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Chapter 14: To Battle
Cormac and Brian watched from their position, as the men of Mercia in the center formation, still beating their shields with their swords, marched up to the top of the ridge. It was an incredible, and even awesome sight.
"Just wish I could see the faces of those down there," said Brian. "They must be making an awful mess in their breeches at the sight of such a host."
"There's more of them down there than those of us up here," said Aethelwulf. "So I don't know if they would be making too much of a mess in their breeches, as you put it. Our advantage is that we have the heights, and we have to attack before they regroup into battle formation. Otherwise our advantage is minimized and their superior numbers will start telling on us."
"Can I peek over the edge?" asked Brian.
"No!" answered Aethelwulf. "We've been told to stay here. Don't worry--there'll be plenty of fighting for us to do."
"Aye," said Brian. "I just want to get this battle over with so I can be going home."
"You'll get home soon enough," said Aethelwulf.
The men in Aethelwulf's division were getting anxious, and some were craning their necks to see what they could.
"Every one of you stay down!" Aethelwulf called out sharply. "Our job is to follow orders, so we'll stay hidden until we are ordered forward."
"'Tis more noble to be in the center column," said one disgruntled soldier.
"Perhaps it is," said Aethelwulf. "But it is nobler still to follow the bidding of your king, and he has asked us to wait here. Let him be our general today, and not every one of us our own."
"The young man speaks wisely," said Cenwulf. "There'll be fighting enough for all of us."
After what seemed an eternity, but had only been a minute or two, Aethelstan in the van of the Mercian center raised his sword high over his head, and with a yell that could be heard far and wide, ordered the charge. Down the hill the Mercians started to charge, slowly at first, and in tight formation. Then they picked up speed, so that by the time they reached the bottom of the hill each man was running as fast as he could, with his sword held high, or his spear pointing out in front of him.
With a loud clash, the two armies joined in battle. The Mercians' attack formation was like a wedge, and it rammed into the disorganized center of the Saxon army. They broke through the first line of the Wessex men in several places.
Aethelstan fought like a man possessed, for he wanted the glory of killing the king of Wessex. His Mercian warriors followed hard behind him. The men of Wessex, initially very disorganized, were even more scattered by the fierceness of the Mercian onslaught. But slowly their extra numbers began to tell as they closed ranks. The battle at first was going Mercia's way, but now it was hard to tell who had the advantage.
The army of Sussex formed battle ranks in a more orderly manner and started to march in a wide flanking movement on the eastward side of the battle. Their intention was to try and fall on the Mercian rear, trapping them between their army and that of Wessex.
This tactic had been foreseen by the Mercian king, and was the reason that Aethelwulf and his men had been held in reserve until now.
Once the army of Sussex had completed its flanking maneuver, it started to move in to close the trap. Aethelwulf had crawled up to the top of the hill again, looking and waiting for the red flag that was his father's signal to them to advance.
It soon came, and Aethelwulf roused his men. They then started beating their swords against their shields as the left flank of the Mercian army showed itself at the top of the hill. Cormac and Brian joined in the dreadful racket.
Aethelwulf had been given about five hundred men to command, so it was quite a host that stood on the top of the hill looking down. The men of Sussex now realized that instead of catching the Mercians between themselves and the army of Wessex, they were now themselves caught between two wings of the Mercian army. This time it was Aethelwulf's turn to raise his arm and yell the war cry of the Mercians. With that the men swarmed over the hill, with Aethelwulf and Cenwulf in the vanguard. Cormac and Brian took up positions directly behind them as they ran down the hill.
Within moments they clashed into the men of Sussex, who had reformed to face this new attack. The momentum of the charge down the hill took a bloody initial toll on the men of Sussex. But soon everyone was engaged in deadly hand-to-hand combat.
The melee was so confusing it was hard to tell friend from foe at times. Cormac had left his sword sheathed and was using a long spear, similar to his javelin at home.
At least, he thought, I know how to wield this kind of weapon effectively.
But he had two missions here: to fight the enemies of his new friend, Aethelwulf, but also to guard his back. It was difficult, indeed, to keep an eye on his commander as he repeatedly disappeared into the thick of the battle.
"Brian, guard Aethelwulf's back," cried Cormac, as he lunged with his spear at one of the Sussexmen, piercing him in the arm.
The Saxon cursed loudly as he fell to the ground in agony. Cormac looked at him in pity, but was soon shaken out of his reverie by the sight of another Saxon lunging at him with his sword.
