Gundred the witch, men called her, knowing her well, and fearing her.

But she was never seen after the Danes swept over our land, and how she ended none ever knew.

I sought her carefully that I might give her shelter and ease for the rest of her days, but without avail.
All his life long has Dudda the Collier bided with me, serving well and roughly, but in all most faithfully, as is his wont.

And not many days after we came homewards he brought me the berserk's axe to hang in hall, for he had taken it and hidden it when we left the battlefield on the day after the fight.

So there it is now, and beside it hangs the raven flag of the largest ship, for he must needs go with the fishers across to the holms, and bring me back the tale of how the last of the Danes had perished.
And now what am I to say of the years since our hall was built again?
Long have they been, and not all happy, for many a time have I had to bear the standard of Wessex against the Danes.