against me. But after a
time the love of life came back to me again, and I began to see
things as they really were, untouched by a sick man's fancies. And
then the words of the good Prior of Bosham helped me, teaching me
that my life was surely spared for somewhat.

These good folk of the farm tended me most kindly, for they knew me
by sight as a close friend of both king and bishop, and for their
sakes were glad to do all they might for me. But I pined for the
touch of that one who had tended me when I was wounded before,
Osritha, whom I had learnt to love as she did so.

Sometimes I would think that between her and me had now risen up a
barrier stronger than the sea that was washing our shores alike,
because that of Ingvar's sister I might not think aught any longer.
And then I would set before me how that of these cruel doings nor
she nor Halfden had any part, hating them rather, and so would
comfort myself. Long are the thoughts that come to a sick man.

Now it was not till February that I might take much heed of
anything, but then I learnt that the Danes had wintered in
Thetford, and that the land was in peace. The war had passed on to
the Wessex borders and then had slackened, as winter came earnest,
and now the north and south folk, Dane and Angle, were foes no
longer openly. But Ingvar and Hubba were at Nottingham, waiting to
fall on Wessex, leaving only strong garrisons in our towns.

Then one of the dame's sons would go to London for me, there to
seek Ingild and tell him of my hap, for