So we went to Glastonbury in a little time, and now it was as if
Yuletide had come again in high summer, so full was the little town
with guests who came to the wedding. Erpwald had come soon after
us, with a train of Sussex thanes, who were his neighbours and
would see him through the business, and take him and his bride home
again. Well loved were the ealdorman and his fair daughter, and
this was the first wedding in the new church, of which all the land
was proud.
Only Ina was somewhat uneasy, though he would not shew it. For on
all the Wessex border from Severn Sea to the Channel there was
unrest. It seemed that the hand of Gerent had altogether slackened
on his people, so that they did what they listed, and it was even
worse than it had been in the days of Morgan and his brother, for
at least they were answerable for what the men of Dyvnaint wrought
of harm. There was none to take their place here, while the old
king bided in Exeter or in Cornwall, and never came to Norton at
all now. So there was pillage and raiding across the Parrett, and
at last Ina had sent messages to Gerent concerning it.
A fortnight ago that was, and now the messengers had returned,
bearing word from Gerent that he himself would come and speak to
Ina of Wessex and answer him, and it was doubtful what that answer
meant. There might well be a menace of war therein, or it might
mean that he was only coming to Norton. It would not be the first
time that the two kings had met there and spoken with one another
in all friendliness concerning matters which might have been of
much trouble. And we heard at least of no gathering of forces by
the Welsh.
Yet Ina warned all the sheriffs of the Wessex borderland, and could
do no more. The levies would come up at once when the first summons
came.
All of which the ealdorman spoke to me of, but neither Erpwald nor
Elfrida knew that war was in the air. We did not tell them. Thus we
hoped to keep all knowledge that aught was unrestful from them in
their happiness, until at least they two were beyond the sound of
war, if it needs must come.
But it came to pass on the day before the wedding that all men knew
thereof in stern truth, and that was a hard time for many.
Erpwald and I sat on the bench before the ealdorman's house in the
late sunshine of the long July evening, talking of the morrow, and
of Eastdean, and aught else that came uppermost, so that it was
pleasant to think of, and before us we could see the long road that
goes up the slope of Polden hills and so westward toward the Devon
border. Along it came a wain or two laden high with the first rye
that was harvested that year, and a herd or two of lazy kine
finding their way to the byres for the evening milking. And then
beyond the wains rose a dust, and I saw the waggoners draw aside,
and the dust passed them, and the kine scattered wildly as it
neared them; and so down the peaceful road spurred a little company
of men who shouted as they came, never drawing rein or sparing spur
for all that the farm horses reared and plunged and the kine fled
terror stricken.
I think that I knew what it meant at once, but Erpwald laughed and
said: "More of our guests, belike. One rides fast to a bridal, but
they are over careless."
But I did not answer, for the hot pace of those who came never
slackened, and spurring and with loose rein they swept across the
bridge over the stream and so thundered toward us.
"Here is a hurry beyond a jest," said Erpwald, sitting up;
"somewhat is amiss, surely."
Never rode men in that wise but for life. In a minute they were
close, and one of them spied me and called to me, waving his arm
toward the palace and reeling in his saddle as he did so. His arm
was bandaged, and I saw that the spear his comrade next him bore
was reddened, and that the other two had leapt on their horses with
nought but the halter to guide them withal, as if in direst need
for haste. Not much longer could their horses last as it seemed.
I sprang up and followed to the king's courtyard, leaving Erpwald
wondering, and a footpath brought me there almost as they drew rein
inside the gates. One of the horses staggered and fell as soon as
he stayed, and his rider was in little better plight. That one who
had beckoned to me knew me, and spoke at once, breathless:
"Let us to the king, Thane. The Welsh--the Welsh!"
"An outlaw raid again?" I asked.
"Would I come hither in this wise for that?" the man answered.
He was a sturdy franklin from the Quantock side of the river--one
whose father had been set there by Kenwalch.
"I can deal, and have dealt, with the like of them, but this is
war. They are on us in their thousands, and I have even been burnt
out for being a Saxon, by a raiding party."
"Whence?"
"From Norton," answered another of the men. "Gerent, their king, is
there with a host beyond counting. One fled from across the hills
and told us, and we believed him not till the raiders came."
