King Penda's Captain: A Romance of Fighting in the Days of the Anglo-Saxons

CHAPTER XXVII

Chapter 271,738 wordsPublic domain

THE FIGHT IN FENLAND

Then did Feargus mind him of his promise to return to save his friend Edwy. So king Nechtan called a council and sent to his shipmen to make ready, and gathered together a host and set Feargus in command with Duncan and Alastair and others who had been in Mercia with Penda. And right gladly they armed them to serve once more their mighty captain; and on the morrow reached the ships and sailed for the land of Lindesey. So with good winds they soon made the coast and anchored fast their ships in the river Witham and sailed in smaller boats into the fen country; and when they had gotten well within it they landed, and made for the woods and there found Edwy at the trysting place. Right full of gladness were he and his men to see the Albanich, and when he beheld Feargus at their head he was like to one beside himself for gladness. Then said he to his men, “Now of a surety shall my father be avenged and our country saved from the spoiler, for here is the greatest captain in all this land to lead us, with such a company of giants as was never seen, and every man a brother to his fellow, so that little wonder it is that they have always the victory.”

Then said Feargus, “Now, good Edwy, we will to the war if thou wilt lead us through these marshes.”

“We will have less journey to travel than methought at the first, for Osbert hath found that I have betaken me to the fens and for many days past we have been hunted like wolves, by men and dogs.”

“Then what is thy wish?”

“The army of Osbert lieth only some twenty miles northward of us. My rede is that we march by night, keeping the woods by day, until we come up with them, and fall upon them privily in the dark, for by such means will we save our men and much bloodshed.”

“Thy counsel is good; what dost think, Duncan, and thou, Alastair?”

“Better rede we cannot offer.”

“Then so it shall be,” said Feargus, “and how far doth their host lie from the river?”

“Twenty miles from Witham by the water.”

“And dost know the ground?”

“None should know it better.”

“Then thou canst place us all around his camp, that we may attack together?”

“That can I, if thy men can keep silence.”

“As silent as the stars they can be, or as the fish that swim in the sea. Let us row up to the point where Witham joins the Bane Water, and there leave the boats in among the reeds.”

That same night they hied them back to the boats and rowed up among all that fen water, and no man spoke, and no sound broke the night save the cry of the peaseweeps and the whaups which anon flew across the boats’ track as they rowed. And the osiers swayed in the night wind and the long train of boats full of giant forms glided up the grey water. At length they landed and marched northward along the bank of the river Bane which flows into Witham. At daybreak they halted and lay in a small wood hard by until nightfall, then on. And when they drew nigh to where the host of Osbert lay, Feargus bid Duncan cross the stream to the west side and there strike through the wood a piece, when they were to turn them east till they saw the camp of the enemy. Edwy he sent also on along the other bank to return upon Osbert when he had won north of his army, while Alastair was to close in likewise from the east shielded by the osiers. And Feargus himself held the south with the road to their boats. And so each force was to wait till its captain heard the signal from the other three, which he was to answer with a wolf’s cry, at which they were to close in and attack, Edwy first with his Lindeseymen.

In Osbert’s camp all was feasting and merriment that night, but at last the whole host lay sleeping, and even the watchers around the camp dozed; till one, a half-drunk soldier, who paced the river side, heard the cry of the howlet from the wood which lay to the west of them, then answering cries from the northward and east, and the man wondered that so many owls should be about, and kicked the bits of wood into the stream with half-tipsy thoughtfulness. Twice the cry came again from the east, then Feargus from the south gave the answering cry—their first round of signals. Then each captain led his men in towards the camp and drew so near that, all being sunk in sleep, they could hear the tread of the watchers. Still the soldier paced the water side, until of a sudden, close to him on the west, he heard the cry of the wolf, then from the north and east the same weird sound arose; then came a pause, and Feargus, peering through the bulrushes in the river, singled out the camp of Osbert himself. At that moment the sentry was wondering whether to call the night guard seeing there were so many wolves abroad, but he fixed an arrow in his bow and waited, stirring the fire to brighter blaze to scare the wild creatures. Then from the south Feargus uttered the cry which was the final signal and all in a moment came the sound of the rush of Edwy and his Lindeseymen through the long sweet meadow grass to the north of them and the death cry of a wounded Anglian arose into the night. In a moment the camp of Osbert was awake and men were running wildly hither and thither, tumbling over one another in their hurry to get their arms, and the captains shouted to the men and the men knew not what had happened. Then midst all the confusion came showers of arrows from the osier planting to the east, showers from the wood that skirted them to the west, and showers from the bulrushes which lined the river bed. When they turned east the osiers started to life and dark and silent forms dashed forth to fall upon them like a frost wind upon the fields. Then the host of Osbert, half armed and half mad with fear, turned west, when the willow wood on that side of them rendered up its armed host, and Duncan and his Picts came upon them claymore in hand. Osbert’s captains shouted once more for order and urged their men to stand fast and set out the bowmen, and Osbert himself marshalled them and encouraged those that wrought with spears here, there the swordsmen. But to the Anglians and Lindeseymen, used as they were to the noise and rush of battle, the war cry and the clash of arms, there was something fearsome in the silence of their foes, and in their unusual size and garb. Osbert, finding enemies on three sides of him now turned his men with their backs to the river to protect their flank, when lo! a shower of arrows flew among them from the flank and the Anglians who stood in the rear ranks fell in droves, and as the terrible sense of being trapped by a silent and unknown foe, of seemingly overwhelming numbers, crept over the terrified and demoralised footmen, they heard the splash of water and the southward wing of the Picts under Feargus left their lair among the bulrushes, and dashed through the water breast deep. In an instant the river bank was alive with men of giant shape, who burst upon them, their long plaids floating in the wind behind, and for the first time the night was startled by the voices of their foemen as they raised the old shout of “Albanich! Albanich!” and from east and west came answering cries “Albanich! Albanich!” from the followers of Duncan and Alastair; while from the north rose the shout of “Lindesey! Lindesey! God save King Edwy!” Then Osbert knew that his old enemy had returned and that Edwy the hunted had turned hunter and had trapped the game, and he trembled. And there arose a din as though Babel were loosened. Again Osbert ordered his men to stand fast, but ordering was useless now, and after an hour’s desperate fighting, utterly beaten, the whole host turned and fled over the dark fen. Then, seeing the Picts start in pursuit, Edwy called aloud to those near him, “Pardon to all! Let the others go, but spare not the murderer,” and so he ran towards where he believed Osbert to be, and it was then about the dawn so that he could well distinguish faces. Soon there started one up before him and struck the weapon suddenly from his hand, saying, “Ha! king of Lindesey, I have sought thee long; my time and thy time have come together,” and so he rushed upon him, fury in his eyes.

“Nay, not so fast—thou canst war well on old men and boys; thou art able to fight bigger folk, and here is one for thee,” said Duncan, “thou and I have long been debtors each to other.”

Osbert waited no more, but turned suddenly upon him with all his force, but he had one to deal with stronger and more skilled than himself and he fell back, stabbed through the heart. So died the arch traitor who had given great trouble to many, whereof this history treats. Then Feargus and Duncan and Alastair brought in their men, and Feargus calling the Lindeseymen and all the captains around him, took the circlet of gold from the helm of Osbert and placed it on the brow of Edwy. Then all the warriors raised a great shout and cried, “God save king Edwy!” And so they fell to the booty, which they found in the camp of Osbert, and made themselves a great feast. And after they had rested and feasted them, they marched across towards Lindum, taking with them the head of Osbert. When they reached the city set on the hill, the people came forth to meet them, and all men swore to follow the king.