victorious young king, looking every inch a daring soldier, as well as
commanding chieftain, mounted on a powerful white horse, whose trappings
were adorned with large gold studs, mounting bosses of cairngorm and
polished agate stones. Behind him a fierce band of eager warriors,
eorls, and chiefs of the West-Saxon kingdom, with here and there the
weather-beaten face of some of his own faithful band of outlaws, who had
stood by Caedwalla in his desperate fortunes. In front, the tall figure
and noble countenance of Wilfrid in his gorgeous robes, standing on the
highest part of the little knoll, his cross-bearer holding the golden
cross, richly embroidered with crystals and agates; the white surpliced
choir mingling with the darker robes of the monks. Above, a
cloud-flecked sky, bright and changing, casting flying shadows over the
brown land, wind-blown and desolate, while all around were masses of men
still flying in wild panic, or falling in death from the effects of
their wounds. All these combined to make a striking picture.
Caedwalla, not yet a Christian, and seeing only in Wilfrid a wise man,
and one who had seen much of the world, besides being surrounded with a
halo of superstition, as the possessor of talismans and charms far above
all others in England, was also mindful of the benefits he had lately
received from him; with wise policy, therefore, he at once saluted the
Bishop, and gave orders to stop all further slaughter.
[Illustration: St. Wilfrid goeth to meet Caedwalla, and biddeth him stay
ye battle]
"My Father," he said, "I am fortunate in my meetings with thee. The
last time we met I was a king, and now the next time, behold, I am king
again, and this time my title is far above that of a petty prince of the
South Saxons, and each time victory had smiled upon my arms."
"Give thanks, therefore, to the God of Hosts, my son, and humble thyself
before the mighty hand of God, who bringeth down the lofty from their
seat, and raiseth up them that are of low estate. But wilt thou and thy
faithful adherents come back with me? Such as our poor community can
offer is freely at thy service, and thou canst rest thee after the
dangers and fatigues of the past day."
Caedwalla willingly accepted; and the little procession turned towards
the settlement, raising the psalm, "_Jubilate Deo, omnis terra, servite
Domino in laetitia_," followed by Caedwalla and his retinue. Arrived at
the open space before the buildings, Caedwalla gave directions to his
chief eorldoman to see that his men were kept well in hand, and to
encourage the South Saxons to go to their homes peaceably. Parties were
sent out to forage, and one band of warriors was sent back with the most
important prisoners to garrison Cissanceaster, and take measures for
pacifying the district. Caedwalla then entered the refectory, which had
been cleared of all the fugitives, and where hasty preparations for an
impromptu feast were being pushed rapidly forward, under the practical
eye of Bernwine and Eolla, the cellarer.
The feast that followed was much like previous feasts, excepting that
there was more order and ceremony. Caedwalla recognised his young
friend AEdric, whom he had first met in the boat with Biggun and
Wulfstan, and asked him what news he had of the expedition, and when he
heard that no news had come, he looked grave.
The rest of the day passed tranquilly enough. Caedwalla had much to
arrange with Wilfrid, and also received much sound advice from the
prelate.
About dusk a monk came in, and reported that the sky all above Wihtea
seemed on fire, and flames could plainly be seen arising from the hills
at the east end of the island, and all men were marvelling what it could
be. Caedwalla and Wilfrid hastened out to look, and when they got to
the door, a wonderful sight met their eyes, a vast blaze was going up to
the sky, and lurid smoke was spreading over the heavens. As they were
looking, there was a commotion in the crowd, and a wounded and reeling
warrior half staggered, was half supported, to where Caedwalla and
Wilfrid were standing.
"_Beate Augustine!_" cried Wilfrid, "What more destruction has
happened?"
*CHAPTER XVII.*
*"IN THE LOST BATTLE, BORNE DOWN BY THE FLYING."*
The night after the old eorldoman, AElfhere, had been brought back to
his homestead at Braedynge, passed away peacefully enough. The outposts
were relieved at the proper times, and no movement of any kind was
detected from the direction of Wihtgarsbyrig. The next morning Wulfstan
woke up, and it took him some few moments to realise that he had ever
been away from home, all the past week's adventures appearing like a
dream. He was on his own bed in his own room, which he shared with
AEdric, and the absence of his brother first brought back the reality of
past events. Soon afterwards, the voice of old Biggun outside roused
him from his dozing reverie. He sprang out of bed, hastily performed
his simple toilet, and went quickly into the dining hall. There a not
unusual sight met his eyes, for after every festival the dining hall
formed the sleeping-place of those who had succumbed to their
too-convivial propensities, and there had been no exception in last
night's entertainment. Stepping across the prostrate Wihtwaras,
Wulfstan sprang into the open air, rejoiced to see around him all the
well-known home life. Although a great slaughter had fallen upon the
poultry, who had suffered from a double attack, for Arwald's people had
not stinted themselves, and yesterday they had every reason to regret
the restoration of their lawful lord, there yet remained a promising
brood. The lowing of some cows from a shed near, showed that all the
animals were not killed. Crossing over to the shed, the boy found an
old friend of his, the cowherd, Stuff's father, milking the cows.