Cormac crouched, stuck the rear end of his spear into the ground, and pointed the tip at his Saxon opponent while holding his shield high to parry the oncoming blow of the sword. The Saxon had not been prepared for this maneuver and impaled himself on Cormac's spear.
A look of horror flashed across the Saxon's face as he fell. The spear twisted out of Cormac's hand and snapped under the weight of the dead opponent. More Saxons came at him, but by this time Brian was at his side.
"Get up, man!" he yelled above the din of battle. "You can't fight kneeling down."
Cormac stumbled back a few paces and drew his sword. Other Mercian soldiers rushed by them into the fray, and Cormac slipped back behind them to catch his breath.
It was then that Cormac noticed that Cedric was running past him, towards Aethelwulf.
Oh no! thought Cormac. He's going to assassinate Aethelwulf! Turning to run after him, Cormac slipped and fell heavily on the ground. All he could do was watch hopelessly as Cedric drew closer and closer to where Aethelwulf was.
Then, to his surprise, Cormac saw Cedric plunge his sword into the back of a treacherous Mercian soldier, who had at that moment raised his sword above his head to strike Aethelwulf in the back.
Aethelwulf turned at the same time and saw what had happened and nodded his appreciation to Cedric. "Thank you, good Cedric," he yelled above the clash of armor. "You have saved my life again."
"All in a day's work," yelled back Cedric.
Aethelwulf stepped back a few paces to catch his breath and to see where next to attack, just as Cormac struggled to his feet and ran to his side.
"I failed your wife," panted Cormac. "She charged me to look after your back."
"Well, it's a good thing that Cedric was there," Aethelwulf replied.
"I thought that he was going to kill ya," said Cormac, still breathing heavily.
"Cedric is my boon companion of many years," replied Aethelwulf.
Cormac shook his head. "He sure had me fooled."
"I'll explain later. Right now we have a battle to fight."
Cormac turned to see Brian swinging wildly in a bruising one-on-one fight with a blond-headed Saxon who could have been his twin in size. Another Saxon joined in the fight with Brian and the big Irishman found himself quickly being forced backward by his two assailants.
Cormac rushed over to help, but before he could, Cedric was once again there. He swung his sword heavily against one of the Saxons, and that unfortunate man fell dead with a gaping wound on his neck.
"Come on, you Celtic manure shoveler!" said Cedric to Brian. "Finish the man off and let's get on with the battle."
Brian paused, bewildered by the contradiction between Cedric's intervention and his insult. The lack of concentration almost lost him the fight, as the Saxon bore down on him. But at that moment, Cormac intervened. Picking up a spear that lay discarded on the ground, Cormac threw it with all his might at the Saxon. It pierced him in the upper thigh. The Saxon screamed and fell.
Brian turned to Cedric. "I'd be thanking ya to stay out of my fights!" he yelled. "My goodness! How can a man fight with all this interference?"
Cormac and Cedric looked at each other and shrugged. Then they all turned and ran back to where Aethelwulf was now fighting.
* * *
The battle went long and hard. The Mercian king had sent the right flank into battle shortly after Aethelwulf's men had attacked. These had performed a similar maneuver to what the men of Sussex had, but this time they ran around the side of the army of Wessex and had fallen heavily on its weak left flank. The Saxons were no cowards, though, and fought long and hard. Noon came and went and still there was no respite.
Soon warriors were collapsing, not because of wounds but due to exhaustion. The Mercians had held back one hundred men in reserve and as a guard around the king. The king realized that somehow the battle would have to be turned into victory from the stalemate it was now in. Keeping a chosen group of six warriors as bodyguards, he sent the rest into the battle.
It was a dangerous tactic, but this infusion of fresh troops into the Mercian ranks--even though small--gave them new vigor and turned the tide decisively in Mercia's favor.
At first in only a trickle, but then in increasingly larger numbers, the Saxons began fleeing the field. Soon all of them joined in the flight. After five hours of pitched battle, the Mercians had won the day, but at a heavy cost.
Athelstan, that bloodthirsty scion of Mercia, lay dead in the center of the field. Ludican, his brother, died with him. The king of Wessex was also dead, as were several of his sons. The king of Sussex had fled when the battle had turned hopelessly in favor of Mercia.
Aethelwulf, Cormac, Cedric and Brian walked back to the foot of the hill and sank to the ground, too exhausted to exult in the victory.
Cormac lay down for a long time staring at the blue sky. God, it's awful! he thought. There's no glory in war.
After a long time catching his breath, Brian propped himself up on one elbow and looked over at Cedric, who still lay there.
"And who would you be calling a manure shoveler back there?" said Brian.
"You, you obnoxious Celt," Cedric retorted, without doing Brian the honor of looking at him.
