The Pale Horseman Read Online Free PDF Page B

pay them to do it, and so I had no

future in Northumbria, not then. But I would go back. That was my soul's wish, and I would go

back with Ragnar the Younger, my friend, who still lived because his ship had weathered the

storm. I heard that from a priest who had listened to the negotiations outside Exanceaster

and he was certain that Earl Ragnar had been one of the Danish lords in Guthrum's

delegation.
    'A big man,' the priest told me, 'and very loud.' That description convinced me that

Ragnar lived and my heart was glad for it, for I knew that my future lay with him, not with

Alfred. When the negotiations were finished and a truce made, the Danes would doubtless

leave Exanceaster and I would give my sword to Ragnar and carry it against Alfred, who

hated me. And I hated him. I told Mildrith that we would leave Defnascir and go to Ragnar,

that I would be his man and that I would pursue my blood feud against Kjartan and against my

uncle under Ragnar's eagle banner, and Mildrith responded with tears and more tears.
    I cannot bear a woman's crying. Mildrith was hurt and she was confused and I was angry

and we snarled at each other like wildcats and the rain kept falling and I raged like a beast

in a cage and wished Alfred and Guthrum would finish their talking because everyone knew

that Alfred would let Guthrum go, and once Guthrum left Exanceaster then I could join the

Danes and I did not care whether Mildrith came or not, so long as my son, who bore my name, went

with me. So by day I hunted, at night I drank and dreamed of revenge and then one evening I

came home to find Father Willibald waiting in the house.
    Willibald was a good man. He had been chaplain to Alfred's fleet when I commanded those

twelve ships, and he told me he was on his way back to Hamtun, but he thought I would like to

know what had unfolded in the long talks between Alfred and Guthrum.
    'There is peace, lord,' he told me, 'thanks be to God, there is peace.'
    'Thanks be to God,' Mildrith echoed.
    I was cleaning the blood from the blade of a boar spear and said nothing. I was thinking

that Ragnar was released from the siege now and I could join him.
    'The treaty was sealed with solemn oaths yesterday,' Willibald said, 'and so we have

peace.'
    'They gave each other solemn oaths last year,' I said sourly.
    Alfred and Guthrum had made peace at Werham, but Guthrum had broken the truce and murdered

the hostages he had been holding. Eleven of the twelve had died, and only I had lived because

Ragnar was there to protect me. 'So what have they agreed?' I asked.
    'The Danes are to give up all their horses,' Willibald said, 'and march back into

Mercia.'
    Good, I thought, because that was where I would go. I did not say that to Willibald, but

instead sneered that Alfred was just letting them march away. 'Why doesn't he fight them?' I

asked.
    'Because there are too many, lord. Because too many men would die on both sides.'
    'He should kill them all.'
    'Peace is better than war,' Willibald said.
    'Amen,' Mildrith said.
    I began sharpening the spear, stroking the whetstone down the long blade. It seemed to me

that Alfred had been absurdly generous. Guthrum, after all, was the one remaining leader

of any stature on the Danish side, and he had been trapped, and if I had been Alfred there

would have been no terms, only a siege, and at its end the Danish power in southern England

would have been broken. Instead Guthrum was to be allowed to leave Exanceaster.
    'It is the hand of God,' Willibald said.
    I looked at him. He was a few years older than I was, but always seemed younger. He was

earnest, enthusiastic and kind. He had been a good chaplain to the twelve ships, though the

poor man was ever seasick and blanched at the sight of blood. 'God made the peace?' I asked

sceptically.
    'Who sent the storm that sank Guthrum's ships?' Willibald retorted fervently, 'who

delivered Ubba into our hands?'
    'I did,' I