Fortress of Fury by Matthew Harffy

Author:Matthew Harffy [Harffy, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786696342
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 2020-08-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

“There can be no doubt now,” said Ethelwin, shielding his eyes with one wide hand. “You were right.”

Beobrand nodded. His eyes watered from the quickening breeze that blew from the north. They stood atop the ramparts near the gate and looked down at where Mercian warriors were dragging yet more timber up the slope. There was already a huge pile of broken beams, shattered fence posts, wattle walls and splintered shingles heaped against the gates.

Initially, they had been unsure what Penda had planned for all the dwellings he had ordered to be destroyed in the land around Bebbanburg, but as the Mercian warriors had begun to laden the remnants of the buildings into ox-drawn carts, goading the beasts towards the fortress, Beobrand had finally understood.

The night-time raid had been thwarted. The attackers had been slain on the ramparts and had failed in their attempt at opening the gates from within. But if they could not be opened through stealth in the darkest reaches of the night, Penda would need to find another way.

At first, the Bernician defenders had loosed arrows down at the approaching waggons, and in this way they had killed a handful of men and two oxen. The men looking on from the battlements had let out a huge cheer as each arrow had struck home, and yet the work had continued. The slain men and beasts were hauled away, and groups of warriors carried the timber in smaller quantities the final paces to the gates. Some of these Mercians held shields aloft to protect their comrades and, whilst every now and again a Bernician arrow would find its mark, the pile grew throughout the day.

Men hurled down rocks and even a few spears at the enemy warriors who were slowly, but with the constant determination of ants, building Bebbanburg’s funeral pyre.

It soon became clear that no matter how many missiles they cast down at the Mercians, the defenders were not going to stop the construction of the huge mound of wood at the gates of the fortress. That the very means for the destruction of what they had believed to be invulnerable should come from the homes, farms and new church they had abandoned, made the knowledge of Bebbanburg’s impending defeat all the more bitter.

“Do you think they will fire it tonight?” asked Ethelwin.

Beobrand looked towards the setting sun. The land hazed into the distance where the hills met the burnished bronze sky. It would be dusk soon. Down the slope there were still three more carts piled with the wooden bones of Bernician buildings.

“It will take them a long while yet to bring all of that up here,” he said. “I think they will wait for tomorrow. But we must be ready to fight tonight. Penda is never easy to predict.” Beobrand bit back the sour thought that the only thing he could foresee when it came to Penda was that the Mercian king usually won his battles. He scanned the horizon in all directions. There were only the merest wisps of cloud far away out over the deep blue of the sea.

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