We had come to the town streets now, and they seemed empty. The light
was strong enough by this time, and there came a sound of shouting from
the place of the market cross, and then we heard the bray of war horns,
and Wulfhere quickened his pace, saying that the men were mustering, or
maybe on the march.
Then I longed to go with him, but that might not be. So I left him at
last, saying that I should surely join in the fight.
I had not gone six paces from him when he called me, and I could see
that he looked anxious.
"Master," he said, "this is going to be a doubtful fight as it seems to
me. Yon Danes know that the country is raised, but yet they have come
back, and they mean to fight. Now our levy is raw, and has no
discipline, and I doubt it will be as it was at Charnmouth. If that is
so, Bridgwater will be no safe place for the lady Alswythe. She must be
got hence with all speed."
"Shall you not return and hide with her?" I asked.
"That is as the master bids," said he, and then he added, looking at me
doubtfully, "I would you were not so bent on this fight."
Then was I torn two ways--by my longing to strike a blow for Wessex,
and by my love for my Alswythe and care for her safety. And I knew not
what to say.
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