March and April went by, and Olaf had gathered good fleet enough in
the Thames. But there was no word of Cnut's return, though the
dread thereof hung heavy over all the land, in such wise that no
man could plan what he would do without the thought rising up,
"Unless the Dane comes," seeing that each day might bring news of
him.
No man knows now what that terror and uncertainty was like--to have
ever in one's heart the fear of that awful host that seemed to
sweep from end to end of the land before a levy could be gathered
to meet it.
There had been time to gather a levy now against the coming of
Cnut, but naught had been done. Sick at heart and impatient was
Olaf, for England's rulers would not take care for her safety.
Then came word of a great council to be held at Oxford, and we
hoped much from that; but two days after it had been held there
came to us, angry and desponding, Ulfkytel, our East Anglian earl,
and told us how things had gone as ill as they might. Few words
enough are needed to tell it, but none can know what harm was
wrought thereby. Whereof Olaf says that a good leader will act
first, and call his council afterwards.
All the best of England were there, not only Saxon thanes of
Wessex, but also loyal Danes of the old settlement, and had the
king spoken his will plainly, all would have been well. For of the
Danish nobles, Utred of Northumbria and the two earls of the old
seven boroughs, Sigeferth and Morcar, were at one with our earl and
Eadmund for gathering a great levy, and keeping it together by
marching through the Danelagh, and calling on the Danish thingmen,
in the towns they yet held, to surrender.
That plan was good, and would have been carried out; but Edric
Streone rose up and reminded Ethelred of how the march through
Lindsey had done more harm than good.
"Cnut will not return," he said, "and messages to these Danish
garrisons with promise of peace if they surrender will be enough.
But if we fall on them, they will grow desperate, and will send for
Cnut to help them. If we win them to peace, Cnut cannot come back."
Thereat Sigeferth of Stamford spoke hotly, minding Streone that the
harm was done in Lindsey by pillage and burning wrought among
peaceful folk, who were thus made enemies to the king. The thingmen
would submit quietly if they knew they must; but if they were left,
they would send word to Cnut that there was no force to oppose him.
But the words of Streone prevailed as ever, and the council broke
up, and the nobles fell to feasting, while this foolish message was
sent to Swein's veterans in their towns.
Then Sigeferth and Morcar made no secret of their belief that
Streone was playing into Cnut's hands for reasons of his own.
Wherefore Streone sent for them in friendly wise, as if to recall
his words, and they went, and came from his house alive no more.
Then their men went to avenge their lords' deaths, and were driven
into St. Frideswide's church, and that was burnt over their heads.
"Now the seven boroughs will welcome Cnut," said Ulfkytel, "and
Lindsey looks for him; so he has a clear road into the heart of
England."
Then I saw that Streone surely wrought for Cnut, else was he a more
foolish man than was thought, for all held him as the most skilful
at statecraft in England.
Then said Ulfkytel:
"Utred has gone to mind his own land, and I have come to ask you to
help me in East Anglia."
And in the end it came to pass that Olaf gave his new fleet into
the hands of the London thanes, for Ethelred seemed to care nought
for it, and took his own ships only, and we sailed first of all to
Maldon. Little trouble was there, for the Danes who held the place
submitted, being too few to fight us, and we gave their arms to the
citizens, and mounted all of our men whom we could, and so left the
ships and marched towards Colchester, along the great road that I
had last passed as a fugitive in the years that seemed to me so
long ago.
It was strange to me as we went, and the mist of time seemed to
pass away, so that all began to be as plain to my mind as if that
flight had been but yesterday. There was nothing of the wayside
happening that I could not remember well.
But all the roadside was changed, for the cottages were gone, and
the farmsteads stood no longer in the clearings. I know not what
tales of terror I might have heard concerning the burnings of these
homes. Where the thralls' huts had been were but patches of nettles
and docks hiding heaps of ashes, and the farmhouses were charred
ruins. And we saw now and then a man, skin clad and wretched,
seeking shelter in the woods in all haste as we sighted him. But I
had no need to ask aught--I knew only too well what manner of tales
might be told here, as everywhere in Swein's track.
