"My life has been attempted, and I fear
that the brave Thane of Steyning is killed."
The alarm spread fast, and the palace so lately hushed and silent was now
in an uproar, while the bishop with many other ecclesiastics, with
servants, retainers, and men-at-arms, mingled with the thanes.
"Keep all back!" Harold cried. "Let none approach these bodies until we
have examined them."
Torches were soon brought. Harold seized one, and bent over Wulf's body.
"Is he dead?"
"His heart beats, but feebly, my lord," Osgod replied.
"Where is he hurt?"
"There is a great patch of blood here on his right side just over the hip.
I see no other sign of a wound."
"We will carry him into my chamber," the king said. "But no; I forgot, the
queen is there. We will take him into the room opposite; it matters not
whose it is. Now, Osgod, aid me to lift him gently. Bishop, I pray you send
for the leeches most skilled in the treatment of sword wounds in the city."
Then he and Osgod carried Wulf into the chamber opposite his own, and laid
him on a pallet.
"Now see to the staunching of the flow of blood till the leeches arrive. I
must inquire into this matter. Who knows aught about it?" he asked as he
went out into the corridor.
"I do, my lord king," Beorn replied as he pushed his way through the
throng. "It was a plot to take your life. Wulf, his man Osgod, and myself
had no certain knowledge of it, but we had cause for suspicion, and
therefore lay outside your door.
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