their excitement, they called out to Beornwulf to revenge himself. But
Ceolwulf parried every blow, and called out that the victory was his.
He was very anxious the combat should have a speedy termination, for he
did not wish to kill his opponent, foreseeing that if he did his
position and that of Wulfstan would be rendered much more unpleasant,
and he naturally had no wish to be killed himself. While all were
excited at the contest a voice suddenly called out, "Why, men, what is
all this to do? Haven't ye work enough in hand to-night that ye must
needs be splitting each other's heads now?"
All turned round astonished, and a universal cry of "Caedwalla!" told
Wulfstan that his handsome friend of the morning was among them.
*CHAPTER IV.*
*THE SURPRISE.*
The arrival of Caedwalla put an end to the combat, to the great joy of
Wulfstan, who ran up to Ceolwulf with eager congratulations.
"I knew that fellow couldn't do thee any harm, Biggun; he didn't know
thee as well as I do, or he wouldn't have dared to stand up to thee; but
I am glad thou gavest it him as thou didst."
"Aye, Wulf, they will respect us all the more after this. I thought I
should give him a good trouncing," said Ceolwulf complacently.
"Why, whom have we here?" cried Caedwalla, now for the first time seeing
Ceolwulf and Wulfstan. "Why, it's the old greybeard I met this morning,
and the stout little son of AElfhere! And what art thou doing here?"
The whole of the circumstances were quickly narrated to him, and,
patting Wulfstan on the head, he told him he should make him one of his
Huscarles, or body-guard, which delighted the boy much. He reproved
Beornwulf for being so quarrelsome, and advised old Ceolwulf not to call
people "nithings" again, or worse would come of it. As it had turned
out he had drawn Beornwulf's blood first, and therefore, according to
the laws of the Holmgang, or duel, Beornwulf ought to pay the fine of
the conquered; but, considering how great a provocation Ceolwulf had
given, he should decide that the two were now quits, and there the
matter had better end. "And now, my men, we must be up and doing. I
have learnt that the greater part of Edilwalch's men have gone with the
two eorldomen to Kent, and the king is spending the night at
Cissanceaster; we are now about six miles off, and it will take us till
near midnight to get there and arrange our plans. Beornwulf, as thou art
wounded, thou hadst best take this boy back to his brother at Boseham,
and take care of him until I come. Bid the monks treat him well, or, by
Freja, I will skin the shavelings; but they are good men," he added,
"and will do that without my bidding. And as to thee, old man, thou
hadst best take Beornwulf's place, and make good the damage thou hast
done. And now, men, fall in. Athelhune, you will take command of the
rear, I will lead the advance, and do thou, old man, take Beornwulf's
arms and give him thine to take back to Boseham; after to-night I trust
thou wilt have some of thine own, or else that there will be no want of
any. Remember all of ye that in worsting Edilwalch we are winning a
victory for Wessex, and each victory for Wessex is a step towards my
rightful crown. Ye have feasted on the flesh of the wild boar which
Woden has put before ye as an omen of victory; remember the sagas, and
how he who dies in battle will feast for ever on Saehrimnir the Eternal,
and quaff mead from the never-dying Heidrun, and shall for ever and for
ever hack his enemies in pieces. Who would not rather go there than
live here? But to obtain honour there we must kill our enemies here,
and the more we kill, the greater our joy hereafter. Up, men, and earn
an undying name!"
Excited by this speech, and eager for the fray, each warrior clashed his
axe against his shield, and the wild din caused the birds, that were
going to roost, to fly screaming out of the branches, and scared the
beasts of the forest in their distant lair.
"See, the wild ravens there,
Woden's wild birds of air,
Call us to Nastrond's fare,
Call us to battle!"
shouted a warrior, whose eyes glowed with the joy of approaching fight.
"Hark to the wolves' wild cry,
Baying towards the sky,
Knowing the prey is nigh,
Hearing death's rattle!"
cried another answering, tossing his battle-axe high in the air, and
catching it again; for every warrior who wished to be distinguished
affected a talent for verse, and all leaders who desired fame surrounded
themselves with "Skalds," or gleemen, as they were called, who should
proclaim their doughty deeds.
Wulfstan longed to go with the expedition, but Caedwalla would not hear
of it, and he was sent off with Beornwulf, both sulky at their
dismissal, but Beornwulf especially enraged, and vowing vengeance on
Ceolwulf when he got the chance.