As we drew nearer Colchester, and the village folk began to learn
who we were, and so would gather with gifts for the good-natured
Norsemen who came to release them from the tyranny of the thingmen,
now and then a face that I knew would start, as it were, upon me
from among a little crowd. But none knew me, nor were they likely
to do so. Hardly could I think myself the same as the careless boy
who had watched his father ride away to the war. Indeed, I know
that I changed less in the ten years that came after this than in
the four that had gone by since that day. For in those four years I
had become the hardened warrior of many defeats and but this one
victory.
Now when we reached Coggeshall village, word came to us that the
Danes were gathering in force in Colchester, and that they expected
Olaf to besiege them there.
"I will waste no time under Colchester walls," he said, "but will
strike inland a little; then they will come out and give us battle
in the open to stay our march."
By this time the loyal freemen of Essex had gathered to Ulfkytel in
good force, and Olaf thought it would be well that he should march
along the road that leads from Coggeshall to Dunmow and take that
town, which is strong, so that the Danish forces should not join
against us.
Therefore he left us, and would go northwards from Dunmow, taking
the towns from thence to Thetford and Norwich, and he should go to
Ipswich and maybe to Dunwich after this. So would all East Anglia
submit. And all went well with Ulfkytel until the time came when he
must turn back in haste, as I must tell presently.
Now, after he was gone, Olaf thought that it would be well to cross
the Colne and Stour rivers, and so cut off the Sudbury Danes from
Colchester if it might be done.
"Then there is no better place than my own," said I, "for the road
on either side of the Stour can be guarded at Bures, and I know all
the country well."
That pleased Olaf, and he said that we would take up some strong
position there, and so wait to draw the Danes into the open, where
he thought that one battle would do all for us.
Thus I came hack to the home that I loved and longed to see again.
And when we came in the early morning to the place where the great
mound of the Icenian queen towers above its woods I know not how my
heart was stirred. I cannot say the things that I felt, and Olaf
said:
"Let us ride on alone and see your place."
Then we came swiftly to the crest of the hill, and I could see all
that was mine by right. But it was a piteous sight for me, and my
rage and sorrow made me silent as I looked.
The stockading that had been so good was broken and useless, and
the church was in blackened ruins, standing among the houses where
black gaps among them also showed that the Danes had been at work
and that none had had heart to rebuild. Black were the ruins of my
home on the hill above the village, and across the mere woods one
burnt gable of Hertha's home stood alone above the hill shoulder to
show where Osgod had dwelt in the hollow of the hills beside the
ford.
Then we rode across the bridge and into the street unchallenged,
for all the poor folk had fled from before us thinking that we were
some fresh foes. Very strange the deserted place looked to me as I
sat on my horse on the familiar green, and saw the river gleam
across the gap where the church had been, and missed the houses
that I had known so well.
"Call aloud, Redwald," said Olaf. "It may be that your name will
bring some from their hiding."
So I called, and the empty street echoed back the words:
"Ho, friends! I am Redwald, your thane. Will none come to greet
me?"
There was no answer, and Olaf lifted up his clear voice:
"Ho, Ethelred's men! here is help against the Danes."
Then from under the staging by the riverside where the boats land
their cargo, crept two men and came towards us slowly. And one was
that thrall of mine who would have gone to Wormingford for me on
the night when we fled. His silver collar of thraldom was gone, for
the Danes had taken it, and his face bore marks of long hardship,
but I knew him instantly. So I called him by name, and he stared at
me fixedly for a moment, and then cried aloud and ran to me and
fell to kissing my hand and weeping with joy at my return. Nor
could I get a word from him at first.
Then more of the people came from one place or another, timidly at
first, but growing bold as they saw these two men without fear of
us, and by the time that Olaf's warriors came over the bridge there
were not a few folk standing round us and looking on. One by one I
knew their faces, though years of pain had marked them sorely. But
none knew me at first, though doubtless they would do so if I
called to them as I had called to Brand the thrall.