"Why, Wulfstan, how thou beest grown, and they tells me thou hast done
lots of things; but these have been sad times. The work I have had to
please those villains Arwald left here! But they tell me thou hast
killed one of them. Only think of that, now!"
"Oh, that was nothing. But dost thou know I saved old Biggun's life?
He never told thee, I know."
After drinking a horn full of milk, the boy rushed off to explore his
former favourite haunts, and did not return until the loud blast of a
horn announced some important event. When he got back, he found the
morning meal was nearly over in the great hall. Athelhune and Wulf were
still sitting at the table, and Ceolwulf was listening to the report of
one of the ceorls, who dwelt a few miles away on the AEscing Down[1]
side of Braedynge. Ceolwulf's face looked grave, and after he had heard
all the man had to say, he turned to Athelhune, and muttered a few words
to him, upon which a consultation in a low voice was carried on by the
two chieftains and the old man.
[1] Ashy Down.
AElfhere was lying on a couch in a sheltered part of the hall, and
brother Malachi was sitting up by his side with his arm in a sling.
Wulfstan went up at once to his father, and was pleased to find that he
still continued to gain strength, and rejoiced that brother Malachi was
fast recovering from the hardships and wounds he had suffered. He then
set to work to make up for the missing breakfast, and paid no further
attention to anybody until this serious duty was satisfactorily
performed.
Before he had finished, Ceolwulf left the hall, accompanied by
Athelhune, while Wulf sat gazing vacantly before him, and caressing a
large wolfhound, who was resting his head on his knee. Presently the
prince got up, and, stretching himself, strolled out of the room, saying
as he did so to the wounded AElfhere, that he was just going to see how
things were passing outside.
The news that had arrived was very serious. Arwald was on the march,
with nearly the whole force of the Western Wihtwaras, to crush the
little party that had so boldly effected a lodgement on Binbrygge-ea.
Ceolwulf had at once hastily sent out to fetch in all the following
AElfhere could count on. The bravest had unfortunately fallen fighting
round their lord in the first assault and capture of the homestead, but
a good number could still be reckoned on who would be likely to give a
report of themselves in an encounter with the enemy. But the force that
was on the march against them was treble, nearly quadruple, the number
they could hope to oppose to them. Arwald fully realised the importance
of crushing this little band of enemies before Caedwalla arrived in the
island. And he had received sure information that he did intend to
arrive and re-assert the dominion of Wessex as soon as ever he had
settled with his opponents among the South Saxons.
No time therefore was to be lost if AElfhere's men hoped to save their
lives. The question which most seriously presented itself was whether
they would abandon the old homestead, and retire to the ruins again, or
retreat still further to the stockade Athelhune had made the evening
after their shipwreck, on the summit of the wooded hill under Binbrygge
down.
Ceolwulf and Athelhune were in favour of this plan, but Wulf liked the
comfort of the old house and the abundance of good cheer which he saw
around him; he was naturally reckless and preferred a positive, although
precarious comfort, to a certainty of discomfort and a doubtful safety.
Ceolwulf was convinced that all would be lost if they remained at
Braedynge. He knew the certain destruction that would await them, and
urged that their only hope was to take up such a position as should
enable them to hold out until Caedwalla could come or send them
reinforcements; and they would send at once to tell him of their
situation. Strongly stockaded as they would be at their old post, with
the creek at their feet, dense woods behind and around them, and many
defensible positions between them and the place where they had left the
old boat; there they could fight with every advantage to themselves, and
disadvantage to Arwald. To these arguments all that the Atheling Wulf
replied, was by saying they were good men enough to fight any number of
beggarly Wihtwaras, and he didn't see why he should stir out of
comfortable quarters for anyone. The matter was at last referred to
AElfhere, who at once decided they must give up all hopes of defending
the homestead, and must retire to the knoll above the Yare, locally
known as Yaver wood. At this decision the Atheling Wulf was much
dissatisfied, but there was no good disputing it, for he had only
brought two men with him, and Athelhune quite agreed with AElfhere.