With that I took the men straightway to the king, bidding the
house-carles hold their peace awhile. And even as we talked with
this party, another man rode in from the Tone fenlands, and he had
seen the march of the West Welsh men, and knew that Gerent's force
was halted at Norton. A swift and sudden gathering, and a swift
march that was worthy of a good leader, else had we heard thereof
before this.
After that man came another, and yet another, till all the
courtyard was full of reeking horses and white-faced men, and the
ealdorman was sent for and Nunna; and in an hour or less the war
arrow was out, and the news was flying north and south and east,
with word that all Somerset was to be here on the morrow to hold
the land their forebears had won from those who came.
Presently with the quiet of knowing all done that might be done on
us, the ealdorman and I went down to his house.
"Here is an end of tomorrow's wedding," he said sadly. "I do not
know how Elfrida will take it, for it is not to be supposed that
Erpwald will hold back from the levy, though, indeed, if ever man
had excuse, he has it in full."
I knew that he would not, also, and said nothing. He was yet
sitting on the settle where I had left him waiting for me, with the
level sun in his face as it sank across the Poldens, and he looked
content with all things.
"What a coil and a clatter has been past me, surely," he said. "I
doubt there must be a raid over the border, from what I hear the
men shouting."
"More than that, friend," I said gravely, looking straight at him.
"The Welsh are on us in all earnest, and tomorrow we must meet them
somewhere yonder, where the sun is setting."
He looked at me, and his face flushed redder and redder.
"What, fighting in the air?" he said, with a sort of new interest.
"War,--nothing more or less," answered Herewald with a groan.
"I am in luck for once," he said, leaping up. "Let me go with you,
Oswald; for this is what I have never seen."
"Hold hard, son-in-law," cried the ealdorman. "What of the
wedding?"
His face fell, and he stared at us blankly, but his cheek paled.
"Forgive me," he said. "I never can manage to keep more than one
thing in my head at a time. Here was I thinking of nought but that,
until this news came and drove out all else. Don't tell Elfrida
that I forgot it."
"Trouble enough for her without that," answered Herewald. "You
cannot hold back, maybe, though indeed, not one will think the
worse of you if you do so. We must tell Elfrida what has befallen,
however, and she must speak her mind on your doings. Come, let us
find her."
"Do you speak first, Ealdorman," I said, and he nodded and went his
way.
Erpwald and I followed him into the hall, and there stayed. He was
long gone thence to the bower where Elfrida sat with her maidens
preparing for the morrow.
"What will she say?" asked Erpwald presently.
"I think that she will bid you fight for the king, though it will
be hard for her to do so."
"I hope she will, though, indeed, I should like to think that it
will not be easy for her to send me away," said the lover, torn in
two ways. "How long will it take to settle with these Welsh?"
"I cannot tell," I said, shaking my head.
For, indeed, though I would not say it, a Welsh war is apt to be a
long affair if once they get among the hills.
"If we have the victory, I think that the wedding will not be put
off for so very long," I added to comfort him.
He walked back and forth across the hall until Herewald came back,
and then started toward him.
"Go yonder and speak with her," the ealdorman said, pointing to the
door whence he came.
Then he went hastily, and we two looked at one another.
"How is it with her?" I said.
"In the way of the girl who helped you slay Morgan," he said
grimly. "She would hold him nidring if he had not wished to go."
We went to the door and looked out. All the road was dotted with
men from the nearer villages who came to the gathering, and as they
marched, each after the reeve of the place, they sang. And past the
hindmost of them came a single horseman hurrying. Another messenger
with the same news, doubtless.
Then there were footsteps across the hall behind us, and Elfrida
and Erpwald came to us. I stole one glance at her, and saw that she
hid her sorrow and pain well, though it was not without an effort.
She spoke fast, and seemingly in cheerful wise, as we turned to
her.
"Father, here is this Erpwald, who will go to the war, and I cannot
hold him back. What can you say to him?"
"Nought, surely. For if he will not listen to you, it is certain
that he will hearken to none else."
She laughed a little strained laugh, and turned to Erpwald.
"You must have your own way, as I can see plainly enough; and our
wedding must needs wait your pleasure. Even my father will not help
to keep you here."
"But, Elfrida--it was your own saying--" the poor lover went no
further, for he was beyond his depth altogether.
