The auspicious month of Eostre brought warmth, joy and happiness to all in Gefndene, for it marked the wedding of Thegn Osgar Lytelman and Nothgyth the Fair. All were present and all rejoiced at this harbinger of peace, prosperity and happier times as their Thegn swore his love to the Priestess of the Goddess and she to him. Even the Humfriths were there, with garlands in their hair, woven by the maids of the valley, to much hilarity, from the spring flowers that abound at this time of year.
As chance would have it, although unaware of the impending celebrations, Groar the Shopman arrived but a week before, with a pack-train of goods, many of which had been bespoke on his previous visit. He found the valley replete with silver and even gold after Osgar’s victories over wight, nicor and ettin during the winter, and was heard to lament that had he known of Osgar’s wedding plans he would have brought far more in the way of ribbons and fine cloths with him. Nevertheless, he was observed to part many Gefndeners from their the silver-share – and willingly enough, for only a fool values cold silver over salt to flavour their food; or slave to work their fields or warm their beds; or weapons and armour to protect their lives. Groar happily agreed to stay for the wedding and gave rich gifts for bride and groom.
Groar’s chief news was that he had heard that Wiglaf had sent out the War Arrow, for a muster at Vasterwick at midsummer. However, he spoke too of great movements of people in the south. It seems that the Anglefolk had all but abandoned their ancestral lands to travel across the seas to the islands of Britannia. It seems that their kin had ventured there for generations as raiders and swords for hire to the indigenous Waelish in their incessant wars against other invaders and each other. However, Anglish athelings were now setting up their own kingdoms in Britannia. They had found good land and were in need of more folk to work it and swords to take and hold yet more. Danes had come to take the lands that they left and the slave-markets of the Baltic were awash with Angles who for one reason or another had not sailed west with their kin. Many such were in his pack train and Gefnhame now has a goodly number of Anglisc theofs.
After the celebrations ended Groar departed, heading southwards through the Pukel Caves. Not long thereafter Gefnhame received another visitor. Stithwulf, sister-son to Sighere, Ealdorman of Sighereston, arrived with six well-mounted and accoutred companions and the War Arrow. Stithwulf demanded Osgar’s presence with all his force, including “his Giants”, at the midsummer muster. Osgar clearly found Stithwulf arrogant and demanding, while Stithwulf showed little trust in the new thegn of Gefndene, staying but a night and mounting a watch amongst his men as they slept. Their parting was cold in the morning.
Shortly thereafter Osgar’s hall received another visitor, as Fraomar the Far-travelled returned to Gefndene. He was warmly received and as before, entertained the hall with his wit and wisdom. He had little fresh news for the general ear but folk noted that he spent much time speaking privily with the Thegn.
With Eostre all but done and Thrimilchmonath, the month of plenty when the kine may be milked three times in a day, upon the valley, Thegn Osgar Lytelman announced his intention to travel to Bardney Island and attend to his Blot-oath to slay the Wose that had been terrorising those parts. His wife of but a month was clearly less than pleased at this news but could see that he would not be gainsaid and agreed that now was like to be as good a time as any. However, wanting to have the last word on all matters, as wives do, Nothgyth adjured him to return in one piece for she did not want their child to be born fatherless. That she was with child was clearly news to Lytelman for his mouth began to make the shapes like that of a gaffed salmon as it lay gasping upon the bank. To his credit, he had wit enough to say naught to this news (for how many men in his place have blurted out “How!”, to general derision and offers of detailed explanation; or worse enquire as to the father of the bairn). Instead, he confined himself to an assurance that it was indeed his every intention to return with all component parts intact and well before midsummer to boot.
The following day he set forth with but a small party, comprising himself, his retainer Svipdag, Herewulf Crowbane, and the young Thunor priest Leofdag the Leaper. They left the valley through the Pukel Caves to the south. A little before the end of the second day’s march they arrived at the hall of Thegn Brihtwold where Osgar was well known. They left the corpses of two Thurse in the long gully behind them – wights that had the misfortune to be travelling north, up the gully, as they travelled south. They were welcomed in a friendly manner in Brihtwold’s hall – the more so for the arm-ring Osgar gifted to the old Thegn – and sat at his right hand at supper.
