Chapter Eleven
Flight
Wallace moaned and opened his eyes. He looked at us blearily for a moment then spoke.
“Where...?”
“We managed to escape, my Lord. We are hiding in an abandoned part of the fort ...” I started to explain, but by then Wallace had closed his eyes again. However, he was not asleep.
“It’s alright ... Cerdic ... I can hear you,” he said, “I’m just aching all over and this arm is killing me. I’m not as young as I once was and hanging for hours out there in the rain, it nearly finished me, I can tell you. But, I’m not dead yet, so carry on please. Do you have a plan for escape?”
“Well, I guess the first thing we need to know is where Samlen and his men are,” I said, turning to Aedann and then asking him a question. “Have you any idea, Aedann?”
Wallace’s eyes shot open.
“Aedann: your slave? I thought he was the traitor?”
I shook my head, took a deep breath and told Wallace about what Aedann was doing here and then about Hussa. When I said that it was in fact Hussa who was the traitor, Wallace frowned.
“Are you sure about this, Cerdic, you aren’t ...” he hesitated, perhaps unsure how to phrase his question, “you aren’t ... leaping to conclusions, hoping that Hussa really is the culprit?”
I knew what he was thinking: that maybe I would jump at the chance to implicate my half-brother and dirty his name. I shook my head.
“No, my Lord. Oh, I know all about ...” I stopped abruptly and looked at Lilla and Aedann. How much did they know? Ah well, this was no time to worry about that. “I know all about my father and Hussa’s mother,” I said. “I know Hussa is my half-brother − my father’s bastard son – and I know he blames me for the fact that our father rejected him, albeit at my mother’s insistence, when she was carrying me.” I stared at Lilla, challenging him to say something, but he kept quiet and just listened, so I went on. “So, I can see why you might think I have a motive to falsely accuse the man, but truly I am not − am I Lilla? Aedann?”
“Lord Wallace, all that Cerdic says is true − I heard it myself from Hussa, not two hours ago,” Lilla said and then turned to me. “Don’t worry, Cerdic, I won’t tell anyone about your father. I make stories and songs: I don’t spread gossip. You have my word.”
“Mine too ... Master,” Aedann agreed.
The fire cracked and popped and we all looked into the flames for a moment.
“Well then, Aedann,” Wallace asked at last, “do you know where Samlen went?”
Aedann shrugged.
“When I saw his troops gathering on the parade ground, I decided to find that out if I could, so I tried to sneak out through one of the ruined sections of wall to the west. The stonework has fallen away and the gap filled in with wooden debris,” he explained. “It’s not hard to pull that away and make a hole. That’s how I got in and out during the night the first time and I used it again yesterday to get back in. I thought that I might follow Samlen a little way and see where he was heading, so when I saw them leaving I went back to the gap, but that time there were guards up on the wall nearby and I couldn’t get out for fear of being seen.”
“So you didn’t see which direction they were heading in?” Wallace asked, sounding disappointed.
No, my Lord, I’m sorry,” Aedann said, adding as an afterthought, “but they went out the west gate.”
“Towards Loidis, maybe,” Wallace mused.
“Do we know how strong the garrison is now they have gone?” I asked Aedann.
He nodded at that.
“Well, approximately. Samlen took two hundred men away with him. That leaves fifty or so warriors.”
“Fifty? We can manage fifty, Lord,” I suggested, “that is, if we can free the company and get our weapons.”
Wallace nodded, “Yes, even without weapons, if it comes to it.” Then he cocked his head to one side, noticing that Aedann was shaking his head. “What? What is it?”
“I think they also have cavalry here.”
“Cavalry?” Wallace asked, his voice tense, “How many?”
“That I don’t know, but I saw twenty or so patrolling around the fort yesterday and I don’t think any mounted men went with Samlen: none that I saw, in any event.”
Wallace looked questioningly at me and then at Lilla, “That puts a different light on it.”
