March and April went by, and Olaf had gathered good fleet enough in the Thames.

But there was no word of Cnut's return, though the dread thereof hung heavy over all the land, in such wise that no man could plan what he would do without the thought rising up, "Unless the Dane comes," seeing that each day might bring news of him.
No man knows now what that terror and uncertainty was like--to have ever in one's heart the fear of that awful host that seemed to sweep from end to end of the land before a levy could be gathered to meet it.
There had been time to gather a levy now against the coming of Cnut, but naught had been done.

Sick at heart and impatient was Olaf, for England's rulers would not take care for her safety.
Then came word of a great council to be held at Oxford, and we hoped much from that; but two days after it had been held there came to us, angry and desponding, Ulfkytel, our East Anglian earl, and told us how things had gone as ill as they might.

Few words enough are needed to tell it, but none can know what harm was wrought thereby.

Whereof Olaf says that a good leader will act first, and call his council afterwards.
All the best of England were there, not only Saxon thanes of Wessex, but also loyal Danes of the old settlement, and had the king spoken his will plainly, all would have been well.