mortification of the executioner, and the momentary saving of
Beornwulf's life, but, above all in the disabling of one more of
Beornwulf's enemies, for so it would count, according to all the
received ideas; and thus at a moment, the most supreme in the life of a
man, Beornwulf had contrived to add one more to the number of victims he
would have for his own particular portion when he arrived in Valhalla,
and his renown for wit would be very great.
But the executioner was furious at the trick that had been played upon
him: he paid no heed to the shouts of the crowd, and, uttering a savage
cry, he rushed upon Beornwulf. Some of the bystanders shouted to
Beornwulf, to warn him of his danger, but it seemed nothing could save
him, for the man was upon him: when, quick as lightning, Beornwulf flung
himself prostrate upon the ground at the feet of his would-be murderer.
The man heavy, blundering, and blinded by passion, fell over him,
severing the cord with his axe as he fell; and instantly Beornwulf rose
to his feet, seized the axe out of his hand, and dealt him a swinging
death-blow.
Again shouts of applause arose, but this time they were not so
unanimous, the _amour propre_ of the Wihtwaras was becoming hurt.
Beornwulf was a West Saxon and a stranger; it was not right he should
triumph thus over the islanders; it was time his conceit came to an end.
Had he rested on his first success popular favour would have been with
him, or had he simply managed to escape from the blow of the
executioner; but the death of this latter, who was a well-known as well
as a popular character at Wihtgaresbyryg, made many people angry, and
especially Arwald; and he gave orders to have the West Saxon killed at
once.
But Beornwulf's blood was up now. He held in his hand the axe; with a
blow he cut the rope which attached the two other prisoners to the long
row of prostrate dead bodies; he called to them to seize axes from the
bystanders, and then rushed to where the other prisoners were standing;
before the guards could interfere, he had cut down one of them, shouted
to the prisoners to imitate him, and struck right and left at any who
were near him. The whole thing was so sudden, the confusion and noise
were so great, that many people did not know what was happening, while
at the same time a great number of cattle which were being driven up for
supplies, and were close behind the crowd, terrified at the hubbub,
broke away from their drivers, and, with tails erect and lowered horns,
rushed through the crowd, horning many and trampling on more. Arwald
shouted, stormed, and raved; the leading eorls rushed in among the crowd
and tried to restore some sort of order; but in such a fighting,
struggling mass, confined between the building of the homestead, with
plunging cattle, mad with terror, goring, trampling, rushing wildly here
and there, with a desperate band of men, in whom the love of life was
once more kindled, along with the hope of saving it, what could anyone
do to restore order? The confusion could only cease with physical
exhaustion. The noise was terrific.
Beornwulf cut his way towards the nearest opening in the buildings,
followed by many of the prisoners. There was this advantage for them:
they knew what they wanted and had a definite purpose, and were prompted
by the most powerful impulse that could act on human beings when blindly
yielding to the cry of nature. The instinct of self-preservation taught
them where to go, which instinct, also acting upon their enemies, aided
them in their efforts to escape. At last--how, scarcely any one could
tell--Beornwulf and about twenty more found themselves outside the
buildings with nothing before them but open country right down to the
ford. With a wild rush they started for the creek, followed by very few
of Arwald's men. The confusion, now that it was relieved of a
considerable part of its cause, gradually quieted down, and then Arwald
was able to see that nearly all his prisoners had escaped; heaping
terrific abuse upon the guards who had allowed them to get away, he
ordered his horse to be brought, and all who could to follow him.
The fugitives had strained every nerve to get a good start and were
rapidly rearing the ford, but they had had no food and were exhausted;
gallantly they ran, but it was quite clear that some of them must be
caught again. Panting, gasping, Beornwulf reached the ford, the tide
was fortunately down and he dashed through it, followed closely by
several others; they had scarcely reached the banks on the other side,
when a wild cheer welcomed them, and Ceolwulf, with Wulfstan and a large
force of boys sprang up and greeted them. Arwald and his few followers
seeing that all the fugitives had now got within shelter of the stones,
whose disastrous effects still left a mark on his forehead, thought it
more prudent to retire, and all the fugitives were therefore saved.