"Never mind, Beorney, thou canst practice fighting with the monks, they
won't hurt thee," shouted some of the young men.
"And thou canst throw stones at the seals, they won't run away," called
another, as they went off laughing; while Beornwulf, grinding his teeth
with rage, and having no retort ready, disappeared with Wulfstan in the
direction of Boseham.
The others directed their march through the forest towards
Cissanceaster, proceeding at a rapid pace; all noise had now ceased, and
each man settled down to his step with the air of men accustomed to long
expeditions, and who all knew their business thoroughly. Ceolwulf
wished much his master AElfhere had had a few dozen men like these the
night before, and he hoped if he could only induce Caedwalla to take up
the cause of his young lords, that they might recover their lands and
revenge themselves on Arwald; he had seen therefore Wulfstan go off with
Beornwulf less reluctantly than he otherwise would have done.
The sun had set, and the mists of the forest rendered it a difficult
matter to see their way, but Caedwalla led them on without pausing or
appearing to be once in doubt as to which way to go. After they had
gone on in almost absolute silence for about a couple of miles they came
to a circular clearing in the forest; in the centre of this clearing was
a large stone, and Caedwalla went up to it, and, raising his battle-axe
aloft, chanted the following verses:--
"To Woden, great god, I vow
Victims to slay enow
If he to us allow
Victory to-night.
Here in the forest glade,
Under the oaks' dark shade,
On my keen axe's blade,
Oaths do I plight.
By the last earthly pang
Men felt as high priests sang
When the wild death-cry rang
Speeding souls' flight.
Grant us to win the fight!
Grant us death's fires to light!
Favour the cause of right!
Woden, all bright!"
Again the dull clang of the axes striking against the shields gave token
of the warriors' assent, and, once more putting himself at the head of
his men, Caedwalla pursued his march in silence. That grim stone in the
solemn forest ring had seen many a horrid sacrifice, and had been
stained with the blood of many victims long before the Saxons or the
Romans came into the Island; and if any places could be haunted that
surely ought to have been, considering the horrors that had taken place
there, the cruel and detestable custom of offering human sacrifices
being common to Teuton and Celt alike.
And now it was clear, from the extreme care the advance guard took not
to make any noise, that they were approaching the object of their
expedition. After a few minutes more the column halted, and Caedwalla
directed the band to divide into four equal companies. He then ordered
three of them to march round the dim cluster of houses, or cottages
rather, which were scarcely distinguishable in a clearing of the forest,
which had been getting less dense for the last mile or two. Caedwalla
ordered Athelhune to take command of the company that had farthest to
go, and bid them raise the battle-cry, and clash their axes and shields
together as soon as they were ready for the attack. At this signal all
were to fall on and slay whom they met. Caedwalla reserved for himself
the right of attacking Edilwalch, and directed that such prisoners as
should be taken should be brought to the altar of sacrifice, and there
be offered up to Woden and the shades of their ancestors.
Silently in the darkness of the night the men disappeared, and Caedwalla
led his party cautiously and in single file closer to the village. As
they got nearer Ceolwulf could make out that the work before them was
rather more formidable than a mere night surprise on a cluster of
undefended houses. Before him was a wall about twelve feet high and a
ditch outside the wall. Supposing none were on the wall to oppose them
it would not be a serious obstacle to active and resolute men; but
should there be a determined foe behind it, the assault would be a
serious affair. Caedwalla ordered a young man to creep as close up to
the wall as he could, and then, if all were favourable, to climb up it
and reconnoitre the place. Ceolwulf could see that there was a gate a
little further to the right of where they were, but he concluded that
this would probably be guarded, and that was why Caedwalla had not
selected it for attack.
Stealthily the figure descended the bank of the ditch; they could just
hear the sloshing sound made by his feet as he got into the mud, then a
slight splashing, sounding to those listening very loud, then silence,
which was suddenly broken by a wild, unearthly cry, causing them all to
start, and they could hear the young man slip down, and then the
splashing sounds were repeated, and soon after he appeared.
"Well, what was it?" impatiently asked Caedwalla.
"A witch!" said the young man, shuddering. "I saw her eyes of fire
glaring at me, and I heard her spit--listen!"
Again the strange cry rang out, ending in a kind of sputtering snarl.
"Why, man, it's only a cat! Art afraid of a cat? Here, Eadwin, I can
trust to thee; go thou and see if any one is on the other side."
