women and
children in a wide arc, trying to avoid the horror of that scene, yet when I
glanced behind I could tell from the pale faces that some at least had seen it.
Oddly though, most of the women seemed undisturbed by what they could see and I
caught the fierce look in Aidith’s eyes, which seemed to say the dead raiders
were getting only what they deserved. Then, when I recalled the previous day
and the terrors that Cybilla and Aidith had suffered, I thought that maybe she
was right. Leaving the corpses to the scavengers, I halted outside the village
and sent Cuthbert ahead to scout it out. He returned after a moment and waved
at me, so we walked on through the gap in the west fence.
As we entered, the villagers
emerged from the hiding places they had run to when they first spotted us
approaching. There was a moment’s pause as we looked at each other, then a cry
of relief from Eduard’s young brother, Tomas, who was only five and now,
oblivious to everyone else, he hurtled over and flung himself at my friend.
Eduard winced in pain, but gave a huge roar and he dragged Tomas off the ground
and spun him round. Suddenly, this released the tension and we rushed over to
greet each other, embracing loved ones and sobbing with relief. Cybilla moved
past me to hug her sister, Audrey, and then held her at arm’s length, examining
an ugly gash on her cheek. Aidith and her mother were on their knees, holding
hands, both talking at the same time. I watched as, for a short while, our spirits
lifted as families were reunited. Then, one by one, we would search the faces
for others we knew: others we loved and as it became obvious how many had died
and how many were missing − the tears started.
Eduard’s father and his older
brother were both dead. He stood now in a huddle with his mother and little
brother, looking down at their bodies, laid out alongside the others behind
their hut, awaiting burial. It was the first time I could recall him ever
crying, but he was not alone. A half dozen men and young boys − those too
young to quite yet be in the Fyrd, but who had picked up weapons and fought the
raiders nonetheless − had been slain. As many other women and children
had been dragged off as captives − away to the Welsh lands to farm their
fields or lie in their beds. These were the terrified faces I had seen in the
dark last night; the ones I had been unable to save.
Was this war, I thought? Was this
the glory and the joy of battle that Lilla spoke of? All it seemed to be was
tears and death. I had longed for war to come and now I wished it never had.
Some hero I was, I thought: away hunting boars and playing at being a warrior
whilst here, our people had died and I had done nothing to prevent it. Then, I
felt a hand on my shoulder and turning round, I saw Cybilla and Audrey.
“Master Cerdic, I want to thank
you for fighting bravely and for bringing my sister back to me,” Audrey said.
Behind her the villagers were gathered and despite their sorrow, they
surrounded Eduard, Cuthbert and me and thanked us for rescuing their folk and
protecting them. Eduard wiped away his tears, then smiled and nodded: how so
easily he accepted the fate that the gods had brought him. Cuthbert looked shy,
but I could tell that he was touched. As for myself, I felt sick. I knew I did
not deserve the praise and yet I nodded. In the end I realised that they needed
to do this for us and that they in turn expected something from me. As frantic
as I was to get away and see how my own family had fared, I forced myself to
make a little speech.
“We thank you all and I want to
say that I know how you feel, your loss is my loss. We will find those that are
missing and we will make those that did this pay.”
There was silence as the
villagers looked at me with an odd respect. Audrey’s eyes filled with tears
again, but there was something about her reaction that seemed strange. She had
not lost anyone − now that Cybilla had returned − so why
children in a wide arc, trying to avoid the horror of that scene, yet when I
glanced behind I could tell from the pale faces that some at least had seen it.
Oddly though, most of the women seemed undisturbed by what they could see and I
caught the fierce look in Aidith’s eyes, which seemed to say the dead raiders
were getting only what they deserved. Then, when I recalled the previous day
and the terrors that Cybilla and Aidith had suffered, I thought that maybe she
was right. Leaving the corpses to the scavengers, I halted outside the village
and sent Cuthbert ahead to scout it out. He returned after a moment and waved
at me, so we walked on through the gap in the west fence.
As we entered, the villagers
emerged from the hiding places they had run to when they first spotted us
approaching. There was a moment’s pause as we looked at each other, then a cry
of relief from Eduard’s young brother, Tomas, who was only five and now,
oblivious to everyone else, he hurtled over and flung himself at my friend.
Eduard winced in pain, but gave a huge roar and he dragged Tomas off the ground
and spun him round. Suddenly, this released the tension and we rushed over to
greet each other, embracing loved ones and sobbing with relief. Cybilla moved
past me to hug her sister, Audrey, and then held her at arm’s length, examining
an ugly gash on her cheek. Aidith and her mother were on their knees, holding
hands, both talking at the same time. I watched as, for a short while, our spirits
lifted as families were reunited. Then, one by one, we would search the faces
for others we knew: others we loved and as it became obvious how many had died
and how many were missing − the tears started.
Eduard’s father and his older
brother were both dead. He stood now in a huddle with his mother and little
brother, looking down at their bodies, laid out alongside the others behind
their hut, awaiting burial. It was the first time I could recall him ever
crying, but he was not alone. A half dozen men and young boys − those too
young to quite yet be in the Fyrd, but who had picked up weapons and fought the
raiders nonetheless − had been slain. As many other women and children
had been dragged off as captives − away to the Welsh lands to farm their
fields or lie in their beds. These were the terrified faces I had seen in the
dark last night; the ones I had been unable to save.
Was this war, I thought? Was this
the glory and the joy of battle that Lilla spoke of? All it seemed to be was
tears and death. I had longed for war to come and now I wished it never had.
Some hero I was, I thought: away hunting boars and playing at being a warrior
whilst here, our people had died and I had done nothing to prevent it. Then, I
felt a hand on my shoulder and turning round, I saw Cybilla and Audrey.
“Master Cerdic, I want to thank
you for fighting bravely and for bringing my sister back to me,” Audrey said.
Behind her the villagers were gathered and despite their sorrow, they
surrounded Eduard, Cuthbert and me and thanked us for rescuing their folk and
protecting them. Eduard wiped away his tears, then smiled and nodded: how so
easily he accepted the fate that the gods had brought him. Cuthbert looked shy,
but I could tell that he was touched. As for myself, I felt sick. I knew I did
not deserve the praise and yet I nodded. In the end I realised that they needed
to do this for us and that they in turn expected something from me. As frantic
as I was to get away and see how my own family had fared, I forced myself to
make a little speech.
“We thank you all and I want to
say that I know how you feel, your loss is my loss. We will find those that are
missing and we will make those that did this pay.”
There was silence as the
villagers looked at me with an odd respect. Audrey’s eyes filled with tears
again, but there was something about her reaction that seemed strange. She had
not lost anyone − now that Cybilla had returned − so why
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