THE BATTLE BY TRENT WATER
But a few days later king Penda’s host was ready and they marched
eastwards from the town of Lichfield, where Penda was then staying,
intending to cross the Trent water below Nottingham, which stood beside
the forest of Sherwood. And soon king Sigmund knew of Penda’s coming and
started out to meet him, with all his strength, and thinking to fall
upon him before he reached Trent, marched west from Lindum city, then,
crossing the river, turned southwards through the forest. But Penda
learnt of his coming, and in the night time hastening on with swiftness,
took up a strong position below the high banks which skirt the river
to the east a little below Nottingham. There he hid his men among the
woods on the banks above, and mid the broom on the plain below, leaving
the lowlands to the westward free to the Lindeseymen. And Feargus was
in great sorrow at finding himself of the party. And through the day
there was no stir or sound amongst all that great host. At length towards
evening they beheld the banners of their foes. Then the Mercians sprung
to life, and they filled all the narrow plain that lay between the
cliffs and the river with foot, and the left wing with the horse under
Osbert marched south hoping to reach the rear, ready to ford the stream
and attack the Lindeseymen from the west and so drive them in upon the
archers and footmen of Feargus and Wulfere, who, hidden by the wood and
brambles, lined all the cliffs on the east side of Trent. In the narrow
plain below, opposite the ford, stood Penda, commanding the centre and
waiting without movement the coming of Sigmund. Soon the plain to the
north and west was filled with a great array of foot and horsemen, and
when Feargus beheld them from his post on the cliff his heart fluttered
and he forgot his troubles a while, for he was in very soul a warrior
and the sight of that armed host was like strong wine to him. Sigmund
had meanwhile sent a large party of bowmen across the river to hold the
cliffs. Feargus thereupon called to Wulfere to command the bowmen, while
he gathered his foot and went out to meet the foe, seeing that the men
who must decide this battle were in his hand. The enemy below being now
within bowshot, the bowmen of Wulfere sent a shower of arrows forth such
as astonished those men of Lindesey; for till now they had seen no sign
of life in the wood or anywhere but in front of them, where fluttered the
banner of Penda. And they marched on, their ranks falling in whole lines
before the terrible arrows, which flew from the very cliffs which Sigmund
had sent the flower of his army to win, thinking that the Mercians had
only just arrived. Still the white-haired Penda sat motionless upon his
beast and took no note of the weak reply that was made to them by the
archers Sigmund had kept with him. Then suddenly a great cry arose in
the rear of Sigmund’s army, as the horsemen of Osbert, who had worked
round to their flank from the south, fell upon them, followed by many
companies of foot. Sigmund looked anxiously to where his bow and footmen
should be, on the cliff, but at that moment the Picts under Feargus, with
Welsh from Wales, and Welsh also who still dwelt in Mercia, and with the
famous British bowmen of Arden and the Warwickshire woodlands under king
Penda, and many English, burst out from the woods; and they drove the
Lindeseymen before them like sheep, so fiercely and suddenly they leapt
forth. Then was the heather blood bedewed, and the golden broom turned to
red, and ever the Picts and Welsh pushed on and the men of Sigmund held
back, till at last they were driven over the cliffs, and Feargus sent the
Welsh after them down the bank, they being lightest of foot. And they
beat them down towards the plain below where was king Sigmund. And the
arrows of the Mercians darkened the very lift, and Penda himself had now
moved on against the king, and when he beheld him Sigmund was adread, and
his warriors stood still; for all men went in fear of Penda. Then Sigmund
saw his men driven down from the cliffs to the north-east before the
dread cry “Albanich! Albanich!” and he knew that there were Feargus and
his Picts. And still he cried, “On, on!” but little room was there left
for sword play on that narrow strath by the great river, for the press of
the men driven in by Feargus on the east and by Osbert on the west became
so great that friend struck friend unwittingly, and no man had room to
ply his arms. King Sigmund down in the glen now saw that all was lost,
and he wound his horn that those who could might escape, and himself,
with many good footmen, held the ford against the centre of the Mercian
host led by Penda. Slowly but grimly Sigmund gave back, step by step,
until many of his bowmen had gained the west side of Trent water, and
then all that remained plunged into the river and fled towards the forest
with the king. And shouts of “Kill, kill!” arose from the Mercians and,
like dogs let loose, they broke their ranks and fell upon the fugitives.