But these young men, all as brave as lions in fight, firmly believed in
supernatural powers, and nothing terrified them more than the idea of
witches and demons; and when they heard that their comrade had seen a
great witch, all covered with fur and a long streaming broomstick
wrapped round with bristles flourishing above her head, and glaring,
fiery eyes staring right at him and uttering fearful cries, which they
had all heard, not one was daring enough to go.
"Out upon ye, men, for a pack of spiritless hinds!" cried Caedwalla,
disdainfully. "I shall have to go myself; but, mind, as soon as ye hear
me call, or the signal from Athelhune is given, up with ye, witches or
no witches, or ye will go to Nifleheim quicker than ye like."
He was just starting to go on the perilous work when he felt his arm
held, and the voice of Ceolwulf arrested him.
"Atheling, I will go, I have no fear of witches; I have a wolf's snout
hung round my neck, and no witch can hurt me, be her charms never so
powerful."
"Well, old man, thou teachest these boys a lesson; a stranger and an old
man, thou darest what my carles, young and bound to me by every tie,
dare not. When I am king of Wessex, as I shall be, I will not forget
thee. Here's my hand on it."
Cautiously old Ceolwulf went down into the ditch, and again the sounds
of his progress seemed dangerously loud, then silence, broken by the
wild din of shouting and the clash of arms which suddenly arose.
"There it is," cried Caedwalla, rushing forward, followed by the men
behind him. "Strike for the golden dragon! Strike for the house of
Cerdic! The Valkyrior claim their own! Tyr scents the battle."
Shouting wildly such war cries, the band plunged into the ditch,
splashed through it, and dashed at the wall. Old Ceolwulf had by this
time got to the top, and, kneeling down, he helped Caedwalla up. The
two sprang boldly down into the open space inside scattering a party of
cats[1] that rushed screaming, with their tails in the air, towards the
nearest houses. Caedwalla instantly seized the omen, and shouted:
"See how the witches fly,
Scared by our battle-cry,
Follow to do or die,
Follow Caedwalla!"
[1] These domestic cats were most probably the descendants of some which
had accompanied the Roman colonists. The native wild cat is untamable.
And now an answering cry arose within the town. Lights flashed here and
there, and all seemed confusion. Shouts of defiance could be heard on
all sides, showing that the attack was completely successful as far as
simultaneousness of action went. The difficulty was to avoid attacking
each other. Caedwalla made for the nearest house, and, smashing in the
door with his axe, cut down the first man that came to meet him. The
terrified women and children rushed out by a back door, and Caedwalla
instantly called for some straw to be brought him, and, lighting it from
the fire that was burning on the hearth, soon set the cottage in a
blaze. The flames spread from one building to another, and the
affrighted inhabitants rushed out into the street screaming in terror.
The followers of Caedwalla cut down all the men that offered any
resistance, but pursued their way to the palace of the king. Edilwalch
was now aware of what was happening, and having hastily armed himself,
accompanied by a few devoted adherents, rushed out to meet his
assailants.
The other bands had not yet made their appearance, and the position of
Caedwalla was rather critical. His little party only numbered fourteen
in all, and although the flames of the burning houses, which were all
made of wood and thatched, allowed him to see where to direct his
attack, yet they at the same time served to expose the fewness of his
numbers. Edilwalch was no coward. He was fully alive to the importance
of crushing this handful of men before the others, whose battle-cries
could be heard drawing nearer and nearer, could join their companions;
and, leaving a few men to guard the palace--which was no more than a
rather larger house than the other cottages, and thatched like them--he
shouted his battle-cry, and attacked Caedwalla's party. Nominally
Edilwalch was a Christian, having been christened at the request of
Wulfhere of Mercia, and had received the Isle of Wight as a reward for
his conversion. His battle-cry, therefore, should have been different
to that of Caedwalla, but in his excitement he forgot his new faith, and
invoked the Teutonic deities to his aid.
The first to encounter Edilwalch was Eadwine, who was anxious to show
his leader that if he was afraid of witches he was not afraid of men.
But the voice of Caedwalla shouted to him to remember his orders, and
Eadwine turned aside to attack a stout eorldoman who fought by the side
of Edilwalch. Down came his axe at the headpiece of his foe, who parried
it with his shield, and struck furiously back at Eadwine. The blow was
given with such good will that it shore away his shield above the elbow,
and broke the arm which held it. Plying his axe vigorously with his
right arm, Eadwine gave the eorldoman a cut across the cheek, but
directly afterwards was knocked down by a terrific blow on his helmet.