It would seem that this was not the way in which she had spoken to
him when they were alone. So I went to help him.
"We will take care of him, Elfrida," I said, trying to laugh; "but
I think that he is able to do that for himself fairly well."
Then I was sorry that I had spoken, for it was a foolish speech,
seeing that it brought the thought of danger more closely to her
than was need, or maybe than she had let it come to her yet. She
turned into the half-darkness of the hall again, and after her went
Erpwald. The ealdorman and I went to the courtyard and left them,
feeling that we need say no more.
Then through the dusk that horseman whom we had noted clattered up,
and called in a great voice to us, asking if we knew where he
should find Oswald the marshal, and I answered him and went out
into the road to him. And there sat Thorgils, fully armed, on a
great horse that was white with foam, but had been carefully
ridden.
"Ho, comrade! have you heard the news?" he said, gripping my hand.
"Twenty times in half an hour," I answered. "But is there somewhat
fresh?"
"Have any of your twenty told you that these knaves of Welsh have
broken peace with us, tried to burn Watchet town--and had their
heads broken?"
"News indeed, that," said I. "What more?"
"If you Saxons will stand by us, your kin, it may be worth your
while. Here have I ridden to tell you so."
Then I hurried him to the king, for this was a matter worth
hearing. Watchet was on Gerent's left flank, and a force there was
a gain to us indeed, if only by staying the force at Norton for a
day longer. We should have so much the more time in which to gather
the levies.
But, seeing that they were not yet gathered, it did not at first
seem possible to Ina that we could help to save the little town,
whose few men had beaten off today's attack, but would be surely
overwhelmed by numbers on the morrow if Gerent chose. But Thorgils
had not come hither without a plan in his head, and he set it
before the king plainly.
"Norton is on the southern end of the Quantocks, and Watchet is at
the northern end, as you know, King Ina. Between the two on the
hills is the great camp which any force can hold, but nought but a
great one can storm. If you will give me two hundred men, I will
have that camp by morning, and that will save Watchet, and maybe
hold back Gerent in such wise that he will not care to pass it
without retaking it. He will not know how few of us will be there,
and you will be able to choose your own ground for the fighting
while he bethinks him. There is but one road into Wessex across the
Quantocks, and we shall seem to menace that while we cover the way
to Watchet."
"So the camp is held?" asked Ina. "Gerent is before me there."
"Held by the men we beat off from Watchet, King. One we took tells
us that they had no business to fall on our town, but turned aside
to do it. Gerent has little hold on some of his chiefs. Now they
are there with a fear of us and our axes on them, and if we may
fall on them unawares we can take the camp without trouble, as I
think."
"Oswald," said Ina, after a little thought, "how many horsemen can
you raise now?"
The town was full of horses by this time, and I thought that it
would not be hard to raise a hundred, and that in half an hour.
Maybe if we did go with Thorgils we should meet many more men on
the way to the levy also.
"Then you shall go with Thorgils," the king said. "It is a risk,
certainly, but it is worth it. We had held that camp, had we had
but a day's earlier warning, and that loss may be made good thus.
That outlaw of yours will know many a safe place of retreat for you
if need is. Good luck be with you."
He shook hands with us both, and we did not delay. His only bidding
was that we should hold the camp until we had word from him, if we
took it, and he was to learn thereof by signal.
So it came to pass that in an hour and a half Thorgils and I and
Erpwald, who would by no means let me go without him, and three of
his Sussex friends, rode across the causeway to the Polden hills in
the dusk, with a matter of six score men behind us, well armed and
mounted all--for these borderers have need to keep horse and arms
of the best, and those ever ready.
From the ealdorman's door Elfrida watched us go very bravely, and
the glimmer of her white dress was the lodestar that kept the eyes
of her lover turned backward while it might be seen. It vanished
suddenly, and he heaved a deep sigh, and I knew that she had been
fain to watch no longer lest her tears should be seen.
As we went along the Polden ridge we met flying men, and men who
came to the levy, and by twos and threes we added to our little
force, until we had a full hundred more than when we started.
