A Thane of Wessex

A Thane of Wessex, by Charles
W. Whistler

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Title: A Thane of Wessex
Author: Charles W. Whistler
Release Date: July 29, 2004 [eBook #13054]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A THANE
OF WESSEX***
E-text prepared by Martin Robb

A THANE OF WESSEX
Being a Story of the Great Viking Raids into Somerset

By
CHARLES W. WHISTLER
CHAPTER I.
OUTLAWED!
The whole of my story seems to me to begin on the day when I stood,
closely guarded, before my judges, in the great circle of the people at
the Folk Moot of the men of Somerset gathered on the ancient hill of
Brent. All my life before that seems to have been as nothing, so quiet
and uneventful it was compared to what came after. I had grown from
boyhood to manhood in my father's great hall, on the little hill of
Cannington that looks out over the mouth of the river Parret to the blue
hills beyond. And there, when I was but two-and-twenty and long
motherless, I succeeded him as thane, and tried to govern my people as
well and wisely as he, that I too might die loved and honoured as he
died. And that life lasted but three years.
Maybe, being young and headstrong, I spoke at times, when the
feasting was over and the ale cup went round, too boldly of the things
that were beyond me, and dared, in my want of experience, to criticize
the ways of the king and his ordering of matters--thinking at the same
time no thought of disloyalty; for had anyone disparaged the king to
myself my sword would have been out to chastise the speaker in a
moment. But, as it ever is, what seems wrong in another may be passed
over in oneself.
However that may be, it came to pass that Matelgar, the thane of Stert,
a rich and envious man, saw his way through this conceit of mine to his
own profit. For Egbert, the wise king, was but a few years dead, and it
was likely enough that some of the houses of the old seven kings might
dare to make headway against Ethelwulf his successor, and for a time
the words of men were watched, lest an insurrection might be made
unawares. I thought nothing of this, nor indeed dreamt that such a thing
might be, nor did one ever warn me.

My father and this Matelgar were never close friends, the open nature
of the one fitting ill with the close and grasping ways of the other. Yet,
when Matelgar spoke me fair at the rere-feast of my father's funeral,
and thereafter would often ride over and sup with me, I was proud to
think, in my foolishness, that I had won the friendship that my father
could not win, and so set myself even above him from whom I had
learnt all I knew of wisdom.
And that conceit of mine was my downfall. For Matelgar, as I was soon
to find out, encouraged my foolishness, and, moreover, brought in
friends and bought men of his, who, by flattering me, soon made
themselves my boon companions, treasuring up every word that might
tell against me when things were ripe.
Then at last, one day as I feasted after hunting the red deer on the
Quantocks, my steward came into my hall announcing messengers
from the king. They followed close on his heels, and I, who had seen
nothing of courts, wondered that so many armed men should be needed
in a peaceful hall, and yet watched them as one watches a gay show, till
some fifty men of the king's household lined my hall and fifty more
blocked the doorway. My people watched too, and I saw a smile cross
from one of Matelgar's men to another, but thought no guile.
Then one came forward and arrested me in the king's name as a traitor,
and I drew my sword on him, telling him he lied in giving me that
name, calling too on my men to aid me. But they were overmatched,
and dared not resist, for the swords of the king's men were out, and,
moreover, I saw that Matelgar's men were weaponless. He himself was
not with me, and still I had no thought of treachery.
So the end was that I was pinioned from behind and bound, and taken
away that night