Striding across his fallen antagonist, the eorldoman cut at Caedwalla,
who was engaged in vigorous fight with Edilwalch, already wounded and
giving ground; but Ceolwulf caught the blow with his axe, shivering the
handle and sending the splinters flying, one of which pierced the
eorldoman in the eye, and caused him to stagger back with the pain. But
he was not destined to feel pain long, for another crashing blow of
Ceolwulf's axe avenged the fall of Eadwine, and tumbled the South Saxon
to the ground. The fighting had now become general, and the din of
weapon striking weapon, the crash of falling buildings, the crackling of
the flames as they leaped high in air, the fierce shouts of the
combatants or the deep groans of the dying, made a wild and fearful
uproar that produced a mad intoxication in the fighting mass. High
above all rang the stentorian voice of Caedwalla as he plied his blows,
now right, now left, at the devoted body-guard of Edilwalch, who was
badly wounded, and was being led off to his palace. The small party who
fought round Caedwalla, inspirited by his wild chant and furious blows,
pressed on after the retreating king, and each of their axes seemed
endowed with ceaseless life. Several had fallen on both sides, and
fearful were the wounds made by these two-edged axes; but now the
affrighted townspeople--if the inhabitants of Cissanceaster deserved the
name at that time--seeing the small numbers of their assailants, came to
the assistance of their king, whom they did not much love, but in whose
success they saw at least safety for themselves and their families.
Caedwalla--who, in the midst of all this wild turmoil and in spite of
his personal part in the fight, never lost the presence of mind
essential to a leader--saw that unless he slew Edilwalch before the
people rallied, he would lose the whole object of the expedition,
pressed harder and harder upon those who opposed him, till at last, with
a spring, he dashed upon the group who were leading the king away. With
hair streaming behind him, his helmet battered, but the heron's plume
still erect, his eyes gleaming with wild excitement, his armour stained
with blood, and his shield in pieces, Caedwalla rushed upon the king.
One flash, one groan, and his competitor was no more. Right through the
axe of the faithful guard who tried to parry the blow the triumphant
weapon of Caedwalla sank into the brain of Edilwalch, and the king of
the South Saxons was numbered with AElla, Cissa and his ancestors. But
not unavenged shall he die, for wildly the henchmen turn upon the
slayer, and three axes gleam in the air together. Ill would it have
fared with the son of Ceawlin had not watchful eyes and stout hands been
by: axe meets axe, and blow answers blow, and the death of all the
immediate supporters of Edilwalch assures Caedwalla the victory.
But where are the other bands? Where is Athelhune? Where are the
house-carles? Where is Caedwalla's brother Wulf?
"Quick, Caedwalla, retreat while yet there is time," shouted Ceolwulf,
who saw the ominously increasing crowds of hostile faces pressing up
behind them. Their own numbers were very few. Three were lying on the
ground either dead or dying; two more were so desperately wounded that
they could hardly offer any resistance, and reeled as they stood round
Caedwalla, and only two or three had escaped without a wound.
But the chieftain's eye instantly took in the situation, and without a
moment's hesitation he ordered all to advance on the palace. He could
hear the cry of Athelhune, and at last saw by a movement among the crowd
that the other bands were coming up.
With a rush, therefore, they sprang towards the palace gate. The
defenders were few, for in the excitement of the fight round their king
the men had disregarded Edilwalch's orders, and had come out to join the
fray.
Daunted by the fierce onslaught, they fled into the interior, and
Caedwalla's men rushed in, closely followed by a yelling mass of
infuriated townspeople. But two of Caedwalla's men kept these at bay
until the doors were shut.
The position now was somewhat curious. Edilwalch was killed, and
Caedwalla occupied his palace--at least some part of it--and was himself
besieged in his enemy's stronghold; but in the rear of his assailants he
could hear his own men pressing up, and he had little doubt of the
victory in the end.
But now Caedwalla was to feel the effects of that element he had invoked
to his own aid. A stifling smoke rolling through the rooms where he and
his party had taken refuge told them that the house was on fire, and the
shrieks of terrified women behind them showed how far it had spread, and
how useless it was to seek for shelter by going further into the house.
"There is no help for it, my men--our safety lies in our own hands.