We looked at each other and grimaced. Cavalry could be a problem: to us, anyway. Like all Saxon armies we did not use horses in war much at all, other than for our leaders, messengers and lords. Lilla had once told us stories of the Welsh using regiments of cavalry in the past and how terrifying that could be. He looked a little anxious now, but I just shrugged.
“Look, if we need to, we will cope with them ... Lord?” This last word was to Wallace, who was slumped down, head lolling about, looking rather green and I now noticed that he was shivering again.
“Cerdic ... sorry, I can’t think. You must come up with something ...,” he slurred and then drifted off again. Lilla went across and wrapped his own cloak around Wallace.
Sitting back on his heels the bard shook his head. “Whatever we do, we must do it fast. He won’t last long.”
I nodded and turned back to Aedann. “Where are our weapons?”
“That, I do know. I saw Peredur have his men stack them all in the cart they had with them when he captured you. The cart was on the corner of the parade ground behind the Headquarters building, but when it started to rain I saw some men move it to a storeroom and wheel it inside.”
I tapped my fingers on the ground for a few moments whilst I thought about the problem. To be honest, there were not too many options open to us, so I decided on a plan quickly enough and spelt it out to the other two.
“Aedann and I will go to the storeroom and see about getting the cart. Lilla, you carry Wallace and hide near the building where our company are being held. We release our men, grab up our weapons and Wallace can be loaded on the cart. Then we find and free the townsfolk and get out. Obviously, sooner or later, the alarm will go off and then it could be hard for us, but it sounds as if we have about as many men as the garrison - assuming they have a similar number of cavalry to foot soldiers. If there are more, well ...” I shrugged, “we just have to take our chances.”
It was not much of a plan, but the night was drawing to a close and the next couple of hours − the time before dawn − was the best for stealth and surprise.
Outside, it was drizzling gently. That was fine by me, as it was likely to dissuade the Welsh from wandering about. It was also still dark, although over the eastern wall, towards Deira and my home, the sky was beginning to lighten.
Aedann and I left the abandoned infirmary first, keeping to the darkest shadows around the buildings and avoiding the open parade ground. We edged round the square, past the workshop where the company were locked up and across the northern side of the parade ground, until we came to the storeroom. I tried the door and with a horrendous creaking that set my teeth on edge, it opened. I moved inside, but then I stopped after a few paces because I could now see almost nothing in the pitch dark interior. We had no alternative but to swing the doors wide open to let in some of the silvery light from outside.
The light was still pathetically weak, but it was enough to see the cart standing in the middle of a large room, which had work benches along the left side. A few rusting tools hung on the walls above the benches. Edging carefully forward, I reached out with my fingers and gently grabbed the cart handles and tried to pull on them. With the weight of eighty swords, spears and shields upon it, it was extraordinarily heavy and I simply could not budge it. Aedann took the other handle and together, we could now shift it. Hardly daring to breathe, we carefully manoeuvred it towards the door.
We managed to get the cart out of the shed, but it was when I tried to turn it that things went wrong. The heap of weapons and shields were precariously balanced at best. As we turned it the cart gave a lu
rch to the side and a half dozen spears, a couple of shields and an axe slid off the pile, teetered on the edge and then with an ear splitting crash fell to earth.
We froze as the echoes of the horrendous sound died away. The silence of the night descended once more on the fort. After a moment I let out a breath I had been holding. Aedann shrugged at me - his raised eyebrows showing he was asking the same question as I. Had we got away with it? Then Aedann's face turned into a scowl and I glanced at where he was staring. High up on the side of the fort a light flared in a window as a candle or lamp was lit. Two figures were illuminated by the light - two men peering towards us. A moment later they were gone. Then we heard shouting from inside the fort. It was time to be gone.
“Move now: go!” I hissed at Aedann and we hurtled forward. Across the parade ground we ran, cart bouncing along behind us. Spears and shields clattered up and down and more fell over the side, making a dreadful din as they too crashed to the ground.