The marsh boat that had once been left at the mouth of the gully by the fleeing witch and her Sweon bodyguards (amongst them Svipdag) a year ago was intact but in poor repair. They agreed with a man in Brihtwoldstead for a boat in better repair – the man took the old boat in payment and silver changed hands as well. In the morning Osgar and his companions paddled eastwards along this branch of the Malanmere toward Bardney.
That night they rested on a shingle beach amongst reed-beds that both Osgar and Herewulf found familiar, for it was here that their comrade Gadd had been slain by merefolk a year past. This time the Geats were better prepared for their night visitors and the sand was soaked in wightish blood as they reaped a grim harvest amongst the merefolk that once more sought to creep out of reed and mere to slit their throats by moonlight.
The following day they came to Bardney and beached the boat on the very strand where the boy Eadweard had told Lytelman and Herewulf of the witch and her Sweon warriors who slew his family at the water’s edge so that she might summon merefolk with their blood to carry her away from the island and the pursuing Geats after the Battle of the Spile. Svipdag, too, knew this strand for he had been one of the Sweon warriors, ensorcelled to the witch’s will.
They made their way upwards from there to the rise on which stood Coelraed’s Hall. At a distance Herewulf raised his ancient bronze lur to his lips and sounded their approach. They were met at the gate of the compound by none other than Eadweard. He recognised Lytelman and asked whether he ever brought to justice the witch that slew his kin as he had promised. Lytelman said that he had and was now come to slay the Wose of Bardney. The boy brightened visibly at this news, though it was clear that the boy’s map was more accustomed to the tracks of misery. Svipdag cast down his eyes and said nothing.
Coelraed’s once fine hall was clearly in a poor state, with patches in the walls and thatch missing from the roof. It was empty. Coelraed himself was to be found in an outhouse where he huddled with what remained of his household – women and children for the most part. It seems that the Wose disdained to slay them and preyed instead upon armed men. One by one it had dragged away most of his armed retainers to his lair. His gebur had fled from the island along with those of his tenant ceorls not taken by the Wose.
Coelraed offered Osgar and his party a cautious welcome. They were not the first to come promising to rid him of the Wose. Each had stayed the night in his hall. Each night at least one of their number had been carried off by the Wose, sometimes kicking and screaming, sometimes already dead. A few had attempted the feat alone and were simply not to be seen the next morn. Mostly those who had come in groups had left the next day to mourn their comrades, having seen the fury of the Wose first hand. Of course, Thegn Osgar Lytelman made immediate arrangements to sleep in the hall that night with his companions.
In truth they planned not to sleep at all but all four stood guard wearing such armour as they saw fit with their chosen weapons to hand. There was some discussion about this last matter and it was agreed that axes and francas were more like to pierce the woody hide of the Wose than spears and saexes. It was also decided that there was little sense in Leofdag warding the hall with Thunor-runes since they were intent on tempting the Wose into attacking them. Lytelman, who alone had encountered the Wose, was of the view that it was no dullard Thurse but a sharp-witted and cunning foe that simply would not enter into a building so warded. Indeed Osgar took the view that the best course of action was to issue a challenge to the beast lest it delay its attack until they were weary from lack of sleep. So it was that Herewulf stood forth and issued a challenge on his great bronze lur that echoed across the island.
