CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE NIGHT BATTLE OF THE GREAT WOOD.
A gloomy disaster befell their army.
Thou slayest them with blades without much noise.
Thou powerful pillar of living light causest stillness
– ANEURIN.
ARTHUR in his day had dealt with more formidable enemies; but Ossa Cyllalaur foiled his stroke, so far that it brought no instant ruin. Awakening to the danger of his long thin line, the Saxon king hurried all whom he could to the front, which was then fighting Caradoc.
The night closed on them, growing in ma**, a multitude of hardy footmen, as they picked up one body after another by the way. No stragglers, for such could find no safety. The first of the breathless ma** were clasping hands with those who confronted the Prince of Devon, when the British Emperor came down on them from the height near their rear, striking crosswise, but with a great body of enemies before him, where he had looked to find them yet loosely strung.
Ossa Cyllalaur was there, too, guessing the danger place, and with him the best of the Saxon spears, [Page 272] quickly bristling before the rush of the British horse, like an ill-formed bayonet square of later days. In splintering charge after charge, Arthur broke into them, once cutting through from side to side, and back again. Thus all their moving line was a**ailed with brief pauses; and Arthur's infantry, coming up, joined likewise. Therefore there were many kinds of desperate fighting, over much space, through many impediments, in such darkness that a man might hardly know friend from enemy.
Still the Saxon army grew mainly toward the head; and there the worst rush of all came on Caradoc, swarming up against and around his breastwork, and over it in places for all that he could do. The utmost aid that Arthur could send was too little, making only for a time an islet of fighting-men among numerous and desperate a**ailants.
Then a great and welcome shout was heard in the night beyond, and when it rose a second time every hard-pressed Briton well knew it for the mountain cry of Lancelot. The sound of battle had reached his men, awakening their eager gladness. The Saxons heard that shout also, and paused for one heartbeat; then fell to more savagely, as knowing their time was brief. Even the champion of the brawny arm was driven hither and thither, reeling while he smote, – his men meanwhile dropping continually all around, – before the onfall of Caowl from one side [Page 273] and Lancelot from the other broke through to him with salvation.
Then the fight here went on confusedly for a time; but the sudden strengthening of the Britons prevailed, and the current turned, setting slantwise; for the Saxons were driven, resisting doggedly, through the westward opening, where was now only Dynan, with a small force, to stay them. These gave way, and the Saxons all drew together on high ground in a strong place; where they fought so sturdily that Arthur, having torn what he could from them as they went, found it wise to form a circle round them, and await the day.
This showed the great havoc of that night, and that it had visited most heavily the Saxons. Caradoc, strongly posted, had given good account of them, even while brought near to destruction; and their flank and rear had been handled mercilessly. Therefore many corpses were in all the undergrowth.
Nevertheless, a great body of Saxons remained, holding well together on a table of open land above the meeting of two streams. Rocks were plentiful here; and many stones had been heaped between them in a rude encircling wall that still grew, the banner of Ossa Cyllalaur being in the centre. There seemed a spring near it, and a few pack animals were standing around. Also there were fires, and [Page 274] men breakfasting, and glittering arms in great plenty.
"A good fort," said Lancelot. "But I do not see that they are making headway into Britain. They are less now than we. And I should suppose, in time, they would grow hungry."
He sat, mounted, with the Emperor and other chiefs, on a second eminence. Looking abroad over their own cordon, Arthur smiled.
"They are indeed delivered over to us," he said. "This time let us make sure work. Cut down trees everywhere, that the wall of oak may surround the wall of stone, Famine will drive them to us."
It was done very swiftly, for battle-axes and other fit tools were abundant. On every side the strokes and heavy crashing echoed through the wilderness.
Hearing such ominous uproar, the busy Saxons were seen to pause with an air of uncertain menace. But their night-slaughter was too recent for any venture. So they turned to their labor again with a cry of derision, and those who had been eating joined them; whereby their wall grew apace, taking the light sparklingly on many crystalline facets. Thus until noon continued the two armies of wall-builders. Then, with shifting of workmen, the Britons kept on still; but the Saxons flauntingly sat down to food [Page 275] and mead, – all they had, – devouring and quaffing, so that this their last meal on earth was in truth a lavish banquet.
Arthur, on the neighboring hill, faring less sumptuously, watched them in silence, his chiefs around him. Their blood, like his own, had cooled in the hours of rest and toil. Looking from eye to eye, he found them faintly astir with fellow-feeling for these roisterers, who showed a temper so like their own. At that he smiled.
"Let us give them another chance," he said; then called for a tablet, and wrote a courteous summons to surrender: "For where you could not pa** in the night when all was open," he said, "you surely cannot pa** over walls in the day. Nor would it be easier to return, unless by giving us ample pledges and hostages; whereon you may go and welcome. It were best for all if there might henceforth be amity between us."
He sent this by the chief man among the wounded prisoners; and ten more of those who could walk went with this messenger. No Saxon, unhurt, had been taken arms in hand; but Arthur had caused search to be made for all who lay around, and gentlest care to be given them. This also the men who bore his letter could tell Ossa Cyllalaur, and those who stood with him, for the easing of any doubts and fears.
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Both armies watched the little procession pa** haltingly from wall to wall, across the belt of open land. Ossa welcomed them, and took their missive, calling one who had the sk** to read it. Then there was a stir and hum of admiration, followed by some debate. In the end one of the prisoners came back with the word. "Ossa Cyllalaur, King of Bernicia, Overlord of Deira, bids me say for him that he accepts nothing from an enemy; that a mishap in the dark may be repaired when men can see; that Saxons have little need of food of their own when there are so many Britons with food around them. With thanks to Arthur, who is a wise, brave, and great-hearted soldier, expect Ossa very speedily; for the wolf grows weary of his den."
For now one of Constantine's pack-trains came into plainer sight between the bare trees; and almost before that answer was rendered, the Saxon fighting-men were swarming over their wall on every side at once. Everywhere, too, it was in such fierce fashion that feint could not at first be told from onslaught by any one. But opposite the train a great body, converging in a wedge, made a desperate and long-continued endeavor, wherein most of the others joined them; the foremost hacking at the sharpened branches, or even wrenching their way upward far enough to be speared or cloven, for there was not one who got quite over the wall. Arrows, [Page 277] darts, and stones came grievously among them; and though they did not give way after a single trial and failure, they could render slight return, and in the end went back again very loweringly. There was quick pursuit, and fighting the open ground on even terms; but this venture ended without the Saxons having won anything. Again their loss in men was the heavier.
At sunset, after one or two pa**ing alarums, there was a great irruption of them toward the point made by the meeting of the waters, suddenly swollen by rain in the upper hills or by melting snow. Here the tree-barrier had made a dam, leaving waterway under it for no more than the common flow. With the sudden rise, the pressure on it grew; and though more trees were felled and braces set, the flood and the enemy came tugging at it together. Presently Ossa Cyllalaur was through, between tumbling and swimming, with two hundred and more of his men. Their blades made havoc for a moment, then sought the depths of the wood, while no others followed. Caradoc, posted near, had hurried, with the men of Devon, crosswise to shield the gap; and though the emptying water still rushed plentifully by, these took care that there should not be any Saxons in it. As the Britons gathered momently, the ma** of a**ailants, leaderless and undecided, went slowly back to their rock-wall again. Meantime Llywarch and a [Page 278] party of horse, overrunning and pa**ing those who had escaped, made search for them in the forest twilight, which was nearly night already, at random, but heading mainly toward Argoed.
Thus the second day of fighting ended.