With glory, might, and peace?
‘From Wessex on the Mighty Isle,
And I rule upon my knees.’ ”
The song seemed very strange to Daniel and Freya, but the tune was happy and light, and the knights’ easy laughter and joy at the verses put them more at ease.
“What’s an ‘??eling’?” Freya asked, charmed by the song.
“Why, a young noble person, like yourself,” answered Swi?gar with a chuckle. “You are both ??elingas!”
“Oh,” said Freya. And then, “Who are you two?”
“Forgive me,” said the brown-bearded knight, picking up his axe and shield. He knelt creakily in front of Daniel and Freya. “I am Ecgbryt.”
“Etch-brut?” echoed Daniel.
“Aye, Ecgbryt-the name given to me by our warband’s heafod. It means ‘shining edge.’ I am called that for the reason that in battle, it is all that friend or foe will see of me-the blade of my weapon, twinkling in the battle-sun as it rises and falls upon the heads of my enemy.” He whacked the side of his axe against the steel rim of his shield, making a loud crack!
“And my name,” said the other knight, kneeling also, “is Swi?gar.” He whacked his lance against his shield. “It means ‘strong spear.’ My battle-brother and I have seen more fighting than many a war-chief will see in a life, even were he to live it many times over.” He raised his chin proudly and jerked it towards his weapon. “Yet the spear I hold has never been broken, nor lost to an enemy. I found this wooden shaft myself and shaped it with my two hands-it is my dearest possession.”
“Sooth,” agreed Ecgbryt. “It is no boast to tell that of all nobles alive in our age there were none better against a more bitter foe- it is simple truth. The evidence for those words is that we stand before you, for it is why we were chosen. Is it not so?”
“A plain fact,” confirmed Swi?gar with a nod. “Though we are cousins, they called us brothers-we are that much alike in war. Blood could not make us closer.”
“An aye to that!”
“H-how,” Daniel blurted, “how long have you been here?”
Swi?gar began stroking his beard. “Hmm. We were laid to sleep in the same year in which ?lfred the Geatolic died . . . which would be . . .”
“Ah, Blessed ?lfred,” Ecgbryt sighed, his eyes shifting focus. “England’s shepherd and dearling. He was the greatest king since Arthur, Bear of Britain. So wise was ?lfred, it was said that even the elves sought his council. And more than this, he brought all of the Anglecynn under one banner.”
“We fought with him against the North-men, the terrible Dane jarls from their lands of ice.” The knights leaned in eagerly, their earnest faces now close to Daniel’s and Freya’s. “Though on occasion defeated in the field, we were not defeated in spirit, and our spirits lent strength to our arms-”
“-and our hands fell the faster in battle because of it.”
Swi?gar stood up. “But to put a number to your question, I reckon we have been lying here more than five times two hundred years.”
“One thousand years?” Freya exclaimed. “But that’s impossible!”
“Not impossible,” Ecgbryt replied and stood up next to Swi?gar. “Just very uncommon. And difficult-especially in full battle dress and stretched on a cold stone.” He looked from Freya to Daniel. “It makes a body a mite stiff.”
“An aye to that.”
“What are you going to do now?” Freya asked.
“Well, that depends on you, young ??elingas,” Swi?gar answered. “What are you to do now?”
Freya and Daniel looked at each other. “We need to get back to our class,” Freya said. “They’ll be leaving now-”
“Is that so?” said Swi?gar in an odd voice. “Back to your ‘class,’ eh? Back to those you belong to, or who belong to you. Yes, I suppose you could leave, if you could find your way back . . .”
Swi?gar stepped aside and revealed the archway through which Daniel and Freya had walked.
It was completely sealed up.
“No,” Freya moaned. They both rushed forward and pressed their hands against the stone, which was now under the bevelled archway, as if it had always been there. They tried to find a crack or seam that ran along the edge that might suggest it was actually a stone door that had closed or slid shut. They pushed it, banged it, tapped it, thumped it, and kicked it, but it did not respond in the slightest. It was cold, solid, and immovable.
“You’ll not be going back that way,” Ecgbryt said.
“When did-how did this happen?” Freya gasped. “There was a passage here, a tunnel! Where did it go?”
“The sun will have set by now,” Swi?gar said. “That is a special wall; it only opens at a certain time, and for certain people.”
“I don’t understand,” Freya said.
“When the sun has just gone below the earth, but there are not yet any stars out, that is the time when the wall may open-under certain circumstances.”
“We need-we have to get out,” Freya said, starting to panic. “I have to get home.”
“Calm yourself, little ??eling,” Ecgbryt soothed. “That is not the only way out.”
Ecgbryt stepped aside to reveal a plain tunnel that had opened in the wall opposite. Daniel and Freya dashed over to it. There was no archway, just a gap in the wall about the height and width of one of the knights. “That wasn’t there before,” Freya stated.
“Are you so sure?”
“Yes!”
“Where does it lead?” asked Daniel.
“It leads to the underground city of Ni?ergeard,” Swi?gar said. He moved close and placed a large, heavy hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “It is the only portal you’ll find here. The only way out. We must take you there, young Daniel and young Freya.”
“Aye,” agreed Ecgbryt, pulling a burning log from the brazier, holding it like a torch. “And it’s past time we started to cover ground.”
CHAPTER THREE
That Time We Saved the World
1
Now . . .
He’d kept his pace and turned his head to show what he felt was the expected amount of interest for a passerby to give a crime scene. Then he took a turn down Hollybrush Road, another at St. Thomas’s Street, and then up Worcester Street. He wondered where it would be best for him to lay low. The police kept a pretty accurate and up-to-date social map of the Oxford indigent community, he knew. It was starting to look like a cold sleep in Port Meadow tonight. Maybe then he’d think about walking up to Abbingdon, or even Reading.
But it was while walking down Walton Street that he noticed a couple of officers were following him-at least, he felt like they were following him. They were walking the same street as he was, which was long and busy. It could be a coincidence, he thought. Or perhaps not.
He was just re-plotting a route that would take him out of their direction when he heard a familiar voice call his name. He turned and saw Freya waving at him. She wasn’t wearing a coat or jacket. Daniel backtracked and came to stand near her.
“Hi, um,” she said, wrapping her arms around her chest and huddling against the cold. “I’ve got a table in there.” Freya motioned to a cafe with red trim and large-paned windows. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Daniel looked past her at the two policemen walking leisurely up the street and nodded. Freya smiled at him. “Good.”
They entered and went up to the counter. “What would you like?”
“Tea. Hot tea.”
“Anything to eat?”
Daniel shrugged. He was famished but didn’t want her to know that.
“The toasted sandwiches are good. How about one of those? Ham and cheese?”
Daniel nodded.
“Cool. Why don’t you sit down? I’m over there.” She pointed to a table near the window. Daniel turned and went to the table. He pulled out one of the rickety wooden chairs and lowered himself onto it.