Thorgils took us to a tidal ford that crosses the Parrett River far
below any bridge, which he thought would not yet be watched by the
Welsh. There is a steep hill fort that covers this ford, but on it
were no fires as of an outpost yet. Then we were a matter of eight
miles from the great camp on the highest ridge of the Quantocks
which we had to take, and we had ridden five-and-twenty miles. I
was glad that we had to wait an hour or more for the fall of the
tide before we could cross, for we rode fast thus far.
So we dismounted and watched the slow fall of the water, and we
planned what we would do presently; until at last we splashed
through the muddy ford, and rode on through dense forest land until
the great camp rose above us, a full thousand feet skyward, and we
saw the glow of the watch fires of those who held it. It seemed
almost impossible to scale this hill as we looked on its slope in
the darkness, but we reached its foot where the hill is steepest,
and held on northward yet, until we came to where there is a long
steady rise up to the very gate of the earthworks.
Now there should have been an outpost halfway along this slope
toward the camp, for whatever tribe of the Britons made the
stronghold had not forgotten to raise a little fort for one. But we
were in luck, for this outpost was not held, and we rode past it,
and knew that there was every chance now of our fairly surprising
the camp. The first grey of dawn was coming when I passed the word
to the men to close up, and told them what we were to do.
"We charge through the earthworks, for there is no barrier across
the gate, and spread out across the camp with all the noise we can.
Follow a flight for no long distance beyond the earthworks, but
scatter the Welsh."
So we rode on steadily until we were but a bow shot from the
trench, and yet no alarm was raised, for the foe watched hardly at
all, deeming that no Saxon force would think of crossing where we
crossed the river, or of coming on them from the north at all.
Then Thorgils and I and Erpwald rode forward, and I gave the word
to charge, and up the long smooth slope we went at the gallop, with
a heavy thunder of hoofs on the firm turf of the ancient track. And
that thunder was the first sign that the Welsh knew of our coming.
I saw one come to the gateway and look, and then with a wild howl
throw himself into the outer ditch for safety, and the camp roared
with the alarm, and the dim white figures flocked to the rampart,
and through a storm of ill-aimed arrows we rode through the
unguarded gate and were on them.
"Ahoy!--Out, out!--Holy Cross!"
The war shouts of Norseman and South Saxon and Wessex men were in
startling medley together here, and that terrified the Welsh yet
more. It must have seemed to them that the Norsemen had called
unheard of allies to their help. There was no order or rallying
power among them.
We three were first through the gateway, and then we were riding
across the camp with levelled spears, over men and through the
fires, and a panic fell on the foe, so that without waiting to see
what our numbers were, in headlong terror they fled from the charge
over the ramparts and into the forests in the valleys on either
side beyond whence we came. I had no fear of their rallying thence
to any effect, for it would take them all their time to find their
leaders in the combes and the thick undergrowth that clothed their
sides. Once out of the camp, too, they could not see into it to
tell how few we were.
I suppose that there were some five hundred Welsh in the place. I
do not think that we harmed many of them in the hurry and the dark,
but we scared them terribly. Here and there one rolled under the
horses' hoofs, and we paid no heed to such as fell thus, and they
rose again and fled the faster. All but one, that is, so far as I
was concerned. I charged a man, and my spear missed him as he leapt
aside, and he struck at my horse as I passed him, and the next
moment I was rolling on the ground with the good steed, and the man
behind me had to leap over us as we lay. That was one of the Sussex
thanes, and he was no mean horseman or unready, luckily. Then he
chased my enemy out of the camp, and came back to see if I were
hurt. But I was not, and I bade him go on with the rest. We were
almost across the camp at this time.
"Take my horse rather," he said. "See, there is a bit of a stand
being made yonder."
There were yet some valiant and cooler-headed Welshmen whom the
panic had not carried away, and they were getting together to our
right. The camp was full three hundred paces across, and as we
spread over it our line had gaps here and there, so that some at
least had seen what our numbers were. They had passed into the camp
again over the earthworks, or had been passed by in the place by
us, and they were gathering round one who wore the crested helm and
gilded arms of a chief, and he was raving at the cowards who had
left him. Even now he had not more than a score of men with him.
Our men were chasing the flying foe across the open hilltop now,
outside the camp, and there were but few left within its enclosure,
though I saw the dim forms of some who were turning back without
going beyond the rampart, and one of these was Erpwald. He also saw
the group of Welshmen, and called the other horsemen to him, and
even as the chief saw us two standing alone together, and led his
few toward us, the shout of the four or five who charged with my
friend stayed them, and they closed up to meet the new attack.