Now was busy setting of watches and ordering of outposts, and Olaf
went with me to the top of our hill and there set a strong post of
our men, for there could be no better place for a camp either for
rest or defence, and the people told him that every Dane in the
countryside had gone to Colchester, where they thought to be
attacked.
Now Brand the thrall had followed us to the hilltop, and while I
sat and looked at the ruins of my home he left me and spoke to a
group of countrymen who looked on at the warriors. There was one
among this group whose face drew me, for I seemed to think that I
ought to know him, though I could not say who he was. He looked
like a poor franklin in his rough brown jerkin and leather-gartered
hose, and broad hat, and he bore no weapon but a short seax in his
belt, and a quarterstaff, and there was nought about him to claim
notice. But I was watching for old friends of mine with a full
heart, and scanned the face of each one that came near.
Then it seemed that the others spoke to this man with a sort of
reverence, and presently one bared his head before him. Thereat I
knew who he was, and my heart leapt with joy, for it was good
Father Ailwin, our priest, who had gone back to his death as we had
thought.
Then I made haste and went to him, dismounting before him.
"Father," I said, "have you forgotten Redwald, your pupil?"
He took my hand in silence, being too much moved to speak, and
signed the sign of the cross towards me in token of blessing. I
bowed my head, and rejoiced that he was yet living.
Then Olaf called me, and I said:
"When the warriors have dispersed, come to the house on the green
that was Gurth's. The king and I shall be there. We have much to
say to one another, father."
So I had to leave him at that time, for now Olaf would take eight
score of our men in haste to Sudbury, which is but five miles away,
and call on the townsfolk to rise for Ethelred and drive out any
Danes who were left there.
We went away quickly, and took all our mounted men, for we could
hear of no Danish force afield yet. It is likely that word of our
force had gone from Maldon, losing nothing on the way.
We rode to Sudbury gates and called on the townspeople to open
their gates. Then was some tumult and fighting inside the town, but
they opened to us, and we rode in. There were some slain men in the
street, for what Danes had been there had resisted the surrender to
so small a force.
But the Sudbury folk rejoiced to see us, and hailed Ethelred as
king very gladly. Then Olaf bade them raise what men they could and
join him at Bures on the morrow with the first light. Thereat the
old sheriff of Sudbury, whom I knew well, promised that we should
have all the men whom he could raise.
"Nor will they be your worst fighters, King Olaf," he said, "for we
have many wrongs to avenge."
It was late evening when we went back. And in the road where it
winds between the river and the hill before one comes into Bures
street waited Rani and some men with news. The Danes had come from
Colchester, and already their watch fires were burning along the
heath some four miles to eastward of us. It had fallen out, as Olaf
wished, that they would try to bar our way into Suffolk, and we
should have work to hand on the morrow.
Now men had gone with some thralls who could take them safely near
the host, to spy what they could of the number and the plans of the
Danes.
So it came to pass that I went no more into the village that night,
but slept by a fire that burnt where our own hearthstone had been,
amid the ruins of my home. And that was a sad homecoming enough.
Moreover, in the first hours of the night a wonderful thing
happened which seemed to be of ill omen, and was so strange that
maybe few will believe it.
There was a bit of broken wall near the fire, and I laid me down in
my cloak under its shelter, setting the sword that Eadmund had
given me against it close to my head, so that I could reach it
instantly if need were. After a while I slept, for the day had been
very long and I was weary, else would sad thoughts have kept me
waking. And presently there was a rumble and snapping that woke me
up in a dream of falling ruin, and the man who lay next to me cried
out and dragged me roughly aside.
The broken wall had fallen, crumbling with the heat of the fire, I
suppose, and had almost slain me. But I was not touched, though the
sword was broken. And when Ottar the scald heard of it he was
troubled, not knowing what this might betoken. But Olaf thought
little of it.
