The Realms Thereunder

3

Daniel and Freya, frozen in terror, could only stare at the knight.

He, in turn, gazed down at them cautiously and curiously, as if they were cornered birds that might fly away at the slightest movement.

The knight with the axe, still sitting on his bier, lay down his weapon, removed his helmet, and put it to one side, bending his neck first one way and then the other. “Faith, it’s enough to wake the dead, their screaming,” he said, rubbing his head, his voice a soft rumble. “Oh, Meotodes Meahte, my blessed bones,” he muttered. His joints popped and cracked as he let out a bellowing roar.

“Ngya-aa-argh! Has one ever been so stiff?” He patted himself down and coughed a few deep coughs as clouds of dust billowed around him.

“Hweat, bro?or!” The knight with the spear spoke, reading Daniel’s and Freya’s terrified expressions. “Would you kill them with fright?”

“Beg pardon, brother,” said the axe-knight, stretching his arms back to expand his chest, which caused a loud popping sound. “I am thoughtless on waking.”

The spear-knight took a very small step backwards and also removed his helmet. “Ah, there now, children,” he said, relaxing slightly. He leaned towards Daniel on the shaft of his lance. “Now, lad, there’s a good lad. Tell me, what might your name be?”

Daniel struggled to find his voice. “D-Daniel, sir,” he managed to stammer. “Daniel Tully.”

“A fine name, boy,” he said. “Very fine.”

“Aye,” said the other knight, swinging his legs around and off the plinth. “A name for a boy to grow into.” With a heave and a loud grunt, he stood up.

“And my little lady,” the spear-knight said, turning his head to address Freya. “Your name, please.”

“Freya Reynolds,” she replied quietly.

“A beautiful name, for one who will quite clearly grow into a beautiful woman. If it would please you, ??elingas,” the spearknight said with a smile, “would you speak to us the year?”

“You want to know the date?”

“If it would please you.”

Daniel told him.

The knight broke into a wide grin. “Ah, do you see, Ecgbryt?” he said, addressing the other. “We have slept past the second thousand. You owe me your mother’s golden gyrdel.”

“When I have found my mother . . . ,” the other replied, examining his long beard disapprovingly, “and asked it of her, it is yours, Swi?gar.”

They both broke into deep, bellowing laughter at this, and after roughly combing through their beards with their fingers, they started to plait their frazzled hair into more manageable strips. As they did, they recited a poem in a gentle singsong rhythm.

“Where goes you, little ??eling,

In uncle’s leather shoes?

‘To see a holy man in Rome

And hear a prophecy.’

“Where goes you, little ??eling,

With brother’s golden crown?

‘To talk to the men of the borderlands,

And share their Winter’s ale.’

“Where goes you, little ??eling,

With hammer and with line?

‘To build a wall in Somerset To keep the north wind out.’

“Where goes you, little ??eling,

With father’s rusty sword?

‘To split the head of a tow-haired man

Who gave and broke his word.’

“Where com’st thou, great and mighty king,

With glory, might, and peace?

‘From Wessex on the Mighty Isle,

And I rule upon my knees.’ ”

The song seemed very strange to Daniel and Freya, but the tune was happy and light, and the knights’ easy laughter and joy at the verses put them more at ease.

“What’s an ‘??eling’?” Freya asked, charmed by the song.

“Why, a young noble person, like yourself,” answered Swi?gar with a chuckle. “You are both ??elingas!”

“Oh,” said Freya. And then, “Who are you two?”

“Forgive me,” said the brown-bearded knight, picking up his axe and shield. He knelt creakily in front of Daniel and Freya. “I am Ecgbryt.”

“Etch-brut?” echoed Daniel.

“Aye, Ecgbryt-the name given to me by our warband’s heafod. It means ‘shining edge.’ I am called that for the reason that in battle, it is all that friend or foe will see of me-the blade of my weapon, twinkling in the battle-sun as it rises and falls upon the heads of my enemy.” He whacked the side of his axe against the steel rim of his shield, making a loud crack!