Then the Sussex thane, whose name was Algar, saw this, and again
urged me to take his horse, saying that it was not fitting for the
leader to be dismounted while work was yet in hand; but I saw a
thing that bade me forget him, and set me running at full speed
toward the Welshmen. Erpwald had ridden well ahead of his comrades,
and as his spear crossed those of the foe one of them stepped
forward before his chief and made a sweeping blow at the legs of
the horse with a long pole-axe. Down the horse came, and Erpwald
flew over its head into the midst of the enemy, overthrowing one or
two of them as if he had been a stone from a sling.
In a moment they closed over him, but I was there before they could
get clear of one another to slay him. I cut my way through the
turmoil before they knew I was on them, and stood over him sword in
hand, while the Welsh shrank back for a space with the suddenness
of my coming. There was Algar also hewing at them and trying to
reach my side, having dismounted, and those who followed Erpwald
were on them with their long spears. It was more as a shouting than
a fight for a moment or two, but Erpwald never moved, being
stunned, as it seemed. It was like to go hard with me for a time,
for my men could not reach me. Still, I held the Welsh back from
Erpwald and myself.
There was a great shout of "Ahoy," and I saw from beyond the ring
round me the rise and fall of a broad axe, and then Thorgils was at
my back, and close behind him was Evan. More of our men were coming
up fast to where they heard the noise; but the foe were minded to
make a good fight of it, and only to yield when there was no shame
in doing so.
"It is no bad thing to have a good axe at one's back," quoth
Thorgils in a gruff shout between his war cries as he hewed, and
with that I heard the said axe crash on a foe again.
Then I had the chief before me, and his men fell back a little to
make way for him to me. Our swords crossed, and I took his first
thrust fairly on the shield and returned it, wounding him a little,
and he set his teeth and flew at me, point foremost, with the
deadly thrust of the Roman weapon. That the shield met again, and I
struck out over his guard and he went down headlong. And at that
his men made a wild rush on me, yelling. At that time I saw
Thorgils, with a great smile on his face, smite one man to his
right with the axe edge, and another on his left with the blunt
back of the weapon as he swung it round, and Evan saved me from a
man who was coming on me from behind. That is all I know of the
fight, save that it seemed that I heard some cry for quarter, for
of a sudden I went down across Erpwald for no reason that I could
tell.
It was full daylight when I came round, and the first thing that my
eyes lit on was the broad face of Erpwald, who sat by my side with
a woebegone look that changed suddenly to a great grin when he saw
me stir and look at him. Then I saw Evan also watching me, with his
arm tied up, and I was fain to laugh at his solemn face of trouble.
Whereon from somewhere behind me Thorgils cried in his great
seafaring voice:
"There now, what did I tell you two owls? His head is too hard to
mind a bit of a knock like that."
Then he came and laughed at me, and I asked what sent me over.
"The pole-axe man hit you with the flat of his unhandy weapon. It
is lucky for you that he was a bungler, however, for there is a
sore dint in your helm."
I sat up and looked round the camp. There was a knot of captives in
its midst, among whom was the chief I had fought, wounded, indeed,
but not badly, and our men were eating the enemy's provender and
laughing. A fire of green brushwood and heather was sending a tall
pillar of smoke into the air to tell the watchers on the Poldens
and at Watchet that we had done what we came to do. But here we had
to stay till we heard from Ina that we were to join him, and for
Erpwald's sake and Elfrida's I was not sorry.
He had seen his first fight, and nearly found his end therein. I do
not know how I could have looked Elfrida in the face again had he
indeed risen no more from that medley. But I thought that he made
more than enough of my coming to his rescue. It was only a matter
of holding back a crowd till help came.
"All very well to put it in that way, comrade," said Thorgils; "but
where does my axe come in? You are not fair, for, by Thor's hammer,
Erpwald, both of you had been mincemeat but for that."
"Nay," said I, laughing; "you and I were those who held back the
crowd. I could not have done it alone."
"But you did, though," the Norseman answered at once.
"Nevertheless, it was as well that I happened up in good time."
