The Amber Treasure: A Saga of Battle and Betrayal in Dark Ages Britain (Northern Crown Book 1) by Richard Denning

Author:Richard Denning [Denning, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Historical, Military, War, Historical Fiction
Amazon: B004H4XG10
Publisher: Mercia Books
Published: 2010-12-22T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The Army

I watched helplessly as the galloping horses pounded across the ground towards Eduard. He finally heard them coming and turned to see death closing in on him, mounted on iron-shod hooves. Desperately he dragged two men round and together they levelled their spears to try to deflect or impale the horses.

It would not have been anywhere near enough to stop the charge and the armoured cavalry would have cut down our men like a scythe in a field of barley. Ironically, it was the Welsh themselves who saved my friends. What I had feared earlier − that more Welsh would emerge through the eastern passageways and surround us − now happened. A dozen Elmetae warriors had been pulled away from those following up Eduard and Grettir and had run down the adjacent passage. Emerging on the open ground, they swung round to cut off our men. In so doing, they saved Eduard and his companions’ lives.

For now, as the cavalry charged forward they saw with alarm that their countrymen were suddenly running in front of them and in desperation, they heaved on the reins and turned away, aborting their attack. They then circled off to the west to regroup. I knew that this was our only chance to get away and I took it.

“Aedann, a score of you come with me. Charge!” I ordered and off we went, crashing into the rear of the newly arrived Elmetae, who were surging around Eduard’s beleaguered band. Our attack took them by surprise and we cut down half a dozen before they reacted. The momentum took us right through them to join up with Eduard.

Now united, our desperation giving us the strength of madmen, we slew the Welsh surrounding us.

“Right, that’s it. Pull back!” I shouted and as a tightly huddled mass of thirty or so warriors, we retreated towards the gate. Shields overlapped shields; spears projected in all directions. The Welsh pouring out of the passageway harried us all the way, but they had suffered many losses and once we joined the others at the gateway, we had over eighty warriors and thirty townsfolk and were far too strong for them. Even so, I did not feel we were strong enough to force our way back through the fort to the east gate, for although we now outnumbered our foe, there was also an unknown quantity of horsemen to worry about. Had the Welsh been even a little more organised, they might have stopped us in our tracks, but their attack was not coordinated.

Outside the gatehouse the track led northwards. I had hoped to pass round the outside of the fort and reach the eastern road home to Deira, but I saw now that this was impossible. The ground dropped away steeply towards the river and at the bottom of the slope it was marshy and boggy. Half a dozen men might make it, but well over one hundred, including injured men and townsfolk, would not.

So, I turned my gaze

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