“Carry on, don’t stop now!” I urged Aedann on, though we were panting under the effort. I could now see our two companions lurking in the darkness next to the building we were heading for. We came to a halt and stood for a moment, catching our breath. Lilla took pity on us and running to the cart, found an axe then ran with it to the workshop door. He removed the bar with one hand and tossed it to the side then he thrust the axe blade into the gap between the doors and gave a mighty wrench one way and then the other, cracking the wood around the lock.
The door was still shut and the lock was holding. Lilla tried again, but the wood was strong and he could not yet break it open.
Over towards the Headquarters building, there was a shout of challenge and a dozen Elmetae armed with swords and shields came running at us.
“Eduard!” I yelled, “Eduard! Can you hear me?”
A muffled response came from inside the workshop.
“You must break the door down: quickly man!”
I then turned and rooted about in the cart for a moment, found myself a shield and then I gave a whoop of triumph as underneath the shield I saw the sword I had taken from the Welsh warrior I’d killed at the Villa. I seized it eagerly and went and stood beside Aedann, who was armed with a spear and shield. The cart was on one side of us and the corner of the prison building on the other, which gave us some cover as well as protecting our flanks, at least until the Elmetae could work their way round the other side of the cart. The first two warriors arrived and charged forward, one swinging a battleaxe and the other a sword. I took the blow on my shield and then hacked back with my sword. I connected with the man’s shoulder and he fell away, blood spouting. Aedann had been knocked down by his assailant, who was now on my flank. I cut across at him and felt the blade slice into his sword arm. He dropped his sword, staggered backwards and Aedann, scrambling to his feet rammed his shield into the man’s face, crushing his nose. As the Elmetae fell to the ground, Aedann picked up the warrior’s sword and slashed it across his throat, killing him. There was no time to think about it. To our left, Lilla had found a bow amongst the weapons and was firing over the cart at the group milling around it. Wallace was conscious again, at least for the moment and having located his sword, was standing in the gap beyond the cart, somehow managing to hold back four Welshmen. The man’s grit was remarkable, but I caught the look of agony in his eyes and knew he would not long stay on his feet.
Suddenly, the cart moved. Three of the enemy were pulling it away so they could get at us. Lilla seized one handle and heaved it back, towards him. Wallace staggered across from the wall of the building and dropping his sword held onto the other, but we were outmatched and outnumbered and a moment later there was a gap in our defences and half a dozen of them were surging through it.
From behind me, there was a crash and a splintering noise and the doors burst asunder. With a roar, Eduard came out first, swinging a loose plank of wood and leading the company in a charge. Like caged and very angry bears suddenly finding themselves free they fell upon the stunned Elmetae, and it was they who were now outnumbered. The fight did not last long after that. Quickly now, every man armed himself. Cuthbert took his bow back from Lilla and examined it anxiously, like a mother taking her child into her arms. So, we had our weapons back and had freed the company, but now we had to find our captured families and still get away. In the distance I could hear shouts; the remaining garrison was rousing. We had only moments before they were upon us. Wallace, barely conscious, was bundled unceremoniously onto the empty cart and pulling it behind us, we headed towards the barracks where Aedann had said the prisoners were kept, all the while scanning our surroundings in the growing light and waiting for the next attack.
As I headed that way, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to see Grettir, looking grim and unhappy.
“Master Cerdic, you have given that traitorous slave a sword,” he said with a jerk of the head at Aedann. I sighed, wearily.
“He took it himself from a man he killed, Grettir. He is on our side.”
“But, your father said ...”
“My father is not here!” I shouted and several of the company turned at the noise.
I lowered my voice and whispered to my tutor. “My father is not here: I am. So leave it, Grettir.”
“But ...”
“I said leave it!” I shouted.
Grettir recoiled, then just nodded his head curtly and said no more.
I headed away from him, leaving him to brood on his own. I had no time for discussion. The sun was just starting to rise now and casting its early light on a dozen bodies lying on the ancient fort’s parade ground. I wondered how many more would be dead before the sun went down.