"The only manure I'm going to be shoveling is you--and that I'll be shoveling with my sword," bellowed Brian.
"You big tub of lard," growled back Cedric, "if it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't still be alive today."
"I'd be thanking ya to get back up on your feet and say that again, you ugly-faced heathen," said Brian, struggling to stand up.
"I think I might be doing you the favor," said Cedric as he stood up, sword in hand.
Cormac looked on horrified at what was happen- ing. "My God! Stop them, Aethelwulf."
Aethelwulf let out a laugh. "You two deserve to kill each other," he yelled. "Here we just won a victory and now you're fighting between yourselves."
"You heard what he called me," protested Cedric.
"You heard what he called me," asserted Brian.
"And I'd be calling you both idiots," said Aethelwulf. "Lucky for you I don't have the energy to get up, let alone keep you two blockheads from fighting. But for God's sake, stop it!"
"What's God got to do with it?" yelled Cedric.
"Aye, why are you bringing God into it?" growled Brian.
Aethelwulf groaned. "Enough! Stop it! I order it!"
Cedric reluctantly lowered his weapon, as did Brian.
"Oh, thank God," sighed Cormac in relief.
Aethelwulf presently struggled to his feet and made his way over to where the king of Mercia was surrounded by his surviving ealdormen and leading thanes.
"I'm glad you're alive," said the king, as Aethelwulf came over to greet him. "Your brothers Athelstan and Ludican are dead. That leaves only you and Bernwulf. The king sighed deeply. "We have the victory today, but at a bloody cost."
"Yes, Father," said Aethelwulf quietly.
"I see you're exhausted, man. Take your men away from this fearful place, and go back over the hill and make camp. Bernwulf is bearing the bodies of your brothers back to your mother.
We'll gather the rest of the dead and bury them in the morning."
Turning to one of his ealdormen, the king commanded, "See that the wounded are cared for as best as you can."
"Yes, my lord," said the man.
"Oh, and ride to the monastery at Malmesbury and ask the abbot to send monks to preside over the funerals. And as many as are skilled in the art of healing, send them to care for our wounded."
"Yes, my lord," said the man again.
With that, the king and his retinue trudged wearily back over the hill and set up camp for the evening. After he had eaten, he summoned Aethelwulf.
"So tell me what happened today, my son."
"We fell upon the Sussexmen and fought them until we won," answered Aethelwulf.
"And what peril came to you, my son?" the king further inquired.
"None, my lord," said Aethelwulf.
"I've been told that you were in danger, not only from the Sussexmen but also from our own."
"Yes, Father."
"What happened?"
"My brother Bernwulf sent someone to try to kill me, but Cedric was guarding my back and killed the would-be assassin before he could strike the blow."
"And you knew of this conspiracy beforehand?" inquired the father.
"I suspected it. That is why Cedric and I had been seen to quarrel and fall out, so that he would be recruited by those who hated me and brought into their confidence."
"I wondered why you and Cedric had come to bad terms," said the king. "It seemed like you two were inseparable before."
"It was a hard thing to do," explained Aethelwulf, "to treat one I loved with such scorn in public, and him me, but it paid off."
"Aethelwulf, you have shown yourself wise to foil such intrigue."
"Yes, Father."
"So will you bring this accusation against your brother?"
"No, for what good would it do?" said Aethelwulf. "It would only divide the kingdom between him and me."
"Indeed, that's what it would do," said the king. "Bernwulf is a bloody man, as his other brothers were, and now he's in line to become the king, upon my death. He will always be my heir as long as he lives."
"Yes, Father," said Aethelwulf.
"But if he dies, then you would become king upon my death," the king said with a tone of speculation.
"Yes, Father. Yet I cannot raise my hand against my brother."
"But he would against you," replied the king.
"That is his business," said Aethelwulf. "But I could never live with it."
The king nodded sadly, "Neither could I," said the king. "So continue to guard your back well, my son. And your brother, we'll have to leave in God's hands."
"Yes, Father."
"One thing more before you go back to your companions," said the king. "Those two Irishmen that you told me about, did you gain from them the knowledge of the Norse we need?"
"Yes, Father, I've learned all I can from them."
"Then they have served their purpose."
"Yes, Father, they have, and it's time for them to be going home."
The king nodded. "That is best, my son. To see you in league with those two will only give your enemies further with which to cast aspersions on you."
"Yes, Father," Aethelwulf nodded.
"But they served you well in battle?" asked the king.
"Yes, sire."
"Good! Now go, my son, for I have other business to attend to this night."