Death of Kings_ A Novel - Bernard Cornwell [123]
‘Can those trees hide us?’ I asked Finan, nodding towards some thick woodland to the south.
‘You could hide a thousand men in there,’ he said.
‘We’ll wait in the trees,’ I said. ‘You’re going to lead all our men,’ I told him, meaning the men sworn to me, ‘and attack the bastards. Then you lead them back towards the rest of us.’
It was a simple ambush, so simple I did not really believe it could work, but this was still the war that passed understanding. First, it was happening three years too late and now, after attempting to lure me to Ceaster, the Danes seemed to have forgotten all about me. ‘They have too many leaders,’ Æthelflaed suggested as we walked our horses south along the Roman road that led from the bridge, ‘and they’re all men, so not one of them will give in. They’re arguing among themselves.’
‘Let’s hope they go on arguing,’ I said. Once among the trees we spread out. Æthelflaed’s men were on the right, and I sent Osferth to keep her safe. Steapa’s men went to the left, while I stayed in the centre. I dismounted, giving my horse’s reins to Oswi, and walked with Finan to the wood’s southern edge. Our arrival in the trees had sent pigeons clattering through the branches, but no Danes took any notice. The nearest were some two or three hundred paces away, close to a mixed herd of sheep and goats. Beyond them was a steading, still unburned, and I could see a crowd of people there.
‘Captives,’ Finan said, ‘women and children.’
There were Danes there too, their presence betrayed by a large herd of saddled horses in a hedged paddock. It was hard to tell how many horses, but it was at least a hundred. The steading was a small hall beside a pair of newly thatched barns, their roofs bright in the sun. There were more Danes beyond the hall, out in fields, where I assumed they were collecting livestock. ‘I’d suggest riding for the hall,’ I said, ‘kill as many as you can, bring me a captive and take their horses.’
‘About time we had a fight,’ Finan said wolfishly.
‘Lead them onto us,’ I said, ‘and we’ll kill every last mother’s son.’ He turned to go, but I put a hand on his mailed arm. I was still staring south. ‘It isn’t a trap, is it?’
Finan gazed south. ‘They reached this far without a fight,’ he said, ‘and they think no one dares face them.’
I felt a moment’s frustration. If I had Mercia’s army at Cracgelad, and Edward could bring the men of Wessex from the south, we could have crushed this careless army, but so far as I knew we were the only Saxon troops anywhere near the Danes. ‘I want to keep them here,’ I said.
‘Keep them here?’ Finan asked.
‘Near the bridge, so King Edward can bring men to crush them.’ We had more than enough men to hold the bridge against as many attacks as the Danes could make. We did not even need Æthelred’s Mercians to make this trap work. This, then, was the battleground I wanted. ‘Sihtric!’
The choice of this place as the ground to destroy the Danes was so obvious, so tempting and so advantageous that I did not want to wait before Edward knew of my certainty. ‘I’m sorry you’ll miss the fight,’ I told Sihtric, ‘but this is urgent.’ I was sending him with three other men to ride westwards and then south. They were to follow my first messengers and tell the king where the Danes were, and how they could be beaten. ‘Tell him the enemy is just waiting to be killed. Tell him this can be his first great victory, tell him the poets will sing of it for generations, and above all tell him to hurry!’ I waited until Sihtric was gone, then looked back to the enemy. ‘Bring me as many horses as you can,’ I told Finan.
Finan led my men southwards, keeping to some woods east of the road, while I brought up all the remaining horsemen. I rode along our line, ducking under the low branches, and told men