To the north of the parade ground, beyond the store houses and workshops, there were two rows of long and low barrack buildings: a row of six immediately across our path and then another row between those and the north wall, where there was a gatehouse. Narrow paths passed between each block and the adjacent path linked to another, thus dividing the rows and creating a maze of passageways.
“This way!” shouted Aedann, running down the middle passageway between buildings, which each possessed decaying roofs and rotten doors.
Up ahead, the narrow passage and the one joining it at right angles formed a crossroads.
Suddenly, just as he reached this junction, Aedann gave a cry of alarm and tumbled to the ground. In the space where his head had been a moment before, a spear point was thrust from around the right hand corner. Eduard was just behind Aedann and had to swerve to avoid being impaled. He ran on past the spear head and twisting as he did, grasped the shaft and pulled at it. With a curse, a surprised enemy warrior came hurtling forwards, overbalanced and then, as he tottered forward, he fell to the axe of Sigmund and a swift stab of my sword.
As Aedann scrambled to his feet he followed Eduard, who had carried on around the corner to the right. I, Cuthbert and three others raced after them.
We found a dozen more Elmetae lurking between the back of the barracks and the front of the next row. The space was confined and the numerical advantage of the company pressing up from behind was not going to help. Yelling their challenge, the enemy warriors levelled their spears and advanced towards us. Suddenly, from the rear of the column, I heard Lilla give a shout of surprise. Helped by two other men he had been hauling Wallace along on his cart and had been caught by more warriors coming from Samlen’s Headquarters across the parade ground. One of our men was now dead and Lilla was swinging a seax wildly at three warriors, whilst screaming for help. A lad from Wicstun at his side held five more at bay with his spear. Grettir took half a dozen men back to help them and they charged at the Welshmen, drove them back and then retreated, pulling the cart across so that it partially blocked the passageway. More of our men rushed to the rear and with a clattering of wood they linked shields to block the approach. Lilla staggered forward to the crossroads, blood tricking from a wound on his scalp. He leant against the wall of a barracks and took several
deep breaths. I trotted over to join him and looked around, trying to work out what to do next.
The fight was now in the tightly confined spaces at the company’s rear and along the righthand passageway. That left two routes still open. The passage to the left was blocked by rubble from the adjacent building, the rear wall having collapsed into it making it impassable. The way ahead seemed clear and peering in that direction I could see it led to the palisade at the north wall of the fort − the wall opposite the way we had come in.
“Aedann!” I yelled. He was fighting in the righthand passage. His enemy, a big brute with a bald head and scars all over his arms, was swinging a huge axe two-handed. Aedann watched the weapon come at him, parried it with his shield and then rushed the man, hacking at him with his seax. The man brought back his axe to block the attack and then they were locked in a desperate exchange of blows. Distracted by Aedann, the warrior did not see Eduard’s spear thrust until it had impaled him. With the warrior to his front writhing on the ground, Aedann rejoined me.
“Which way are they?” I shouted, above the din.
He pointed further along the passage leading through the next row of barracks.
“That way and then turn left before you reach the outer wall. Be careful to the right though, because the northern gatehouse is there and it will be manned. The prisoners are in a barracks two over with the door facing the north wall.”
I looked back down the south passage and saw that Wallace was unconscious again and slumped in his cart. Sigmund was his second in command and I shouted to him.
“What is it lad?” he bellowed and looked my way.
“We have to go this way, Sigmund! Aedann says that is where our people are.”
“You sure you trust him?” he asked, looking doubtful as he disengaged from the fight, after being replaced by another man from the village.
I looked at Aedann and hesitated.
“Not before an hour ago,” I confessed, “but he freed us and had plenty of opportunity to betray us, besides which, his parents are prisoners of Samlen, as well.”
Sigmund nodded and waved several of the men past him up the passageway. Just then, Cuthbert yelled for our attention. He was gesturing, not into the melee that rumbled on in the side passage, but upwards towards the roof of one of the rear barracks. Three Welsh archers were up there and were firing down at us. One missile grazed Cuthbert’s shoulder and buried itself into the ground behind me. Another flew high and smashed ineffectively into the wall to the side. The third arrow leapt forth from the bow of its archer, flew straight and true towards us finally smacking, with a sickening noise, into Sigmund’s throat.
