"Call father," I said to Withelm, who was the youngest of us three. The
boy ran in, and presently my father came out and looked long at the glow
in the sky.
"Even as I thought," he said. "The king's town is burning, and I must go
to tell the jarl. Strange that we have had no message. Surely the king's
men must be hard pressed if this is a foe's work."
So he went at once, leaving us full of wonder and excited, as boys will
be at anything that is new and has a touch of fear in it. But he had
hardly gone beyond the outbuildings when one came running and calling
him. The jarl had sent for him, for there was strange news from the
king. Then he and this messenger hastened off together.
In half an hour the war horns were blowing fiercely, and all the quiet
town was awake, for my father's forebodings were true, and the foe was
on us. In our house my mother was preparing the food that her husband
should carry with him, and I was putting a last polish on the arms that
should keep him, while the tramp of men who went to the gathering rang
down the street, one by one at first, and then in twos and threes. My
mother neither wept nor trembled, but worked with a set face that would
not show fear.
Then came in my father, and I armed him, begging at the same time that I
might go also, for I could use /my/ weapons well enough; but he told me
that some must needs bide at home as a guard, and that I was as much
wanted there as at the king's place, wherewith I had to be content.
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