The Danes had been beaten utterly at Norwich. Ralph de Guader and his
Frenchmen had fought like lions. They had killed many Danes in the assault
on the castle. They had sallied out on them as they recoiled, and driven
them into the river, drowning many more. The Danes had gone down the Yare
again, and out to sea northward, no man knew whither. He, the Heron,
prowling about the fenlands of Norfolk to pick off straggling Frenchmen
and looking out for the Danes, had heard all the news from the landsfolk.
He had watched the Danish fleet along the shore as far as Blakeney. But
when they came to the isle, they stood out to sea, right northwest. He,
the Heron, believed that they were gone for Humber Mouth.
After a while, he had heard how Hereward was come again and sent round the
war-arrow, and thought that a landless man could be in no better company;
wherefore he had taken boat, and come across the deep fen. And there he
was, if they had need of him.
"Need of you?" said Hereward, who had heard of the deed at Wrokesham
Bridge. "Need of a hundred like you. But this is bitter news."
And he went in to ask counsel of Torfrida, ready to weep with rage. He had
disappointed, deceived his men. He had drawn them into a snare. He had
promised that the Danes should come. How should he look them in the face?
"Look them in the face? Do that at once--now--without losing a moment.
Pages:
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373