He stared at me, an expression of utter disbelief on his face, then staggered back against Aedann and slid to the ground, quite dead.
“Bollocks to this!” Cuthbert swore, looking down at Sigmund’s body. Then he whirled round and fired two arrows at the enemy. The first shot an archer through the face, killing him instantly. The second hit his comrade in his shoulder, knocking him screaming from the roof. The remaining archer flashed him a look of abject horror and then scuttled back, over the roof top and out of sight.
The closest of our men had seen Sigmund die and many were now looking restless and began to edge back, away from the enemy. If I was honest, I felt like joining them. Wallace was unconscious, Sigmund dead and the man who had fallen at the rear of the company was the oldest headman of the other village contingents. If Cuthwine had been here, he would have been next in line. But, he was not and whatever father said, I was unsure I could fill his shoes. Suddenly, Lilla was at my side, looking sadly down at Sigmund. He then studied my face and I could see that he could detect the doubt in my eyes. Lilla, used to reading an audience, could also feel the panic rising about him. But, he also knew how and when to play a role and did so now.
“Master Cerdic, what are your orders? Should we carry on down this passageway as Sigmund ordered?”
Well, I might not be as bright as Lilla, but I hope that I am not as hesitant as Aethelric. I could take a hint and gladly took one now.
“Yes ... Yes ... er, Eduard − you and twenty men hold them here. Lilla − go and tell Grettir to start pulling back this way and then try and help Eduard force a path along that eastern passage. We need to get to the east gate and out that way if we are to find the road home. I’ll get the prisoners and return here. Go now,” I added, as loud as I could; trying to sound confident. Then, turning to the men around me I shouted, “Everyone else: this way, follow me!”
Not waiting to see if anyone did, I ran. It was not much of a speech and I just had to hope they would follow. Aedann told me later that most of the Wicstun Company had looked doubtful, I was only a youth after all, but Lilla, Cuthbert and Eduard bellowed acceptance. Cuthbert and Aedann ran after me and after a moment, the rest of the company followed. I may have been a wet behind the ears greenhorn, but I was still heir to the Villa and that gave me authority. Or else, perhaps the men just wanted someone to make the choices for them. Whatever the reason I did not care and follow me they did.
I now had forty men with me. The other half of the company were fighting under Eduard and Grettir. I reached the end of the passageway and glanced right. There was a gatehouse there just as Aedann had said. Half a dozen Elmetae were on the battlements above the gateway, peering anxiously towards the noise of the fighting. When we emerged, they gave a shout and one of them started firing sling shots at us, though we were at their extreme range and the missiles fell well short. I left Cuthbert and singled out ten of our own slingers to harass them with arrows and sling shots then carried on round to the barracks where the prisoners were.
I thought of Mildrith somewhere within, no doubt terrified by the noise of fighting and having already suffered the gods knew what horrors. I rushed on, eager to free her, Aedann by my side no doubt motivated by the thoughts of his parents, keeping pace with me.
We did not see the two horsemen, until it was almost too late.
“Look out on the right!” one of the men behind yelled and we saw them at the very last moment: two horses galloping straight towards us. Astride them were armoured horsemen, their mail shirts glinting golden in the sunlight. Red cloaks streamed out behind them like tongues of fire and in front, aiming at our hearts, a pair of long lances with bright, sharp points, which now came to claim their victims.
Neither I nor Aedann had spears that might have kept the horses away; instead we each carried a sword. Our only hope was agility. We leapt apart and rolled across the ground. Hooves thundered by an inch from my face, one of them caught my sword and knocked it out of my hand whilst another had caught Aedann a glancing blow in the side of his chest. He now lay, a screwed up ball of agony, by my side. The horsemen galloped past and turned to come again, but by then the rest of our company had caught us up and the enemy, outnumbered as they were, fell back towards the corner of the fort. From there they watched for a chance to dart in again and strike at us.
