To have that lad stand between him and all his projects,
and to be forced, for honor's sake, to let him stand!
But soon his men returned, seemingly in high glee, and other knights with
them.
"Hey, lads!" said he, "I aimed at the falcon and shot the goose. Here is
Edgar Atheling prisoner. Shall we put him to ransom?"
"He has no money, and Malcolm of Scotland is much too wise to lend him
any," said some one. And some more rough jokes passed.
"Do you know, sirs, that he who lies there is your king?" asked a very
tall and noble-looking knight.
"That do we not," said Hereward, sharply. "There is no king in England
this day, as far as I know. And there will be none north of the Watling
Street, till he be chosen in full husting, and anointed at York, as well
as Winchester or London. We have had one king made for us in the last
forty years, and we intend to make the next ourselves."
"And who art thou, who talkest so bold, of king-making?"
"And who art thou, who askest so bold who I am?"
"I am Waltheof Siwardsson, the Earl, and yon is my army behind me."
"And I am Hereward Leofricsson, the outlaw, and yon is my army behind me."
If the two champions had flown at each other's throats, and their armies
had followed their example, simply as dogs fly at each other, they know
not why, no one would have been astonished in those unhappy times.
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