"It means that axe is better than sword for this fight," he said,
for he had armed me like himself after the Norse manner, than which
is none better or more handsome. He had given me a byrnie {10}
of the best ring mail, and a helm gold-inlaid as became a king's
kinsman, and axe and shield like his own. He and his men alone of
all Norsemen in those days bore the cross on both helm and shield.
Nor would Olaf have any unchristened man in all his host. Many a
stout warrior did he turn away because he was not and would not be
a Christian, for many Danes were yet heathen, and most Norway men.
Some of the men who had gone out to see the Danish force came back
soon after midnight, and they said that there would seem to be
close on a thousand of them in all.
After that we knew that a hard fight was before us, and the king
bade us sleep and take what rest we might. Then, very early, came
men to say that the Sudbury folk had come, and Olaf and I went down
to the village to meet them. Close on two hundred men had come with
Prat, the son of the sheriff of Sudbury, at their head, and they
were not to be despised, for they were sturdy spearmen, and many
had mail, though the most wore the stout leathern jerkin that will
turn a sword cut well enough.
And Prat asked that they should have the first place in the fight,
seeing that they fought for their own land.
"That is the place of my own ship's crew," said Olaf, "nor will
they be denied it. Now shall you fight under Redwald, your own
thane, and he will have the next place to me."
That pleased both them and me well, and after that Olaf sent me on
as advance guard, for we knew the country.
We were nine hundred strong in all, and when I took my men to the
hilltop I met a man who said that the Danes mustered some fifteen
hundred strong. There were Anglian Danes there besides thingmen.
But Olaf had said that we would fight two to one if necessary, and
so I held on; he would send after me if he would make any change in
his plans when he heard this. It was well that we had settled with
the Sudbury force already or we should have had them to deal with
besides.
We left Bures hill and went down the steep valley beyond it, and I
thought that the Danes might wait for us in the wood that is on the
opposite slope. But there were none, and we came out on the open
ground that stretches away in a fairly level upland for many a mile
northward and eastward before us. There I waited, for we needed no
advance guard beyond these last woodlands. One could see to the dip
that is by Leavenheath, and there the Danes would be. And indeed
across the open rode a few men in that direction, and I knew that
they were scouts who would take the news of our coming; but they
were too far away to be stopped even had I wished to do so. Olaf
would not be led far from Bures and the river, but would have the
foe come to him.
So we stayed just beyond the cover, and the bustards ran across the
heath as we roused them, and the larks sprung up and sang overhead,
and the blackbirds called their alarm notes in the copse behind us,
and the men talked of these things and pointed at the rabbits that
sat up to look at us before they fled, as if there were no fighting
at hand; for indeed I think that one notes all these well-known
things more plainly when one's mind is strung up and over watchful,
as it will be before somewhat great that is looked for.
Then came Olaf at the head of his men, and as he came I saw the
first sparkle of armour across the heath under the sun, for the
Danes were in array, and were coming up to the level ground over
which we looked.
And when Olaf saw that his face grew bright with the joy of battle
in a good cause, and his hand went to his sword while he looked
quickly round for the place that he would choose. Nor was he long
in choosing, for he led us but a furlong from the cover's edge, and
there drew us up in a half circle, with the hollow towards the
cover and our horsemen on the flanks, so that the greater force
could not outflank us, while we had the wood in our rear. So if one
half of the curved line was forced back it would but drive us
closer together, back to back, and at the worst we could not be
followed into the cover except by scattered men who would be of no
account.
Now the strongest part of our curved line was in the centre, and
there stood Olaf's mailed shipmen, and behind them my English
spearmen. That place they liked not at first, till the king told
them carefully what he would have them do at the first charge of
horsemen for which he looked, for now it was plain that many of the
Danes were mounted.