Rubbing his ribs, Aedann got to his feet and we were off again.
The barracks were unguarded, but had been locked and so one of the woodsmen from Little Compton used a hatchet to hack his way through the door. Once inside, we discovered a scene of utter pandemonium. The villagers and townsfolk were convinced the Welsh were now coming to kill them and so, screaming and panicking, they had backed away into a corner: mothers hiding their children behind them, their faces pale with terror. At first, after we had entered, we were not recognised by the bewildered captives, but one by one the prisoners saw a familiar face and relaxed, cried out and then rushed over to us. I looked about for Mildrith, eager to find her too, but she did not seem to be here. Frantic now, I searched around, yet still I could not find her. Moving through the excited throng, I came upon Aedann. He had located Gwen, his mother, and was standing next to her holding her hands, so I rushed over to them.
“Gwen, where is Mildrith, I can’t ...” but, my words caught in my throat as I saw that her eyes were red
and filled with tears. I looked down and there I saw Caerfydd lying on a pile of rotten straw, a filthy sack for a blanket laid upon him. His eyes were open, but they looked up at us blankly: he was clearly dead.
“He was injured the evening of the raid, Master,” Gwen said with a sob. “They made us march through the night to get here and he had already taken a fever by the next day. I pleaded with them for help, but they just laughed at me. I said I was Welsh, but they hit me then and said I was a traitor to Britain and Eboracum for serving you Angles.”
I looked across at Aedann. His eyes were wet as well, but sorrow was already fading to anger, a look of implacable hatred stamped across his features.
“He got weaker and died in the last hour ...” Gwen finished.
I laid my arms about Aedann and Gwen’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. If I had been faster maybe ...”
Gwen shook her head. “No Master, he was already dying. Best he died in peace than have to be dragged along in torment.”
I nodded, but now had to ask about Mildrith.
Gwen looked at me, suddenly shocked.
“Master, forgive me. I tried to protect her and hide her, but that monster with one eye came looking for her last night. Seemed to know she was here and asked for her. She tried to hide, but he found her and then the brute dragged her screaming outside. I’m sorry ...” her voice trailed away and she broke down and wept.
I was horrified. Samlen had not thought much about Mildrith before last night, then. Not until I had lost control and blurted out her name. It was my fault she was gone and I was afraid I knew what he had in mind for her.
As if reading my thoughts, Gwen said, “He seemed taken by her − she is a beauty and no mistake. He said something about her being a ‘tasty morsel’ and saving her for the victory celebration ... and then ... then he said she would not have long to wait ...”
I nodded, but I was no longer listening. I had to get away after her; find Samlen and his men and free her. But I knew I could not just run out on the company. I swore under my breath, cursing the gods, and then shouted, perhaps harsher than I needed to, for everyone to move.
Once outside, I looked around at them all. There were thirty of whom only about ten might be able to fight if they needed to. We armed these as best we could then, with my gaze lingering on the pair of horseman still circling off towards the corner of the fort we herded our people along and set off back towards Cuthbert. It appeared that no more guards had joined the half dozen already at the gates, so I left him watching them and started down the narrow passageway.
I had hoped to force a way towards the east gate and get on the shortest road home. However, when I reached the crossroads again, I saw at once that this was not going to be possible. The fight had been escalating whilst I had been away. The south passage was blocked by twenty Elmetae and the cart, which had now had one wheel hacked off it and lay tipped over at an odd angle. Wallace was being helped back to where I was. He looked at me through misty eyes and I could see that he could not yet take command.
To the east, Eduard’s predicament was even worse. Thirty or more warriors had formed a solid shield wall at least five men deep. Eduard staggered back to me, blood dripping from a gash above one eye.
“It is no good, Cerdic, we cannot get out that way.”
“Right ... damn it! Erm ...”
There was nothing for it but to retreat back to the north side of the fort and go out of the north gate. To do that, I had to capture the gate.
“Hold them here!” I shouted at Eduard and then turned to the rest of the men, shoving the townsfolk out of my way.
