You remember Wulf's man,
Osgod?"
"That do I indeed," De Burg replied. "The great fellow who fought by his
side that night against the Bretons, and saved my son's life. Was he
there?"
"He was," Wulf said, "though greatly against my wishes; for he had lost an
arm in the fight at Stamford Bridge, and though it is little more than a
fortnight since, he had himself carried down here, contrary to my orders,
and insisted upon joining in the battle. I would fain search for his body
and give him burial."
"I will come with you at once," the Norman said, "I too owe him a debt of
gratitude."
The housecarls of Steyning had fallen to a man where they stood, and among
them after some searching they came upon the body of Osgod, distinguished
alike by its bulk and the loss of an arm. His axe lay with a broken shaft
by his side. His helmet was cleft asunder, and his face covered with
blood.
"His body is yet warm," Wulf said, as he lifted his arm. "I believe he
still lives."
De Burg called upon two Norman soldiers near to aid, and with their
assistance Wulf and Beorn carried Osgod down to the stream, where they
washed the blood from his face and bathed the wound in his head.
"He is certainly alive," Beorn said. "Doubtless he was stunned by the blow,
and has remained unconscious from the loss of blood."
De Burg sent for a flask of wine, and a little of this was poured through
Osgod's lips. Presently there was a deep sigh and a slight motion of the
figure, and then Osgod opened his eyes.
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