All was now confusion. The neighbouring ceorls and thralls were rapidly
coming in, and with them came such of their worldly goods as they could
carry. Their wives and families accompanied them, and the dismay was
universal when it was known that the homestead was to be abandoned, and
all would have to cross to Binbrygge-ea, or be left at the mercy of
Arwald. And what that mercy would be after this rising against his
authority, all knew; and none were anxious to experience. Many would
have liked to go back to their homes, but the thought that their lot
would not be much better, deterred them; indeed it might be very much
worse, for Arwald would be sure to plunder them although he might spare
their lives, while in the event of AElfhere being able to hold out until
Caedwalla arrived, and victory then smiling upon their arms, as was not
unlikely, a terrible punishment would await them at the hands of their
justly enraged lord. Moved by such considerations, the crowd of armed
ceorls with their households, and such belongings as they had brought,
prepared to cross the ford over the Yare as the tide was now low, and
make the best of their way to the wild fastnesses of Binbrygge-ea.
Athelhune and Ceolwulf showed much judgment in the direction and
management of this heterogeneous mass, and Wulfstan, to his great joy,
was allowed to act as a kind of aide-de-camp to Ceolwulf. The fighting
men were sifted out, and formed up with the Boseham and West Saxon
warriors. These numbered not more than seven men altogether, without
counting Athelhune, Ceolwulf and the Atheling Wulf, each of whom,
however, counted as hosts in themselves, for they were thoroughly
experienced, toughened warriors. Including all the fighting men
available, there was a respectable force of more than a hundred men.
This body, on the whole well armed with shields, axes, spears, and
swords, while some few possessed bows and arrows, was placed under the
command of Wulf the Atheling, out of compliment to his rank, and were
not to march until later in the day. Wulfstan was still more delighted
at being told to get all the boys together and make them collect all the
stones they could find, the sharper the flints the better; many of the
boys possessed slings, and like boys of all ages in the lower order,
were excellent shots at bringing down rabbits, or birds sitting.
Ceolwulf had counted on this assistance to annoy the enemy on their
advancing to attack the stockade. Ceolwulf himself had undertaken, with
the aid of the most infirm and oldest of AElfhere's servants, to go on
with the crowd of ceorls and thralls who could be spared from the first
fighting line under Wulf, and superintend the crossing of the ford, and
then enlarge and perfect the stockade. The chieftains had carefully
counted their time, and had arranged to have their forces concentrated
on the Yaver hill before sunset. They reckoned that Arwald would not
reach the homestead at Braedynge before the middle or end of the
afternoon, that his men would be wearied with their march, and that, if
they discovered where they had retreated, they would not attempt to
cross the ford at high water, or care to stir at all for the matter of
that, as all their food would either have to be brought with them, or
they must go without, for it was carefully provided that every article
of food, alive or dead, should be cleared out of the neighbourhood, and
safely stored in the stockade, or else behind the protection of that
little fortress, which commanded the only approach to the woods and
commons beyond, between Binbrygge down and the Foreland, and which would
serve as pasturage for the cattle. Thus Binbrygge-ea would form a
little fortified settlement surrounded by the sea on nearly every side,
and accessible only by the ford at low water, or else by the sandy beach
which kept the sea from encroaching on the Yare; which stream must be in
any case crossed before getting into the peninsula at all. Athelhune
had undertaken the command of the outposts, whom it was most necessary
to keep to their work properly; and it was arranged that as soon as his
men caught sight of Arwald's column advancing, they should either make a
pretended attack on the advanced body, and so drive them in on the main
column, if the nature of the ground or Arwald's forces gave any
opportunity of this being done without loss to Athelhune's men, or they
should retire at once to the heavy troops under Wulf, and then the whole
would retreat across the Yare in good order, and unseen by the enemy,
who would find the old homestead totally deserted, and would most likely
suspect some stratagem.
Everything was now perfectly arranged. The long line of straggling
countrymen, with their wives, children, and cattle, had been slowly
winding down to the ford across the Yare, for some time past, and were
seen here and there among the bushes on the other side in their ascent
to the woods behind Yaver hill. It was now a little past noon; there
were many picturesque groups still left, however, seated around the
homestead. Mothers looking after their little ones, and resting after
the long walk they had already had before setting out again. AElfhere
and Malachi had been carried on litters down to the ford, and were
already some way on the other side, and Ceolwulf had set all the
able-bodied men who had reached the stockade, to fell more trees, clear
the ground all round as far as possible, and enlarge the accommodation.
It was not intended that the women and children should stop here. They
were to go on with the less able-bodied men, and the cattle, and take
shelter in a secluded dell under the Binbrygge down not more than a mile
away, but in the midst of dense brushwood, and in a spot known only to
the local inhabitants.
It was now getting on for two hours past noon. Athelhune had gone off
with his band of skirmishers to try and get news of the enemy; not
knowing the country himself he was compelled to have recourse to the aid
of one of AElfhere's servants for guidance. It would have been better if
Ceolwulf had undertaken this service, but the pride of Athelhune would
not allow him to superintend mere manual labour, however important, and
so he was assigned the post of honour next to that of the Atheling Wulf.
