g boded ill to all of
us.

So I rode on quickly down the hill towards the river. I knew not
how near the Danes might be, but I thought little of them, until
suddenly through the dusk I saw a red point of fire flicker and
broaden out into flame on a hilltop eastward, where I knew a beacon
fire was piled against need. And then from every point along the
Stour valley beacon after beacon flashed out in answer, until all
the countryside was full of them; and I hurried on more swiftly
than before.

Our hall stood on the hill crest above church and village, beyond
the reach of creeping river mist and sudden floods, and I rode down
the track that crosses the lower road and so comes to the ford
below Osgod's place on the Essex side of the river. And when I came
to the crossing my horse pricked his ears and snorted, so that I
knew there were horsemen about, and I reined up and waited in the
lane.

I could hear the quick hoofbeats of two steeds, and all the air was
full of the sound of alarm bells, for the evening was very still.

Then up the road from eastward rode two men at an easy gallop, and
my horse's manner told me that a stable mate of his was coming, so
I feared no longer but went into the main road to meet them.

"What news?" I cried, and they halted.

"It is the young master," said one, and I knew the voice of Edred,
our housecarle. And when he was close to me I could see that he was
in almost as evil plight as had been Grinkel his comrade. The other
man I knew not, but he bore a headless spear shaft in his hand, and
Edred's shield had a great gash across it.

"Master, has Grinkel come?" Edred asked me.

"Aye, and is dead. He bade us fly, and could say no more. What of
my father?"

The men looked at one another for a moment, and then Edred said
very sadly:

"Woe is me that I must be the bearer of heavy tidings to you and
the lady your mother. But what is true is true and must be told.
Never has such a battle been fought in East Anglia, and the fortune
of war has gone against us."

The fear that I had read in my mother's eyes fell cold on me at
those words-and I asked again, longing and fearing to know the
worst:

"What of the thane, my father?"

"Master, he fell with the first," Edred answered with a breaking of
his voice. "Nor might we bring him from the place where he fell.
For the Danes swept us from the field at the last like dead leaves
in the wind, and there was nought left us but to fly. Two l