“And my name,” said the other knight, kneeling also, “is Swi?gar.” He whacked his lance against his shield. “It means ‘strong spear.’ My battle-brother and I have seen more fighting than many a war-chief will see in a life, even were he to live it many times over.” He raised his chin proudly and jerked it towards his weapon. “Yet the spear I hold has never been broken, nor lost to an enemy. I found this wooden shaft myself and shaped it with my two hands-it is my dearest possession.”

“Sooth,” agreed Ecgbryt. “It is no boast to tell that of all nobles alive in our age there were none better against a more bitter foe- it is simple truth. The evidence for those words is that we stand before you, for it is why we were chosen. Is it not so?”

“A plain fact,” confirmed Swi?gar with a nod. “Though we are cousins, they called us brothers-we are that much alike in war. Blood could not make us closer.”

“An aye to that!”

“H-how,” Daniel blurted, “how long have you been here?”

Swi?gar began stroking his beard. “Hmm. We were laid to sleep in the same year in which ?lfred the Geatolic died . . . which would be . . .”

“Ah, Blessed ?lfred,” Ecgbryt sighed, his eyes shifting focus. “England’s shepherd and dearling. He was the greatest king since Arthur, Bear of Britain. So wise was ?lfred, it was said that even the elves sought his council. And more than this, he brought all of the Anglecynn under one banner.”

“We fought with him against the North-men, the terrible Dane jarls from their lands of ice.” The knights leaned in eagerly, their earnest faces now close to Daniel’s and Freya’s. “Though on occasion defeated in the field, we were not defeated in spirit, and our spirits lent strength to our arms-”

“-and our hands fell the faster in battle because of it.”

Swi?gar stood up. “But to put a number to your question, I reckon we have been lying here more than five times two hundred years.”

“One thousand years?” Freya exclaimed. “But that’s impossible!”

“Not impossible,” Ecgbryt replied and stood up next to Swi?gar. “Just very uncommon. And difficult-especially in full battle dress and stretched on a cold stone.” He looked from Freya to Daniel. “It makes a body a mite stiff.”

“An aye to that.”

“What are you going to do now?” Freya asked.

“Well, that depends on you, young ??elingas,” Swi?gar answered. “What are you to do now?”

Freya and Daniel looked at each other. “We need to get back to our class,” Freya said. “They’ll be leaving now-”

“Is that so?” said Swi?gar in an odd voice. “Back to your ‘class,’ eh? Back to those you belong to, or who belong to you. Yes, I suppose you could leave, if you could find your way back . . .”

Swi?gar stepped aside and revealed the archway through which Daniel and Freya had walked.

It was completely sealed up.

“No,” Freya moaned. They both rushed forward and pressed their hands against the stone, which was now under the bevelled archway, as if it had always been there. They tried to find a crack or seam that ran along the edge that might suggest it was actually a stone door that had closed or slid shut. They pushed it, banged it, tapped it, thumped it, and kicked it, but it did not respond in the slightest. It was cold, solid, and immovable.

“You’ll not be going back that way,” Ecgbryt said.

“When did-how did this happen?” Freya gasped. “There was a passage here, a tunnel! Where did it go?”

“The sun will have set by now,” Swi?gar said. “That is a special wall; it only opens at a certain time, and for certain people.”

“I don’t understand,” Freya said.

“When the sun has just gone below the earth, but there are not yet any stars out, that is the time when the wall may open-under certain circumstances.”

“We need-we have to get out,” Freya said, starting to panic. “I have to get home.”

“Calm yourself, little ??eling,” Ecgbryt soothed. “That is not the only way out.”

Ecgbryt stepped aside to reveal a plain tunnel that had opened in the wall opposite. Daniel and Freya dashed over to it. There was no archway, just a gap in the wall about the height and width of one of the knights. “That wasn’t there before,” Freya stated.

“Are you so sure?”

“Yes!”

“Where does it lead?” asked Daniel.

“It leads to the underground city of Ni?ergeard,” Swi?gar said. He moved close and placed a large, heavy hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “It is the only portal you’ll find here. The only way out. We must take you there, young Daniel and young Freya.”

“Aye,” agreed Ecgbryt, pulling a burning log from the brazier, holding it like a torch. “And it’s past time we started to cover ground.”