Athelhune's guide led him up the route or track that passed behind the
homestead, and crossing the ridge of AEscing down dipped again towards
the central valley of the island. From this high ground the Wessex
chieftain commanded a wide extending view; at his feet lay the wooded
dell and half-ruined roofs of AElfhere's homestead, beyond was the
valley of the Yare, and the silver track of the stream as it meandered
among the mud wastes of Braedynge haven to meet the incoming tide that
would so soon convert the dreary swamp into a lovely lake. The little
boat--a mere spot--in which Wulf, the Atheling, had come the day before,
was lying high and dry near a shingle hard; across the Yare the long
line of country people could be seen trailing like a long snake from the
homestead below, till it was lost in the woods on the other side. The
promontory or peninsula of Binbrygge, stood out in the midst of the sea,
except where the long back of the magnificent down intercepted the
horizon towards the south-east; far away, in the east, over the distant
sea, could be seen a few dots edging the horizon. At that very moment
among those dots which were the wind-blown trees of Selsea, Wilfrid and
Caedwalla were discussing the invasion of Wihtea, and AEdric was
wondering what had become of Wulfstan. The clear cloud-flecked sky
looked down on a weary world. Wars and rumours of wars, and a people
suffering much.
Suddenly one of Athelhune's men pointed to a spot far down below, on the
southern side of the hill; a cloud of dust was driving before the
south-westerly breeze; instantly Athelhune knew it must be the enemy;
waiting one moment to take in the situation, he saw how perilous was
their position. Not knowing the country, he had been ignorant that
there was another road by which Arwald might come, and the guide, with
the stolidity of a dull-witted Wihtwara, had never told him. The
advancing cloud of dust was on a level with Athelhune, and he saw that
it would be a race who should reach the homestead first. Mortified at
the failure of his reconnaissance, and the imminent danger all would
necessarily incur, he promptly made up his mind. Sending off the
fastest runner of his men to tell the Atheling Wulf, Athelhune
determined to descend the hill diagonally, and attempt a diversion in
flank before the enemy should be aware of his proximity. Hastily
calling to his men, he started at a rapid pace down the hill. There was
not much more than half a mile between himself and the enemy, and he
directed all his efforts to getting, if possible, to a clump of bushes
which lay directly in the march of the advancing column. He hoped to be
able to reach this unperceived, and then, by a well-timed rush, to throw
the enemy into confusion, after which his men would all hasten back as
fast as possible to join the Atheling Wulf. Full of this hope he urged
his men to greater speed, and they were fortunately concealed from their
foes by the cloud of dust which was carried towards them by the breeze.
Athelhune had with him about twenty men, all Wihtwaras, active men
enough, but not well armed. However, he trusted more to their sudden
rush, and unexpected appearance, for gaining his object, than to any
real execution they could inflict on Arwald's men.
They had now reached the clump of gorse and thorns, where Athelhune
rapidly explained what he intended to do, and impressed upon them the
absolute necessity of the rush being simultaneous, determined, and
rapid, and pointed out to the men that in this way only could their
lives be saved. There was no time for more, already through the dusty
veil the glint of spears and flash of armour could be seen, and a
serried troop of horsemen came directly towards the clump of gorse
behind which the little band was crouching. Athelhune could see that
the advancing force was a strong one, the leading horsemen were all well
armed, powerful men, and were evidently the most important eorldomen and
chief ceorls in the island; the descendants of Whitgar, Stuffa, and
their followers, who nearly two hundred years before had come to
Cerdicsford, the modern Yarmouth, to help Cerdic. Among them rode
Arwald himself, a powerful, thickset man, with bushy black beard, and
coarse features, burly in form, and brutal in expression. He was clad
in a loose mail shirt, his muscular arms were bare, and on his thick
bushy hair he wore an iron helmet, adorned with the large wings of a
heron. Behind him was slung a spear; at his saddle hung a huge
two-edged axe, and a straight sword was suspended at his left hip by a
chain across his right shoulder. He was laughing loudly at some jest of
his own, and all were evidently in high spirits. Behind him was a body
of some four hundred men, but all were not well armed, and very few were
mounted.
Nearer and nearer the column advanced, in the confidence of their
strength; and despising the numbers of their opponents, no scouts had
been sent out, and all were marching at ease, and as if in a friendly
country.
The leading files had passed the clump. Athelhune could hear Arwald
saying, "By the golden hair of Freya, but we won't spare a man, woman,
or child, this time."
Then Athelhune gave the signal quietly to his men.