"Oh, Beornwulf, I am so glad!" cried Wulfstan, as they all stood on the
top of the bank and saw Arwald sullenly rein in his horse and give the
order to return.
"Let's give him a parting volley. I do believe I could hit him,"
Wulfstan said, and swinging his sling round his head he sent a stone
whizzing and humming through the air after Arwald, while all the band
set up a derisive shout. Arwald was just turning round to shake his
fist at them, when the stone struck his horse violently on the hind
quarter, causing it to give a leap into the air. Arwald was pitched
heavily forwards, and was nearly unseated; as it was he lost his
stirrups, and had to clutch at the mane to keep himself from falling,
while the horse galloped away towards the homestead, and in this
undignified way the Wihtwara chieftain returned to his men.
Wulfstan and all the others shouted with mocking laughter, and then
turned towards the stockade, their spirits considerably relieved at the
safety of the fugitives, and at the unexpected addition to their little
force.
One or two of the sharpest boys were left with Stuff to see how matters
were going, and to watch the enemy, with strict orders to send up word
of what was going on, and if any fresh attack seemed imminent.
"We did that fire well, didn't we, Beorney?" said Wulfstan, as they
walked up to the stockade, passing the charred gorse on their right. "I
heard Arwald say how nice our cooking smelt; he little thought how soon
some of his men would feel the fire. I wish it had been the old fat
knave himself."
*CHAPTER XX.*
*"'TIS TRUE WE ARE IN GREAT DANGER; THE
GREATER SHOULD OUR COURAGE BE."*
When Ceolwulf and the rescued party reached the stockade it was a little
past noon; the breeze that had been gently blowing from the east began
to show signs of going round with the sun, for the weather was very
fine. This fickleness of the wind was noted by Ceolwulf with a
discontented grunt, for it was quite clear that any reinforcements that
Caedwalla might send would be delayed by a westerly or south-westerly
wind.
"Dost thou think Wulf the Atheling reached Selsea?" asked Wulfstan for
about the hundredth time, and Ceolwulf, who was already grumpy enough at
the prospect of the change in the wind, was exasperated at the
persistency of his young lord.
"How can I tell thee? Why dost thou weary me so with such foolish
questions? Thou wilt know fast enough when thou seest any boats
coming," and with this answer Wulfstan had to be content, until, in a
moment of thoughtlessness, he should ask the same question again in the
course of a few more minutes.
"I tell thee what it is, Biggun!" said Beornwulf, "I shall not be sorry
for a bit of food; so if thou hast got any hereabouts let me see it."
"All right, man. Thou shalt have it soon enough," replied Ceolwulf,
leading the way into the now completed stockade.
Beornwulf was surprised to see how well everything had been done. The
area inside had been made very much larger; unfortunately, now that all
their fighting men were nearly exterminated, almost too large for the
little force who could defend it. Stores of food were piled up at the
sides, and boards laid on the top of these, to act as platforms; logs
were rolled against the only entrance, and shelters made for the
defending force against missiles. AElfhere and Malachi had been taken
away, and were carefully concealed in a very impervious and wild part of
the country, known only to a few of the most adventurous of the
inhabitants, and it was intended to try to mislead Arwald into thinking
that all the household servants, dependents, and belongings of AElfhere
were assembled inside the stockade, and to carry out this impression a
few cattle had been kept inside, carefully penned up. All the trees
that in any way commanded a view into the interior of the little
fortification were cleared away, and a path down to the spring of water
was defended by stout palings. Altogether, everything that prudence,
foresight, and energy could do to render their position secure had been
done: the only thing wanted to crown the preparations was a suitable
number of defenders, and this it was now impossible to obtain. The
midday meal had been postponed until Ceolwulf returned, and they all sat
down inside the stockade, and made an excellent dinner. Free, careless,
and in the enjoyment of the most perfect health, the majority of the
men, like thoughtless children, forgot the danger they had passed, or
the almost certain death that awaited them, in the animal pleasure of
the moment, and, like the Homeric heroes, they sat eating much flesh,
and quaffing home-brewed beer, in most absolute and unconcerned
satisfaction.