It was in the darkest part of the short Thrimilchmonath night that the Wose showed itself. At first it simply prowled about the outside of the hall issuing threats and challenges. It knew Osgar from his scent, or so it said, and seemed to bear him particular ill-will. Round the outside of the hall it stalked, seeking to grasp one of its foemen standing too close to window or door, or one of the many wattle and daub panels that formed the walls of the hall. But the Geats were wary and careful, and when it made a sudden dart through the doorway it found that steel awaited and that each of his targets was swiftly supported by his fellows before he could grapple them away. After a number of such forays there was a hiatus followed by an almighty crash as the Wose jumped through the roof, down into the midst of the hall. The Geats were surprised and the Wose struck a number of keen blows. However, before it could follow up its success Leofdag the Leaper, who had himself been hidden in the rafters, lived up to his eke-name by throwing himself upon the Wose’s back while aflame with the power of Thunor. This rune-magic clearly pained the Wose who stumbled towards the hall doorway pursued by the thrown francas of Svipdag and the axe of Osgar. The Wose used the doorjamb to fetch the young Thunor-priest a fearful dunt which dislodged him so that he fell senseless to the ground. However, Osgar was hot upon his heels and with his Giant-wrought axe smote the Wose a terrible blow that severed its right arm at the shoulder.
The Wose gave an awful cry and fled into the night. Lytelman briefly gave chase but it was dark, the Wose was much faster than he and some of his comrades were down. He returned to the hall and settled for tracking the beast to its lair in the morning light. None of the Geats were sore-wounded – just bruised and exhausted from their exertions – and as dawn broke the Geats were following Herewulf, a skilled hunter, as he searched out the tracks of the Wose, At first it was no great feat to find, for it was trailing a green ichor from its wound. However, as the morning wore on its trail became harder and harder to pick up. As Herewulf was casting around at the bottom of a wooded rise, Lytelman looked up and realised that they had come to that very spot where a year ago he and his companions had found the Wosewife and her youngling.
Leading them up the hill he came once more to the tangled copse at the top and began to make his way into its thorny heart. There they found a grove of young Wosewives who sought to entangle and suck the life out of the those who invaded their home. Indeed Herewulf and Leofdag in particular were sore beset, but in the end the grove and its treasures fell to the avenging Geats. In the grove was also the body of the Wose, though it resembled more a fallen tree than the vital force it had been but a few hours since. One other denizen was there in the Wose-thicket, for as Osgar struck down the last Wosewife, he was struck from behind by the little Woseling that a year before they had captured. Though it had grown impressively since then it was still no match for the Geatish thegn and his steel, yet it was quick and nimble and was able to retreat to an inaccessible part of the thicket. There it cursed Osgar for slaying its mother, its father and all its sisters and swore that when he had his full growth he would find out his home and come after him. The Geats tried to come at him but he swarmed away through the undergrowth and was not seen again.
The Geats were weary. They had travelled the most part of the day before, stayed on guard the night long and fought two hard engagements. Some were also wounded. However, the silver thirst was upon them. It was clear that there was treasure in the grove, upon the bodies of those heroes before them who had tried to slay the Wose, along with those who were simply its victims. Their dried-up corpses now lay amongst the sucking roots of the Wosewives with their goods still upon them. There were few hand weapons or shields amongst them, presumably dropped as they were borne away by the Wose (leading Herewulf to speculate that Coelraed must have a mighty horde of such arms about his hall).
Counting heads, there were upwards of two dozen new corpses in the copse, along with the older remains that Lytelman and his comrades had sifted through the previous year. Of these, three were of note for the richness of their equipment. The Geats, being weary, had sent back to Coelraedstead for help and the man himself arrived with Eadwaerd, two pack beasts and a couple of thralls. He readily identified the corpses of two well-accoutred warriors as those of two Gesiths of Eorl Sigehere – Aethelthryth the Fox and Hrotholf the Fair. They had come as a pair and had stayed in the hall overnight. Coelraed deduces that Aethelthryth was carried off by the Wose and that Hrotholf gave chase and was slain in the woods, where his shield and axe were found. The third was some kind of witch hight Rune-Ida. She had disdained to wait upon the Wose in the hall at night and had set off into the woods in broad daylight relying upon her runecraft and six large, axe-wielding men. None returned.