Now we rode across the nearer hills until we could see into the
fair valley which men call Taunton Deane since those days, and we
saw the answering fires which told us that all was well at Watchet,
for we had saved the little town. Not until Gerent learned how few
we were here would he dare to divide his forces. Far off to the
southward in the valley we could see the blue reek of his
campfires, and it would seem that he had not yet moved on the
Wessex border.
All the day we waited and watched, anxious and restless, but no
attack came on us here, and the smoke of the camp grew no thinner
at Norton. A few Norsemen rode up to us from Watchet, and they said
that no move was on hand yet, so far as they could tell. And at
last, as the sun was setting, and shone level on the slope of the
Poldens, above which the Tor of Glastonbury sent a waving wreath of
smoke into the air to bid Wessex gather against the ancient foe, we
saw the long line of sparkling helms and spear points as our host
marched from hill to causeway to the bridge that spans the Parrett.
Ina would hold the heights above Norton before morning.
But that made it the more needful that we should bide here till we
were sent for, seeing that we guarded the flank of our advance; and
hard it was to sit still and do it, with a battle pending yonder.
It was a long night to us, and hungry.
Early in the next morning there was heavy smoke on these hills that
told of burning on the line of our march, and there was more away
toward the far Blackdown hills, as if there were trouble beyond
Tone. And in the afternoon there fell a strange stillness on the
woods round us, and I wondered. There was never a buzzard or kite,
raven or crow, left in all the woodland, and then I minded that
overhead lately the birds of prey had all flown in one direction,
and that toward where Norton lay.
It was the cry of the kite and the voice of the songbirds that I
missed. The birds of prey had gone, and in the cover their little
quarry cowered in fear of the shadow of the broad wings which had
crossed them so often. Even now two of the great sea eagles were
sailing inland, and from these strange signs we knew for certain
that yonder a battlefield was spread for them, where Saxon and
Welsh strove for mastery in the fair valley. But we must pace the
hill crest, silent and moody, waiting for some sign that might tell
us of victory.
That came at last in the late afternoon. Slowly there gathered,
over the trees where Norton was, a haze that thickened into a
smoke, and that grew into heavy dun clouds which rose and drifted
even to the hilltops, for Norton was burning, and by that token we
knew that Ina was victor.
Presently there were flying men of the Welsh who could be seen on
the open hillsides, and some few came even up to this camp, and we
took them, and from them heard how the battle had gone. It had been
a terrible battle, from their account, but they knew little more
than that, and that they were beaten. I suppose that Ina thought it
best for us to hold this camp for the night, for here we bided,
chafing somewhat; and but for what we took from the Welsh, hungry,
until early morning. Then at last a mounted messenger came to us,
and we went to Norton.
There, indeed, was high praise waiting for us from Ina, for it
seemed that our work had checked the advance of Gerent, and had
given time for full gathering of the levies before he was over the
border. But now I learnt that there was another Welsh army in the
field, beyond the Tone River, and until we heard how it fared with
the Dorset levies in that direction it was doubtful if we might
hold that all was well yet. Gerent had not set everything on this
one attack, but had also marched on Langport across the Blackdown
hills. Thither Nunna had led what men he could be spared, and was
to meet the Dorset levies, whose ealdorman, Sigebald, had sent word
to Glastonbury, soon after I left there, to tell of this attack.
In the late evening there were beacon fires on the Blackdown hills,
and a great one on the camp at Neroche which crowns and guards the
hills in that direction. And so presently through the dusk one rode
into Norton with word of the greatest battle that Wessex had fought
since men could remember, for Nunna had met the foe on the way to
Langport, and at last, after a mighty struggle which had long
seemed doubtful, had swept them back across the hills whence they
came, in full flight homeward. So there was full victory for
Wessex, but we had to pay a heavy price therefor. Nunna had fallen
in the hour of triumph, and Sigebald, the ealdorman, was lost to
Dorset also.
Presently we laid Nunna in his mound on the Blackdown hills where
he had fallen. There he bides as the foremost of Saxon leaders in
the new land we had won, and I do not think that it is an unfitting
place for such a one as he. It is certain that so long as a Wessex
man who minds the deeds of his fathers is left the name of Nunna
will be held in honour with that of the king; his kinsman.