All listened to Beornwulf's account of what had gone on at the
homestead, and there was a disapproving grunt from all when they heard
how narrowly Arwald had missed being killed by Athelhune's knife, but
the applause was great as they heard how nobly the West Saxon eorldoman
had met his death. But when Beornwulf came to his own part in the
tragedy the rejoicing was tumultuous. The recital of these stirring
deeds, and the example of stern, enduring indifference to death, had an
excellent effect upon the men, and when dinner was over they all felt
equal to any number of enemies. Indeed, so carried away were they all,
that many openly said it was too much like women to stay behind wooden
walls; they ought to sally out into the open; they could easily defeat
such a miserable lot as the followers of Arwald, and among these was
Wulfstan, who was overjoyed at the successes that had crowned his part
in the fray hitherto. Although they could not help being depressed at
the loss of all their fighting men in the fatal slaughter down by the
meadows near the Yare, yet they attributed this entirely to the gross
mismanagement of Wulf the Atheling, and their subsequent diversion in
harassing the enemy at the ford, and the final total rout and retreat of
Arwald, had fully compensated in their eyes for their previous defeat.
And now this last success, in which Arwald had been bearded in his own
hall, as it were, crowned the whole, and not a man doubted but that they
would not only hold their own until Caedwalla could send them
reinforcements, but would totally annihilate Arwald by their own unaided
valour.
Ceolwulf alone was not blinded by their successes; in fact he could not
but see that unless help were to come to them soon they must all succumb
to the enormous odds Arwald would bring against them. After all, what
had they done? They had worried Arwald; they had driven him back by a
most fortunate stratagem, but such as could not succeed again. They had
rescued some twenty of their own men, who would never have had to be
rescued but for the bad generalship of their leader; but they had lost
more than seventy of their best men, and among them Athelhune and the
Atheling Wulf. They had put off the evil day for a few hours, that was
all--a great deal if they could see any help coming; but at best no help
was likely to come for another twenty-four hours.
Anxiously Ceolwulf looked at the clouds, the wind was getting more and
more to the west, but it might go back again at nightfall. But how
could they hope to hold out if once Arwald attacked in earnest? There
was one hope. Arwald did not show any signs of moving yet; at least, no
news had come from the outposts, and it was now getting on well into the
afternoon. Perhaps his reinforcements had not come up, or he might
intend a night attack.
The force left to defend the stockade amounted to not more than a
hundred men. There was a large number of boys, but they could be of
little use in a hand-to-hand encounter, and Ceolwulf turned it over in
his mind whether it would not be better to leave them outside under
Wulfstan; they had shown such talents for annoying the enemy without
themselves receiving any damage, and they were so perfectly at home in
the intricate paths and rough tracks, over the hills and through the
woods, that he thought it would be wisest to send them outside, they
might thus escape the destruction which was sure to await those in the
stockade, and might create a useful diversion by stoning the enemy from
the cover of the woods, for in running they could outstrip most men, and
knew the land well.
Full of these anxious thoughts Ceolwulf had been meditatively leaning,
with his head on his hands looking dreamily over the parapet of the
stockade. The stockade from this point commanded a view, through a gap
in the trees, where the land fell abruptly to a wooded dell below, of
the distant sea to the east of the island, and consequently towards
Selsea. The sun was getting low in the heavens, but his rays were still
bright; and the light shone full on the far-distant line of downs beyond
Cissanceaster. Ceolwulf had been gazing vaguely in this direction for
some time, in the see-nothing sort of way in which men look intently at
objects without in the least grasping their reality.
"Why, Biggun, old man," called Beornwulf, who, now that he was
thoroughly rested, and had had a good dinner, felt equal to anything,
"What art thou looking so hard for? that is not where Arwald will come
from;" and, as he spoke, he got up on to the platform by his side, but
not looking in the same direction as Ceolwulf. Glancing up at the sky,
he said, "I think the breeze is drawing more from the north again. We
can't make another beacon fire for Arwald, can we?" Then he turned
round and looked out towards the sea, and in another second shouted,
"There's a fleet coming this way! Look at that dark patch on the water,
half-way between Selsea and us."