Olaf and I stood between his men and mine, leaving our horses in
the cover, for a viking leader will ever fight on foot. Rani was on
the right wing, and Biorn the marshal on the left; and Ottar the
scald bore Olaf's banner beside the king. There were six of the
best warriors of the crew before Olaf as his shield wall, and six
of the best English warriors had been named by Prat to act in the
same way for me. Olaf had given me a good plain sword in place of
that which I broke, but I took a spear now, ashen shafted and
strong, in the English way, that I might be armed as were my men,
and I think that pleased them.
The Danes came on fast, and they had not been miscounted. They were
full half as many again as we, and they were drawn up in line with
their horsemen on the wings as we were, so that at first I thought
we should fight man to man, both horse and foot, along the whole
front.
Now they came almost within bow shot, and there they halted and
closed up, leaning on their weapons, while a great man, tall and
black bearded, and clad in black chain mail, rode out before them
and came towards us with his right hand held up in token of parley.
Olaf went out from the line to meet him, and when they were close
together a great hush fell on the two hosts to hear what was said.
"Are you the leader of this host?" the Dane said.
"Aye. Who are you?" answered Olaf.
"I am Egil Thorarinsson, of Colchester," he answered. "And whoever
you may be, I call on you to yield to Cnut, King of Denmark and
England, and Norway also."
"Maybe he is king of neither," Olaf answered quietly. "I am Olaf
Haraldsson, and I am here to see if he shall be King of England. So
I call on you to submit peaceably to Ethelred, leaving Cnut to take
his own land if he can."
"We are Cnut's men and Danes," answered Egil, "and from your speech
and name it would seem that you are no Englishman. Now if you are
Olaf the Thick, own your own king Cnut, and leave this Ethelred the
Unredy to his own foolishness."
"I am one of those Norsemen who hold that Cnut is no king of ours,
and therefore I fight him wherever I can. But if you will own
Ethelred there shall be peace from him, and you will but do what
the Danes of Guthrum's host did in the old days--hold the land you
have won from an English overlord."
"A fine overlord, forsooth," said the Dane; "maybe one would think
of it had he been a second Alfred--but Ethelred the Unredy! Not so,
King Olaf. Will you own Cnut, or must we make you?"
"It seems that we shall not agree until we have fought out this
question," said Olaf, laughing a little.
The Dane laughed back.
"Aye, I suppose not. I would that you had a few more men. But that
is a hard lot in the centre."
And so he looked down our line with an unmoved face, and turned his
horse and rode slowly back to his own men. Olaf came back to us
with a confident look enough.
"There is a man worth fighting," he said to me; "he is foster
brother of Thorkel the High, who leads young Cnut, and he seems an
honest warrior enough."
Then all at once his face hardened, and he spoke in the sharp tone
of command:
"Get your spearmen forward--the horsemen are coming first."
And I saw even before he spoke that this was so, for they were
closing in across their line from the wings, and forming up for an
attack that they maybe thought would break the grim ranks of Olaf's
crew who were the strength of our centre.
So I gave the word, and my spearmen came quickly forward through
the viking line, and there stood two deep, setting the butt ends of
their spears firmly in the ground at their feet, and lowering the
points to meet the horses breast high. Olaf bade the front rank
kneel on one knee and take both hands to the spear shaft, and then
the thick hedge of glittering points was double. I had never seen
this plan before, but it was what Olaf had bidden us do if there
was a charge of horsemen. And I stood in the second rank with Prat
beside me, and behind me were the men of Olaf's shield wall. I took
my axe in my right hand instead of the sword, for the heavier
weapon seemed best against what was coming.
Now were the foes ready, even as the spearmen knelt, and a chief
rode out before them and gave the word to charge, and with a great
roar they answered him, spurring their horses and flying down on
us. The arrow shafts rattled on the bow staves as Olaf's vikings
made ready, and I cried to my spearmen to stand steady, for it
seemed as if that thundering charge must sweep the crouching lines
like chaff before it. And as it came we were silent, and no spear
wavered in all the long hedge to right and left of me.
