side of the river. So I told them of Elgar
the fisher and of his brave deeds, and they were silent, thinking of
what his worth was; too great indeed for praise. Only the bishop said he
should surely have a mound raised over him as over a warrior, charging
us three, or whichever lived after this fight, to see to that.

Now we slept a little, posting sentries at many points, and giving those
next the Danes on either side the red cloaks of the picket we had slain,
lest daylight should betray them. It was in all our minds that at
daybreak our men would attack from Bridgwater, driving the Danes back on
us, and so we should fall on them while they were retreating, and
complete the victory. So we had men on the hill overlooking the road to
Bridgwater through Cannington that they might give us the first warning.

Therefore I slept quietly, and all with me. And as I slept I dreamed.

It seemed that I was standing alone on Brent Hill and from that I could
look all over the land of Somerset, as an eagle might look, but being
close to everything that I would see. And I saw all that I had done
since I stood there as a prisoner, watching myself curiously in all that
I did, and yet knowing all the thoughts that drove me to deed after deed.

And so through the mirk wood till I turned and slew, and armed myself,
and tormented my prisoner; then to the collier's hut, and my talking
with the child; then on till I saw the lights of the viking ships and so
thereafter bore the war arrow--everything, till at last I saw myself
sleeping under the trees, on the top of this hill of Combwich, and there
I thought my dream would surely end; but it did not.

For now out of the shadows came Matelgar and stood beside me and waked
me, and he told me that when the tide was out I must be up and doing.
And so he passed. And the old crone, Gundred, came out of the shadows,
and sat on her bundle of sticks and looked at me, and she too bade me be
up and doing when the tide was low. And she looked at the standard that
lay beside me, and said, "Aye, a standard; but not yet the Dragon of
Wessex"; and so she, too, faded away.

And then came Alswythe, and as she came, it seemed, as I looked, that I
stretched my arms to her; but she smiled and said, "Love, when the tide
is out, I shall be praying in the abbey for you and your men."

And then from beside her came Turkil, the little child, smiling also,
but hanging to Alswythe's dress as he said, "Warrior, when t