Ceolwulf looked, and instantly perceived that he had been gazing at this
object for some time, but had never given it a thought.
There was no doubt about it. That dark patch, with here and there a
brighter speck in the midst of it, was a flotilla, and the brighter
specks were sails.
It was Caedwalla coming to save them.
But would he--could he arrive in time? Other eyes must have seen the
flotilla too. Arwald would never allow the invaders to land without
crushing the rebels first; and the flotilla could not, under the most
favourable circumstances, reach Braedynge haven before two or three
hours, and then they would have to disembark and march three miles
before they could help them; and in four hours there might not be a man
alive in the stockade.
At this moment Stuff rushed up, shouting that Arwald had crossed the
Yare with more men than ever, and was advancing upon the stockade.
"Well, then, that puts an end to all my doubts," said Ceolwulf. "Wulf,
do thou take the boys outside. Thou art a sharp lad. Send two or three
down to the point at the entrance to the haven. Tell them to light a
fire there, and as soon as they can, let them tell Caedwalla where we
are, and bid him hasten to our help. Anyhow," muttered Ceolwulf, "he
will avenge us on Arwald, and the eorldoman AElfhere will be saved, and
the boy too. If that happens, what matters it what becomes of an old
man like me?"
So saying, the old Wihtwara got down off the platform and prepared to
give the final directions before the last decisive struggle began. It
was now about an hour before sunset. Why Arwald had not attacked sooner
he could not understand; and he argued that he would not have attacked
now had he not seen the flotilla, from which he concluded that all the
reinforcements had not reached him, or that there had been some
accident. Ceolwulf directed Wulfstan to go outside at once, bidding him
be sure to do nothing rashly, but make his way down to the shore, and,
above all things, keep out of Arwald's way.
The boy took an affectionate leave of Biggun, but secretly resolved he
would have a shot at Arwald before he retreated; and he was not sorry to
have an opportunity of distinguishing himself without Ceolwulf's
guidance and direction. He had every confidence in himself, indeed too
much so, and was already turning over a deep scheme by which he might
lead Arwald into destruction. When he got outside the stockade,
therefore, he called Stuff to him, and the two boys entered into an
earnest conversation, at the end of which Stuff, with a look of great
and complacent cunning, and much mysterious importance, disappeared in
the woods, while Wulfstan led the band of boys away towards the
Braedynge haven side of the hill.
After they had gone about half a mile they came to a marshy piece of
waste land, surrounded on two sides with steep hillocks and high thick
gorse bushes. On the other side was a narrow strip of shingly beach, for
it was close to the haven, and at the farther end was a dense wood.
Wulfstan told the boys to lie concealed behind the bushes, and when he
whistled they were to spring up and riddle the enemy with stones, and
then rush away into the wood at the other end, and thence return towards
the stockade, to give such aid as they could to Ceolwulf.
Stuff had been told by Wulfstan to let himself be caught by Arwald's
men, who had been trying to capture some one to act as guide to where
the rest of AElfhere's party had hidden themselves. It was the
accidental overhearing of the conversation between some of Arwald's
eorls that first put the idea into Stuff's head; and he had suggested it
to Wulfstan, who grasped at the scheme with joy. All went as they
wished, Stuff allowed himself to be seen by one of the flanking party of
Arwald's force. He pretended to run away, stumbled, and was caught. He
made sufficient resistance to make his captor think that he was a
desperate youngster, mad at being captured. Indeed, he acted his part so
well that he got a very hard knock on the head to keep him quiet. He
was brought up before Arwald, who, with many vituperations, ordered him
to show them the way to AElfhere. Stuff at first sullenly declared he
didn't know it; then on being threatened with the most awful tortures if
he didn't at once tell, he pretended to be overcome with terror, and
said he did know. He was then ordered to lead the way at once,
whereupon he implored them not to make him show them, "For," said he,
"they will kill me if they see me." His terror seemed so real that one
of the eorls said he might walk by his side, and he would protect him.
