Death of Kings_ A Novel - Bernard Cornwell [134]
On the fourth day I realised where we were. We had been following the remnants of a Roman road that ran straight as a spear across the low land, and I scouted westwards and found the bridge at Eanulfsbirig. It had been repaired with great lengths of rough-cut timber laid across the fire-blackened stonework of the Roman piers. I was on the Use’s western bank, where Sigurd had challenged me, and the road from the bridge ran towards Huntandon. I remembered Ludda telling me there was higher ground on the far side of the river there, and that was where Eohric’s men had planned to ambush me and it seemed likely that Eohric would have the same thought now and so I sent Finan and fifty men to scout that farther bridge. They returned in the middle of the afternoon. ‘Hundreds of Danes,’ Finan said laconically, ‘a fleet of ships. They’re waiting for us.’
‘Hundreds?’
‘Can’t cross the river to count them properly,’ he said, ‘not without getting killed, but I saw a hundred and forty-three ships.’
‘So thousands of Danes,’ I said.
‘Just waiting for us, lord.’
I found Edward in a convent to the south. Ealdorman Æthelhelm and Ealdorman Sigelf were with him, as were Bishop Erkenwald and Father Coenwulf, and I interrupted their supper to give them the news. It was a cold night, and a wet wind was rattling the shutters of the convent’s hall.
‘They want battle?’ Edward asked.
‘What they want, lord,’ I said, ‘is for us to be stupid enough to offer them battle.’
He looked puzzled at that. ‘But if we’ve found them,’ he began.
‘We must destroy them,’ Bishop Erkenwald declared.
‘They’re on the far side of a river we cannot cross,’ I explained, ‘except by the bridge that they are defending. They will slaughter us one by one until we withdraw, and then they’ll follow us like wolves behind a flock. That’s what they want, lord King. They’ve chosen the battlefield and we’re fools to accept their choice.’
‘Lord Uhtred is right,’ Ealdorman Sigelf snapped. I was so surprised that I said nothing.
‘He is,’ Æthelhelm agreed.
Edward plainly wanted to ask what we should do, but he knew the question would make him look weak. I could see him working out the alternatives and was pleased that he chose the right one. ‘The bridge you spoke of,’ he said, ‘Eanulfsbirig?’
‘Yes, lord King.’
‘We can cross it?’
‘Yes, lord King.’
‘So if we cross it we can destroy it?’
‘I would cross it, lord King,’ I said, ‘and march on Bedanford. Invite the Danes to attack us there. That way we choose the battlefield, not them.’
‘That makes sense,’ Edward said hesitantly, looking towards Bishop Erkenwald and Father Coenwulf for support. They both nodded. ‘Then that’s what we’ll do,’ Edward said more confidently.
‘I ask a favour of you, lord King,’ Sigelf said, sounding unnaturally humble.
‘Whatever you wish,’ Edward said graciously.
‘Allow my men to be the rearguard, lord King? If the Danes attack, let my shields take their assault and let the men of Cent defend the army.’
Edward looked surprised and pleased at the request. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘and thank you, Lord Sigelf.’
And so the orders were sent to all the scattered troops, summoning them to the bridge at Eanulfsbirig. They were to march at first light, and at the same time Sigelf’s Centishmen would advance up the road to confront the Danes just south of Huntandon. We were doing exactly what the Danes had done. We had invaded, destroyed, and now we would withdraw, only we withdrew in chaos.
The dawn brought a bitter cold. Hoar frost touched the fields and the ditches had a skin of ice. I remember that day so well because half the sky was a bright, glittering blue and the other half, all to the east, was grey clouds. It was as though the gods had half dragged a blanket across the world, dividing the sky, and the edge of the clouds was as straight as a blade. That edge was silvered by the