They crowded round their lady; they
kissed her hands; they bent down and kissed their little playmate, and
swore--one by God and his apostles, and the next by Odin and Thor--that
she should be a daughter to each and every one of them, as long as they
could grip steel in hand.
Then (says the chronicler) Hereward sent on spies, to see whether the
Frenchmen were in the land, and how folks fared at Holbeach, Spalding, and
Bourne.
The two young Siwards, as knowing the country and the folk, pushed
forward, and with them Martin Lightfoot, to bring back news.
Martin ran back all the way from Holbeach, the very first day, with right
good news. There was not a Frenchman in the town. Neither was there, they
said, in Spalding. Ivo Taillebois was still away at the wars, and long
might he stay.
So forward they marched, and everywhere the landsfolk were tilling the
ground in peace; and when they saw that stout array, they hurried out to
meet the troops, and burdened them with food, and ale, and all they
needed.
And at Holbeach, and at Spalding, Hereward split up the war-arrow, and
sent it through Kesteven, and south into the Cambridge fens, calling on
all men to arm and come to him at Bourne, in the name of Waltheof and
Morcar the earls.
And at every farm and town he blew the war-horn, and summoned every man
who could bear arms to be ready, against the coming of the Danish host
from Norwich.
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