They were but fifty paces from us; and then with hiss and rattle as
of the first gust of a storm in dry branches the arrows flew among
them, smiting man and horse alike, and down went full half of the
foremost line, while over the fallen leapt and plunged those behind
them unchecked, and were upon us sword in air; and the tough spear
shafts bent and cracked, and a great shout went up, and over the
shoulders of my men flashed the viking axes, falling on horses and
dismounted men, and the Danish riders recoiled from the steadfast
spearmen whose line they could not break though they had gapped it
here and there, while the arrows and javelins flew among them
unceasingly.
They drew back disordered, and then from the wings charged our
horsemen and broke them, chasing them back towards their own men in
disorder, while my stolid spearmen closed up again shoulder to
shoulder, and the level hedge of spear points was ready again. But
now they shone no longer, for they were dulled with the crimson
token of their work.
Then the Danish ranks opened, and their horsemen passed through to
the rear, and at once our men wheeled back to their posts on the
wings, shouting in the faces of the Danes as they galloped past
their lines. Then was the ground open between the forces again, but
now it was cumbered with fallen men and horses, and below our spear
points was a ghastly barrier of those who had dared to rush on
them, for spear had begun and axe had finished the work.
"Well done, spearmen!" Olaf cried to us, "now is our turn."
And at his word his vikings took our place, and we were content.
For we had borne the first shock of the battle after all, and had
earned praise. Moreover the whole line cheered us as we fell back
into the second line.
"Now comes the real fighting," said Olaf to me; "stay by my side,
cousin, and you and I will see some sword play together."
So I stood on the left hand, and Ottar was on his right with the
standard, and Prat of Sudbury was next to me. The viking line was
two deep before us, and Olaf's shieldmen and mine were between us
and the rear rank, and my spearmen leant on their weapons behind us
again. But it took us less time to fall into place thus than it has
taken to say how we stood.
And hardly were we steady again before the whole Danish line broke
out into their war song and advanced. Then the song became a hoarse
roar, and their line lapped round to compass our bowed front, and
man to man they flung themselves on us as the storm of darts and
arrows crossed from side to side between us. Then rang the war
chime, the clang of steel on steel loud over Leavenheath, and there
came into my heart again the longing to wipe out the memory of old
defeats, and I gripped my axe and shield and waited for my turn to
come.
There was a little time while I might see all that happened, and at
the first rush I saw Biorn's men give back a pace--no more--and win
their place again. I saw our horsemen watching for a chance to
charge in on the Danish flank, and I saw the Danish riders wheeling
to meet them. Then I must keep my eyes for what was before me, for
men were falling. Then Ottar began to sing, and his voice rose over
the cries of battle, and rang in tune with the sword strokes as it
seemed to me, and with his singing came to me, as to many, the
longing to do great deeds and to fall if I might but be sung thus.
Then I saw a Dane fell one of the vikings, and leap at the men of
Olaf's shield wall, and an axe flashed and he went down. The
fighting was coming nearer to me, and I watched and waited, and I
knew that I had never seen so stern a fight as this, for before me
Olaf's veterans fought against Swein's--the trained thingmen who
held the towns. And neither side had ever known defeat, and it
seemed to me that surely we must fight till all were slain, for
these were men who would not yield.
Then was a gap in the ranks before me for a moment, and through it
glanced like light a long spear with a hook that caught the edge of
Prat's red shield and tore it aside; and I smote it and cut the
shaft in twain, so that it was but wood that darted against Prat's
mail, and he said, "Thanks, master," and smiled at me, for the
ranks had closed up again.
Then before me I saw Egil's black armour, and the mighty form of
the chief who had led the mounted Danes; and they rushed on us and
their men followed them, and in a moment one was shield to shield
with me, and I took his blow on mine, and my stroke went home on
his helm, and he fell at my feet, swaying backwards, while over him
tripped Egil, and lost his footing, and came with a heavy fall
against me, so close and suddenly that I could not strike him or he
me, and I grappled with him and we went down together.
