THE HEATHEN HORDE by Steven A McKay

Author:Steven A McKay
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Canelo
Published: 2023-10-25T23:00:00+00:00

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Bishop Edwin came out of the tent and watched King Aethelred lead his army in a charge up the slope to join the battle. Alfred’s priest, Oswald, joined him and they stood in silence, praying that God would be on the side of the West Saxons.

There were other non-combatants around them, priests as well as the ceorls and servants – young and old men – who helped carry the fyrd’s equipment, cook meals, repair gear, take messages, and a multitude of other logistical tasks. Some were busy, perhaps fearing to look up at the fighting, knowing their lot would be a bad one should the Danes win. Others stood like the clergymen, watching as events unfolded.

‘It doesn’t seem to be going well,’ the bishop noted, alarm in his otherwise rich voice.

‘No wonder, my lord,’ Oswald replied testily. ‘Prince Alfred has been engaging the enemy on his own while you gave Mass for the king! What took so long?’

Edwin frowned at him but the priest’s words, although harsh, were clearly justified. It didn’t take a military genius to see that. ‘The king felt he didn’t praise God enough before the battle at Reading,’ came the reply. ‘He insisted we do things properly today. “I will not forsake divine service for that of men”, were his words to me.’

‘Well, let’s hope he didn’t leave it too late. Alfred’s soldiers have fought well, but their flank was just about to collapse. Even from here I can see that devil, Bagsecg, scything down our troops as if they were but ripe wheat.’

Bishop Edwin made the sign of the cross and they fell silent, breath steaming in the frigid air but neither noticing how cold they were.

Eventually, Oswald, squinting as he tried to make out what was happening, murmured, ‘I don’t think the Danes have realised Aethelred’s army are charging towards them.’

‘God, let that be the case,’ Edwin breathed, and his tone betrayed his disbelief. How could Halfdan and his captains fail to notice hundreds of men coming towards them?

‘They’re not making any noise,’ Oswald finally noticed. ‘The king’s men, I mean. No war cries. No screamed threats, like warriors running into battle usually make. They’re completely silent. Was this planned all along?’ he wondered, glancing at the bishop who made no reply. ‘A clever trap, like the one the Danes sprang on us at Reading?’

Oswald had been around the West Saxon commanders throughout the past few days but he’d heard no talk of anything like this. It was possible the king had discussed it with his brother and, to be fair, the whole thing did seem to have caught the enemy unawares yet… The priest stared up the hill, trying to pick out Alfred amongst the seething mass of men. It had not looked like some grand plan when the Danes were obliterating the left flank of the West Saxon army, and Oswald had noticed Alfred and Wulfric staring down at Aethelred’s tent. True, they had been mere stick figures, dots in the distance, but they’d obviously been looking for the king.

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