“Back, go back. There is no way out this way! Follow me,” and I pushed through them to the space between the barracks and the north wall.
There were still only handfuls of Elmetae here and only half a dozen were holding the gatehouse. I sent Aedann and thirty of our men towards the gate to try to force it open. Turning back, I groaned when I spotted that on either side of where the company was fighting were other passageways running from the centre of the fort to the north gate. The two western ones I was not concerned with; many of the buildings over there seemed to have collapsed and blocked the access. The eastern passages were different, however, because the Welsh might try to bring men through them to outflank and surround our men still fighting in that maze. I took Cuthbert and the few archers and slingsmen we had and stationed them near the passageways to fire on any sign of movement.
Meanwhile, I went back and found Grettir. He had now retreated to the junction and was holding well there. Eduard could not progress, but was holding his own.
It was a tricky manoeuvre, but they had now to pull back both of their groups into the northern passageway. It had to be at the same time and we needed to be able to form up a shield wall again once we had done it.
Eduard glanced across at Grettir, who nodded and they both shouted, “Run lads!” Both of them at the same time hacked wildly about them to hold back the Welsh. Their men ran towards me, where I stood in the northern passage with half a dozen more men. We let them pass and then shouted to Eduard and Grettir. They turned and ran. Arrows spat at them and spears thrust forwards, but the Welsh were impeded by being bunched up and with Eduard grinning wildly and Grettir panting hard, they both passed me and we closed the gap.
I left Grettir and Eduard to command the rear guard and ran back to the gate. The cavalry force had grown. Four more had joined the the first two through a gap in the west wall, but six were not enough to worry us too much. I was more anxious that groups of the Welsh would appear through the other passageways, so I knew we must quickly take the gate.
Rushing to the north gate, I saw that it was still shut and barred. An archer and a slinger on the battlements above the gate were keeping us away with intermittent but accurate fire. At least one missile had found its mark, for I now spotted a youth from the village lying on the ground. His face screwed up in agony he was clutching at his arm, which looked broken. One of the other men was examining it and trying to strap it up.
Cuthbert had joined us when he saw the problem and was exchanging shots with the gatehouse guards. However, he had now started to run out of arrows and was gathering up those fired from the battlements, using them against their former owners. Others joined him and soon they gave a huge cheer as the Welsh archer fell screaming, an arrow through his lungs. The slingshot man hunkered down and kept out of view.
I picked up an abandoned shield, pushed through the company to the front and found Aedann. His face was grim, but when he caught me looking at him, he looked away. Time for talking later, his face said, and he was right. Lilla appeared and I sent him to fetch Grettir and Eduard and their men.
“Right then, we need that gate open. Come on!” and I ran forward screaming. Leadership seemed to be mostly about running towards the enemy and hoping to the gods that the other bastards followed you. Today they did. With a huge roar, the company surged forward and reached the gates. More Welshmen had climbed up to the battlements above us and were pelting us with whatever they could find. Others knelt and thrust spears down at us. We held our shields over our heads and I heard a din as something hard bounced off mine.
A moment’s effort had the bar on the gate removed and the gates pulled back, towards us. I stepped to the side and let the company pass and the townsfolk follow. I then looked back towards the passageway, waiting for Eduard and Grettir’s group to emerge. At first, no one came, but then at last I saw them backing out of the passage. Over towards the corner of the fort, the cavalrymen saw them as well and sensing an easier target, moved towards them.
“Eduard!” I bellowed trying to draw my friend’s attention to his danger, but he was too far away to hear me call.
“Cuthbert!” I shouted, now needing archers, but when Cuthbert arrived with his bow he had no arrows left.
I looked desperately towards Eduard and Grettir, and the dozen men with them. The horses walked forward; the lances dipped and as the riders du
g in their heels, the horses started to trot and then canter.
“Eduard!” I screamed, knowing it was in vain: my friends and the other men were doomed.
Then, the horsemen spurred into a gallop and charged.
The Amber Treasure Page 14