Then my spearmen roared "Out, out!" and charged on the Danes who
had broken our line thus, and I heard Olaf's voice shouting, and
then I was inside our line behind the heels of the men who fought,
and struggling with the Danish chief for mastery.
That was a tough wrestle, but I had been in training with Olaf, and
the Dane had been shut up in the town at ease; and at last he gave
way, and I knelt on his broad chest, drew my seax, and bade him
yield.
"Not I," he said, panting for breath.
But I would not slay a brave warrior who had fallen as I knew by
chance, and so I said--for fighting was too hot for any man to pay
heed to us, as his Danes were trying to reach him through my
spearmen:
"You had better. For you have fought well, and this is but chance."
"Tie me up, then," he growled. "Who are you?"
"Olaf's cousin," said I.
"I can yield to you, then," he said; "take my sword and tie me up,
for I will escape if I can."
Then two spearmen turned and shouted, and went to drive their
weapons into the body of my foe, and I put my shield in the way.
"Strike not a fallen man," I said, and they forebore, ashamed.
Then I loosed the baldric that his sword hung in--his axe was gone
as he fell or wrestled--and took the weapon. And lo! it was sword
Foe's Bane, my father's sword; and I cast away my axe and gripped
the well-known hilt, and bade the spearmen guard my captive, and
turned back into the fight. And all this had gone by in a whirl, as
it were, and the Danes were still striving to regain their lord,
while Olaf and Ottar were smiting unceasingly. Only Prat was gone,
while now our whole line was of spearmen and vikings mingled, and
the Danish line was in no sort of order, but I thought they
prepared for another rush on us.
Then it came, and we were driven back fighting; it slackened, and
we took our ground again. And then I know not what sign Olaf saw in
the faces of the Danes before him, but suddenly he spoke, and our
war horns brayed. Then Ottar raised the standard and pointed it
forward, and there rose a thundering cheer from our whole line as
we charged and swept the Danes before us, spear and axe and sword
cleaving their way unchecked. And surely sword Foe's Bane wiped out
the dishonour of biding in a foeman's power that day.
Then rode our horsemen among the disordered crowd, and that was the
end. The Danes broke and fled, and Olaf had won his seventh battle,
and I had seen victory at last; moreover the sword of Thorgeir was
in my hand.
The light-armed men and the riders followed the flying Danes, and
Olaf sheathed his red sword with the light of victory shining on
his face, and while the men cheered around us he put his hand on my
shoulder and asked if I were hurt.
"I saw you fall, cousin," he said, "but I could not win to you. The
Danes pressed on to reach the man you had down."
"It was Egil," I said. "I am not hurt--are you touched?"
And he was not, but it was our good mail that had saved us both.
There would be work for the armourer by and by before we could wear
it again, for after Egil had fallen I had been beside the king, and
there was no lack of blows before the time had come when our charge
ended the matter. Only three of his six shield men and two of mine
were left.
But Prat was slain, and many another good warrior lay dead where
our line had been.
Now when I looked for Egil he was gone. The two spearmen lay where
I thought he had been, and I looked to find him slain also. So I
asked the men round me, and at last found one who had seen him
dragged up by the rush that bore us back. And so he had escaped.
"That is the chance of war," said Olaf, "but you could not have
slain him with honour."
"Nevertheless," said Ottar, "Redwald has a sure token there that he
overcame him," and he pointed to my sword.
"It is my father's sword," I said. "It has come back to me, even as
you said it would."
"They have not said too much of sword Foe's Bane," Ottar answered.
"For I have seen you use it--and I think that Hneitir is hardly
more handsome."
Now came that which is the most terrible part of a battle, even for
the victors, and that is the calling of the roll. And sad enough
were we when that was done, for the loss was heavy. Yet what the
loss was to the Danes I cannot say, for our men chased them till
there were no two left together to make a stand among those who had
not found safety in the woods that fringe the heath.
