re he answered me.

"I fear not, for the poor king thanked me, smiling at me. Let me go
with you."

So that day the dame sent messages by her son to some who had come
back to their places, and in the evening when he came home, there
were with him two of Bishop Humbert's monks, dressed like churls,
for they dared not wear their habits. These two and some others
would gladly come with me on my search.

Next day, therefore, they set me on a pony that was quiet, and
slowly we went towards Hoxne, coming thither in the afternoon
early, seeing no Danes anywhere, while many of our folk were back
and at work in the fields.

Then I asked Raud if these poor people were safe now.

"Surely, master," he said, for so he would call me, having heard
the farm people name me thus. "There is none so great difference
between you and us, and we Danes love to be at peace if we may. I
think there will be no more trouble here. And, anyway, we are too
wise to hinder a harvesting of that we may eat."

So too thought I, and my heart was less sad after that ride, though
there was not one place left unburnt of all that we saw.

When we came to Hoxne I told the two monks where we had bestowed
the king's body, bidding them look to see if it was not disturbed.
And they said that his bones were safely there.

Now we must seek for the head of the king, and in that Rand could
not help us, for one had ridden away with it while he was taken up
with me and my plight.

So we went towards that place where the dog had taken us, and
searched long, until I, being weak, must get from off the pony and
rest. I would ride back to the place where the king had been slain
and sit there awhile; but first, knowing that Vig remembered things
well, I sent him from me, bidding him search also, hoping that he
would not forget his last quest in this place. Yet what we most
feared was that the forest beasts had made our search vain.

There were many men from the village with us now, for they had
followed the two monks, and they spread about over the wood far and
wide, searching, while I sat at the foot of the oak tree to which
the king had been bound, leaning my arms and head against the trunk
that had been stained with his blood, and thinking and praying, as
well I might in that sacred place.

I moved my hand, and felt something sticking from the hard bark and
looked to see what it was. It was an arrowhead, such a rough iron
spike as men will use when they must