Then Feargus wound his horn and strove to stay the slaughter, but little
sense had the most of them left; they were drunk with blood, and only his
own men gathered around him. And the rush of the Lindeseymen was ever
towards Lindum, their city; some fled through the forest there to ford
the stream, and some turned east and made their way into the fens, and
the Mercians followed those that fled through the forest and those that
fled up the east bank of Trent. Feargus’s thoughts were for Torfrida and
to save Sigmund, if it might be. Seeing that Penda had kept together a
great body of men about him and was safe from surprise, Feargus horsed
as many of his followers as he could find beasts for, and the rest held
each a stirrup and ran with them afoot. The chase lasted till midnight
when they came within sight of Sigmund’s city of Lincoln or Lindum, which
stood high on a great hill; but already the Mercians were at its gates;
some had scaled the walls and some were in fight with the fugitives as
they came up. Riding hard across the plain below, Feargus saw fire burst
from one of the ports; a great shout followed, and now all the sky was
filled with flames and smoke and myriads of sparks; for a moment the men
slackened their speed, awe-stricken, at the savage sight. Feargus saw
that the town had fallen, and, leaving his men behind, dashed on like a
madman. When he neared the gate the fire lighted up the bloody hands and
faces of the besiegers, flushed with drink and victory, and he shuddered
as he beheld them—little mercy would king or lady get from these men,
and, spurring his horse, he burst through the press, and when they heard
his cry, “Albanich! Albanich!” they made way, though with curses at
being turned from their prey. Through the burning town he rode; one or
two tried to stay him, but he dashed them fiercely aground, and at last
drew up by the hall of Sigmund. Here the press was thicker, and he saw
the door was down and the drunken rout were in; and coarse jests and
oaths and shrieks filled the air. Then Feargus sprang from his beast and
burst in, crying, “Back, back!” but the soldiers heeded him not, and one
even turned and struck him. Now a giant was Feargus, his red head stood
out a full span above the dark-haired Britons of Arden forest and the
pale-haired English of the towns, and he laid hold of him who struck, by
the waist, and lightly tossed him out through the open door, and then,
not wishing to slay any, seized an oaken staff and dealt blows right and
left; each one he struck was quickly sobered and asked for no more. At
length he gained the hall. There he found the Mercians gathered also, but
he burst through them to the king’s chamber where he beheld Sigmund’s
youngest son, Edwy, with half-a-dozen stalwart thanes. At his feet lay
his two brothers, dead; while behind, crouching to the floor, her hands
clasped in prayer and her knees wet with the blood of the slain, was
Torfrida. Hard bestead were those brave Lindeseymen, and wounded and sore
with fighting; before them were many Mercian thanes, while others tried
to force a way in at the door. These Feargus roughly seized and thrust to
right and left until he won in.
“Stay, Mercians,” he shouted to the combatants, but they heeded him not,
and so, pushing one away, he stepped to the side of Edwy and drew his
sword, shouting, “I am your captain: stand back, Mercians!”
Then, seeing who it was that bid them, they forbore.
“Enough killing have ye done this day,” said he. Then, speaking to Edwy,
he pledged his safety; so Edwy submitted, he and the thanes, as his
prisoners. Feargus turned to Torfrida, but she had fainted; so he lifted
her and carried her out into the air, for the building was all aflame,
and they followed. At the gate Feargus found Duncan, his captain and many
of his men seeking him, and he sent round and gathered the rest, with
many English and Welsh who loved him, and they placed the prisoners in
their midst and rode towards Penda’s land. As they went they found that
the more part of the city had been burnt by the Mercians; and Feargus was
heavy-hearted for Torfrida’s kin, and his conscience pricked him for the
slaying of so many Christians. And no man knew whence king Sigmund had
departed.
Now it chanced that Penda had been told of the love of Feargus for
Torfrida, by Osbert, his enemy; and, though the king loved Feargus much,
he felt anger against him, and Osbert had even advised him secretly to
seize the Pict. So when Penda learnt from the thanes who had slain her
two brethren, of the saving of Torfrida and Edwy by Feargus, he sent for
the prisoners, and ordered Torfrida to be imprisoned and the boy Edwy and
his thanes to be slain. When Feargus heard of this he hied him to Penda
and stood up, and said he—
“O king Penda, sore have we wrought against Sigmund and his kin, and
many men of his have we slain, little boots it to slay this boy or the
faithful thanes who fought for him, in cold blood. Right well they
wrought and soldierly against thy thanes, but an unsoldierly death
wouldst thou deal to them; oh, never will the light of day seem fair to
thy captain Feargus if the blood of these warriors stains the sword of
his king. Doth the conqueror of Edwin, and Oswald, and Sigeberht, and
Ceanwealh, and Sigmund need the blood of a boy who hath only once wielded
war brand?”
“I have spoken,” said the king; “thou art over bold.”
Then said Feargus again, “Call me not so, king Penda; never canst thou
mean that this boy must die and no greater thing against him than that he
was ready to stand up fighting to the last, as though he had been in full
manhood.”
“That surely I mean.”
“Then, O king, for the fellowship that is between us give not thy hand
to this work, for not only will it hurt me—for the Albanich war not on
children—but thee, also, will it hurt before the eyes of all the world.”
“I have said, and thou and all here have but to obey, and there are few,
as thou wottest, who would have dared, as thou hast, to look askance at
what I do; but ware thee lest thou carriest this thing too far, and keep
well thy tongue. These and all the enemies of Odin shall die.”
“Thou hast gained a victory over Sigmund and great will thy praise be,
and I, though no kin of thine, in payment of thy teaching for years past,
have done something to get thee that victory and many more besides like
to it, yet thou wilt not grant me so little a boon as this boy’s life and
this maiden’s liberty, even though as thou wottest they are Albanich by
the mother’s side, if not of my tribe.”
“Get thee hence,” roared the king, “thou art forgetting thyself; hence
and stay till I send for thee: hence, I say!”