Having at last very sullenly consented, he led them towards the spot
where Wulfstan was in ambush, and which also seemed to Arwald to be in
the right direction, as he had smelt the smell of cooking coming from
the left hand when he advanced last night. Everybody was the more
convinced that the boy was leading them right, because of his manifest
reluctance to give the information, and because of his obvious terror.
They little knew what a depth of cunning lay beneath that dull, stolid,
cowed-looking exterior.
As they advanced towards the morass, the horses sank deeper into the
soft spongy ground, and many of the eorls got off to walk in order to
save their horses. Arwald, remembering the catastrophe of the night
before, and, determining not to be so caught again, sent a strong body
of men to scour the higher ground, directing them to push on some way to
their right; and Stuff, seeing this, and knowing that they must come
upon the stockade if they went on in that direction, muttered in a tone
of satisfaction to himself, but loud enough for the eorl to hear:
"An' they go that way they'll get stuck in the mire, and on being
interrogated by the eorl, he looked up in a startled way, and pretended
he had not said anything. But the eorl was not going to be put off, and
insisted on knowing what he meant, whereupon with much reluctance the
boy said there were pitfalls and swamps up there. When Arwald was told
this, he was about to give the order for the men to fall back, when a
shout from one of the advance guard told him that something had been
seen.
While the attention of everybody was directed to the point from which
the man shouted, Stuff took the opportunity to duck under the belly of
the eorl's horse and escape into a thick clump of furze, or gorse, where
he lay hid, but listening eagerly for what was going to follow. He
heard Arwald shout for the man to come and tell him what he had seen;
and he heard the scout report that he had seen a clearing in the forest,
and the palings of a well-built stockade; but whilst they were talking
the sound of a rustling near him, made him lie very close. The next
moment he saw Wulfstan crawl into the clump followed by a dozen boys.
Stuff gave a low whistle which caused Wulfstan to pause. "Stuff, is
that thou?" he whispered cautiously. "Ay, it's me sure enough," replied
the boy in the same cautious tone.
"What's up, Stuff? Why don't they go on?" whispered Wulfstan.
"They've seen the stockade, and are going to attack it."
At this moment they could hear the eorl who had undertaken to look after
Stuff exclaim with surprise that the boy had gone--and several men began
beating the bushes round. This was getting too close; so Wulfstan and
all of them begun to crawl back into thicker and more distant cover,
when suddenly one of the men who was beating the bushes caught sight of
them and instantly uttered a view halloo. "Gone away; gone away," he
shouted, dashing after the boys who now that they were seen rose to
their feet and darted off, scattering in different directions. Wulfstan
and Stuff, with some three or four more, kept together, and made for the
thickest part of the wood to the north of the stockade hoping to be able
to baffle their pursuers, double round behind them, and then follow them
up, and perhaps catch them at a disadvantage somewhere, and so do them
some damage.
Three men on horseback, and about half-a-dozen footmen, had started
after Wulfstan, while others had gone after the rest of the boys, for
Arwald's force was now so numerous, that he could easily afford to send
off parties to scour the country, while he, with the main body, could
advance to the attack on the stockade, whose existence he now for the
first time learnt; and thus a very great danger arose lest the rest of
the women and children, who were encamped right away at the south-east
extremity of Binbrygge, should be discovered and all be made prisoners.
Arwald, naturally concluding from the impracticable nature of the
ground, and the accidental discovery of the stockade so far on his
right, as well as from the disappearance of the captive guide, that they
were being led into an ambush, gave the order for all the force, with
the exception of the small bodies sent in pursuit of the boys, to
advance upon the stockade.
The cavalry, led by Arwald, marched across the outskirts of the burnt
common, the scene of their rout and disgrace the evening before, while
the footmen pushed into the woods on either side.
"By Freya's golden hair," said Arwald, as he came in sight of the steep
knoll, on the top of which was the stockade, "but these knaves have
chosen a good position. We must carry this place quickly, or we shall
have more to deal with than we know how." And he looked up anxiously at
the sky.
The breeze was clearly fresher, and what was worse was blowing from the
north-east. The sun was going down fast.
"Come, my men, there's no time to be lost. There are enough of us here
to make an end of these cripples without much difficulty. Begin the
assault."