With them let us hew us out a path; we cannot fight with fire. I hear
the shout of Wulf, my brother, and Athelhune is pressing on. Let us all
make ready; the moment I give the word and the door is opened, rush out
upon the yelling curs. Are ye all ready? Throw open the gate. Follow
me!" and with a fierce shout of fury the eight desperate men sprang upon
the mob.
Then once more began the wild cut and thrust. Scarcely one of
Caedwalla's men had any of his shield left. Regardless of their own
safety, they now only thought of selling their lives as dearly as
possible, and each man hewed and stabbed, and struggled, and pushed in
the seething, furious crowd. Woe to him who fell! there was no hope of
his ever rising again.
All the while the shout of Athelhune's men grew nearer, and the flames
of the burning palace waxed hotter and hotter, and the whole place and
scene resembled Pandemonium let loose. Shrieking women, with
dishevelled hair, stood on the outskirts of the mass, and as they saw
their friends fall, seized them by their limbs, and tried to pull them
out of the fray. But nearer and nearer came Caedwalla's bands, until,
with a wild rush and shout of triumph, they burst through the men who
were opposing them, and, cutting through the crowd that thronged about
their chieftain, rescued him from his perilous position.
They had not come a moment too soon. Caedwalla's axe was broken; he had
received a cut across his arm; not a bit of his shield was left but a
small piece to which the thong was attached that served to strap it on:
his heron crest was shorn off; and his right arm was stiff and weary
with the fight. Ceolwulf was wounded, and not a man but had some hurt,
and the heat from the burning palace behind was growing unendurable. At
Caedwalla's feet lay the dead body of Edilwalch, and around lay heaped
up the bodies of the slain. Truly, the feast for the Valkyrior maidens
was enough.
[Illustration: Caedwalla heweth a way out of a burning palace of
Edilwalch]
When the men of Cissanceaster saw the companies of Caedwalla now all
united, they drew off, and stood sullenly looking at the carnage they
had made, or else went off to put out the fires which were blazing
around them, or to see that no more houses took fire.
Then Caedwalla, seeing that none had any longer a mind for the fight,
stepped forward, and, addressing the inhabitants, said:
"Men of Cissanceaster, and all good South Saxon folk, I came not to war
with ye. Ye are all my kith and kin, and I would rule ye as well as my
ancestors did; but Edilwalch, who lies here dead, revolted, as ye all
know, from the kindly sway of my kinsmen, and joined the enemies of my
race and yours, the tyrannous Mercians. Would ye prefer Mercia to
Wessex? the wicked Penda[2] and his son, with their many deeds of
bloodshed, to the wise Ceawlin and his noble descendants? If ye prefer
war, here am I, and my faithful followers; our arms are not yet weary,
nor is our soul yet low; let us decide the issue now. If any claim the
crown for Edilwalch or his descendants, either I will fight any man
single-handed, or we will choose man for man and fight it out, and Woden
shall choose the victor. Shall we be friends or foes?"
[2] Penda died in the flight from Winwidfield A.D. 655, but the memory
of his power and ruthlessness remained long after him.
A low murmur of applause greeted this speech, and Caedwalla went on:
"If, my friends, ye prefer peace, and think enough hail has fallen to
Woden, and the Valkyrior should rest appeased, let us then ratify our
friendship and our rule by feasting. Bring us here such food as ye
have, and we will sup together, and drink to the brave slain who are now
entering Valhalla."
The leading men who were left of the followers of Edilwalch talked
apart, and the rest of the people went off to look after their property.
Caedwalla seeing no one inclined to answer him, again spoke.
"Come, my men, let us be friends, and bring us what we want, that all
may end in peace and pleasure. We care not to await much longer."
One of the oldest of the South Saxons stepped forward, and said that if
Caedwalla would give Edilwalch a funeral becoming his rank, and would
treat all men as well as Edilwalch had done, they would accept him for
their king.
Caedwalla having accepted these conditions all hostilities were laid
aside, the new king's followers helped to put the fires out, and, the
bodies being carried away and torches brought, preparations were made
for feasting the conquerors. The carcasses of some oxen were found
ready roasted in the burnt stalls, and beer and milk were brought out
from the stores belonging to Edilwalch, and which now belonged to his
conqueror; all sat down on rough benches quickly improvised from the
ruins of some of the cottages, and tables were made in the same
rough-and-ready way.