There had been some discussion amongst the Geats that all the treasures in the grove were theirs by right of arms. However, Thegn Osgar-Lytelman, while not disagreeing with that view, averred that glory was the best and only bulwark of a man’s name after death. There was little point in doing the deeds of heroes and then tarnishing their names by behaving like greedy theofs afterwards. These men, their hlafod and their kin were well-known in the district. They would gain far more fame from their deed were they to return the two warriors to Sigherestun to their kin. This was no small matter as there were byrnies, grim-helms, swords and fine weapons amongst their goods, along with gold and silver ornaments and rune amulets. However, at Lytelman’s command they laid the bodies of the two gesiths upon a bier with their possessions about them.
As none knew whence the witch had come or who her kin might be, Lytelman agreed that they should treat her possessions as spoils along with such silver and other things of value found scattered around the grove. This treasure was duly divided up between Lytelman’s companions – Coelraed helping himself to a sizeable stock of mundane weapons and armour that was of little value to well-equipped Gefndeners.
That evening Svipdag took aside the young Eadwaerd and told him of his part, and that of Sweyne’s, in the death of his family. He presented his entire silver-share to the boy as a wergild – a sum far outstripping that normally due to family of poor ceorls. There were tears and angry words. However, Thegn Osgar was able to support Svipdag’s account of his own ensorcelment and Coelraed stepped in to strongly counsel the boy to take the offered wergild. So the two were formally reconciled.
Three days after the fight with the Wose, Thegn Osgar set off for Sigherestun. He and his companions took the boat they arrived in while Coelraed, Eadweard and a couple of theofs poled a raft upon which were laid the bodies of Aelthryth and Hrotholf. They were laid out with all their goods upon them. Coelraed, admittedly with a slight show of reluctance, had added their decorated shield, a fine spear and a fine axe that had been left behind when they were carried away by the Wose. Osgar had with him the head of the Wose – for all that it resembled more the bole of a coppiced tree – and its arm which still possessed a strange vitality, oozing a sticky sap from the its mangled shoulder. Svipdag and Leofdag both thought they had seen its fingers twitch. Svipdag was all for throwing it into the Malanmere but Leofdag counselled against this as he had an idea that there might be dryten within it that could be harnessed by a runemaege to some purpose or other. It also stood as a powerful witness to the truth of their tale.
They arrived at Sigherestun in the late afternoon. Thegn Osgar stated his name and business to the port-reeve who sent a messenger with their news up to the burgh. Eorl Sigehere himself came to give welcome to Wose-killers, showing them great honour and conveying them up to the Great Hall in the burgh, together with the bodies they carried. While Lytelman had told the bare bones of his tale to the port-reeve, the Eorl and the assembled throng were keen to hear all the detail.
So Osgar stood forth and told of his deeds and those of his companions. There were those who muttered that it was not the most finely told flyting that they had ever heard, but the subject matter was compelling and there were exclamations of wonder – and some expressions of doubt – when Osgar told how he had struck the arm from the wight (how like to the deeds of Beowulf). However, Leofric brought forth the ichor-oozing limb, cunningly held for the moment of greatest impact beneath his cloak, and it obligingly gave a slight twitch, drawing gasps from all and silencing the doubters.
When he was done with his tale the Eorl led his household in acclaiming Osgar-Lytelman and his companions for their deed and praising their honour in returning the bodies of two of Sigherestun’s favourite sons to their kin. He takes a gold armring from his own arm and gifts it to Lytelman while silver is given to his companions also from the Eorl’s own person. As the boards were set and the best ale brought out for feasting, the Eorl calls for his gifting chest and more rich gifts were presented to Lytelman, including a finely decorated longsword with sheath and belt. The Eorl too made public show of acknowledging Osgar as Thegn of Gefndene. This last was protested loudly and directly to the Eorl by Stithwulf, Sighere’s sister-son, who had been glowering throughout and had led those who initially scorned Lytelman’s tale. Sighere’s response was to banish Stithwulf from his hall, telling him not to return until he remembered his manners to an honoured guest.
Over that evening and the next day Lytelman was approached and thanked personally by the families of the two dead gesiths and others who had known them, or simply wished to make the closer acquaintance of this new Geatish hero. Many wished to know more of him and in was plain that many had heard tales of Giants and were curious. He was also seen to spend a good deal of time in private audience with the Eorl.