were left, and Olaf's ship captains, so that with Sudbury folk and
our own people there was a merry gathering enough, and the little
church was over full when Ailwin and Oswin were ready at the altar.

After that was over, Olaf came forward and gave to the priests a
great chain of gold links, bidding them lay it on the altar for a
gift towards rebuilding the house of God.

"Only one thing do I ask you," he said, speaking in a hushed voice as
he stood there. "And that is that no week shall pass without remembrance
of those of my men who died for England on Leavenheath."

And Oswin said:

"It shall be so, King Olaf, for it has already become our custom
here. Now will we remember your name also."

* * * * * *

Ten years agone it is since Olaf sailed away from us and won Norway
from the hand of Cnut. Now and then come Norsemen to me from him
when they put into Colchester or Maldon, and ever do they bring
gifts for Hertha and Olaf and Eadmund and Uldra, the children that
are ours. For all things have gone well with us, and with all
England under the strong and wise rule of Cnut the king.

I stood beside him on Ashingdon hill when he came to see to the
building of the churches on the battlefield at the place of the
first fight, and at Ashingdon, and at Hockley where the flight
ended. And he dedicated that at Ashingdon to St. Andrew, in memory
of Eadmund his noble foe and brother king, for on the day of that
saint Streone slew him.

There Cnut the king stood and spoke to me:

"I build these churches, and their walls will decay in time, and
maybe men will forget who built them, but the deeds of Eadmund will
not be forgotten, for there are few men who have fought a losing
fight so sternly and steadfastly as did he. Nor shall men forget
you, Redwald, and those who fought and died here, and on the other
fields that are rich with their blood spilt for love of England.
None may say that their lives are wasted, for I see before us a new
brotherhood that will rise out of our long strife, because Dane and
Saxon and Anglian know each other for men."

So he said, and so it is, and our England is rising from the strife
into a mighty oneness that has never been hers before.

We went to London before long to see the great wedding that was
made for Godwine, my friend, and Gyda, the fair daughter of Ulf the
jarl, and niece of Cnut himself. There also were Relf and the lady
of Penhurst, and Eldred and Sexberga,