The Hallowed Isle Book Two Read Online Free Page B

like children who cannot go out to play because of the rain. And I say to you, neither will this time last.”
    He spoke slowly, a kindly grandfather chiding willful boys, and here and there a man would hang his head with a shamefaced grin.
    â€œA man’s mood changes, sometimes happy and sometimes sorrowful. Our holy mother earth has also her moods and changes. Will you desert her because now she is weeping? For men who have been uprooted from their homelands perhaps it is true that one land is as good as the next. But the Myrgings have been here since Mannus himself walked the earth. We are a free land and a free people, bound only to this soil.”
    Carefully, Eadguth bent and grasped a handful of muddy earth. He held it high, and the water squeezed out between his fingers and ran like brown blood down his hand.
    My mother’s bones lie in this earth, thought Oesc. If I leave here, I will have lost her entirely. But his father still stood beside him, and his bones were clad in warm and living flesh.
    â€œWill you leave this holy earth, blessed by the blood of your fathers, for an alien land? Perhaps, as Octha says, in time it will accept you. But I say this—it will not be in your time, nor in that of your children. Stay, men of the Myrgings and those whom we have welcomed here. Stay, and defend the land that has nourished you.”
    Some of the men knelt in reverence and set their hands on the wet grass, but others were still standing, brows bent in thought.
    Geflaf stepped forward once more. “The Myrging-king has spoken. Go now, carls and eorls, free men of our nation. Speak together, and when the sun is sinking toward the sea, return and say what your decision will be.”
    He turned away, and the men drew into knots and clusters as they began their debate.
    â€œWhat now?” asked Octha, watching King Eadguth make his way slowly back toward the hall.
    â€œNow we wait,” answered Geflaf. He also was watching his king, and Oesc saw sorrow in his gaze.
    That day seemed very long to Oesc, longer even than the day before the Midsummer festival. He tried to fill it by showing his father where Hildeguth was buried, and the best place to catch fish below the whirlpool, and even the god-images in the sacred bog, but he could tell that Octha’s attention was elsewhere. And as the sun drove her wain across the fields of the sky his distraction grew, until the time came to turn their steps back toward the great oak tree.
    Away to the west the sky was glowing in shades of amber and rose. Broad bands of light rayed out from the setting sun as if showing the way to Britannia. But a great peace lay on the Myrging lands. Even the sea lay still, its waters a lucent blue, and each leaf and blade of grass seemed to have caught the sunset’s gold. Did it seem so fair, wondered Oesc, because he might soon be leaving it? Then he looked again and thought, But perhaps we will not be going. It is too beautiful. On such an evening, no one could make the choice to go.
    Once more King Eadguth came forth and sat in his carven chair, gazing at his people with hooded eyes. Once more the people gathered around the great tree.
    â€œMen of the Myrgings,” said Geflaf when they were quiet. “The sun has finished her course and it is time to choose our own. Are you ready to decide?”
    â€œAye,” came the response from many voices.
    â€œThen let the leaders of your clans and families stand forth and say your will.”
    Hæsta was first to step out from the crowd.
    â€œI speak for the Jutes who dwell along the Fifeldor. For a generation we have guarded your northern border. We do not fear fighting. But the fields will not bear for us. We vote to seek the new lands across the sea.”
    There was a murmur at that, for the Jutes made up a sizable portion of their fighting men. A Myrging thane came forward next, and said that he would stay by his king. One by one others followed and spoke