Then we bore back our wounded--and they were many--to Bures, and it
was noonday when we reached there. But there was no rest for Olaf
yet, for Colchester must be barred against the Danes.
He and I therefore took a hundred of our men, mounting them on the
freshest of the horses, and covered the nine miles between us and
the town as quickly as we might. Very fair the old place looked to
me as we crossed the Colne and saw the walls among the trees on the
steep hillside, and the houses nestling against it. The gates were
shut, and there was a strong guard along the ramparts on either
side, and we halted and summoned the townsfolk to surrender to
Ethelred in peace.
Doubtless some flying Danes had brought news of how the battle had
gone, for at once the gates were opened to us, and the chief men
came out and prayed for favour at Olaf's hands, and he told them
that Ethelred their king would take no revenge on them for having
bowed to Swein and his mighty force. So there was rejoicing in
Colchester, for it seemed to the townsfolk that peace had surely
come at last, and with it relief from the oppression of the
thingmen. For these warriors had carried matters with a high hand,
so that no Anglian dared to call them aught but lord--it must be
"lord Dane" if they spoke even to the meanest of the hosts and the
gravest burgher must give way to some footman of Swein's if they
met in street or on bridge. So they were not loved.
Olaf bade the townspeople prove their loyalty by taking all the
Danish warriors who were in the place, and bringing them to him on
the market hill where the great roads cross. Then was fighting in
Colchester for a while, but in the end, towards sunset, there was a
sullen gathering of them enough, and many were wounded.
Then the king went and spoke to them.
"What think you that I will do to you?" he asked.
"Even as we would do to you," one said.
"Hang me, maybe?" said Olaf.
"Aye, what else?" the man answered in a careless way, but looking
more anxious than he would wish one to see.
"I do not hang good warriors," the king said. "What would you do if
I gave you life?"
"What bargain do you want to make?" said the Dane.
"If I put you into a ship and let you go, will you promise to take
a message for me to Cnut, and not to come back to England as foes?"
"If that is all, we will do it," the man answered, while his look
grew less careful, and the other men assented readily enough with
the fierce townsmen and their broad spears waiting around them.
"Go and tell Cnut, then, that Ethelred is king, and how you have
fared. That is all I bid you. Are there any Norsemen among you?"
There were eight or ten among the six-score prisoners, and Olaf
spoke aside with them.
"Go back to our own land and say what you have seen of the dealings
of Olaf Haraldsson with those who fight bravely though against him.
And if when you hear that I have returned to Norway you come and
mind me of today, I will give you a place among my own men."
Then they said that they would fain serve him now; but he would not
have that, and then they said that they would surely come to him if
they heard that he was anywhere in their land.
There were two trading busses in the river, and into these vessels
we put the Danes, giving them all they needed to take them back to
Denmark, but leaving them no arms. The townsfolk would have it that
they would return and take revenge in spite of their promise, but
Olaf told them that they must not fear so few men, but rather take
care to be ready against the coming of more.
So the Danes sailed away down the river and to sea, and whether
they kept their promise or not I cannot say. But I think that Olaf
had done somewhat towards preparing a welcome for himself when he
should return to his own land by acting thus. I would that Ethelred
and Eadmund had been wise as he, for by forgiveness they would have
won men to them. But evil counsel was ever waiting on them, and
maybe they are not to blame so much as is he who gave it.
There were no men of note among these Danes whom we took, and we
thought that Ulfkytel would maybe hear of Egil before long, if he
could by any means get his scattered forces together. Yet the rout
was very complete, else he would have been back in Colchester
before us.
The townsfolk made a great feast in Colchester for us that night,
and next day Olaf called the headmen and set all in order for
Ethelred the king. And we thought that the town was safe for him,
for a levy would be made to hold the place at once. We rode back to
Bures in the evening, therefore, taking a few of our men as a guard
lest there should be parties of Danes on the road--a likely thing
enough, as a beaten and disbanded force in a hostile land must live
by plunder, for a time at least. But we met none.