I was behind the line, mounted on Snawgebland. Egil and Sihtric were also on horseback, and both had kept a dozen men well back from the shield wall to serve as reinforcements. I had Finan with twenty men behind. Those were perilously small numbers to throw into a broken shield wall, but all of Æthelstan’s army was stretched thin. I also had two dozen archers with their hunting bows. I was reluctant to deploy more. The arrows would force the enemy to lower their heads and raise their shields, but in a clash of shield walls it was the blades in men’s hands that did the killing.
Æthelstan himself was riding along the front of the line, accompanied by Bishop Oda and six mounted warriors. Æthelstan looked glorious. His horse was caparisoned with a scarlet saddle cloth, his spurs were gold, his horse’s bridle was trimmed with gold, and his helmet was ringed with a golden crown. He wore a scarlet cloak over shining mail, had a gold cross on his breast, while his sword scabbard was all gold, a gift that had been given to his father by Alfred. He was talking to his troops, and I remembered his grandfather doing the same at Ethandun. Alfred had seemed more nervous of making that speech than he was of the battle itself and I could still see him, a slender man in a worn blue cloak, talking in a high-pitched voice and slowly finding the right words. Æthelstan had more confidence, the words came easily to him, and I rode to join him as he came to our troops. I steered Snawgebland carefully to avoid the scatter of holes, then bowed my head to the king. ‘Lord King,’ I said, ‘welcome.’
He smiled. ‘I see you’re wearing a cross, Lord Uhtred,’ he said loudly, nodding towards Benedetta’s gold ornament, ‘and that pagan bauble too?’
‘This bauble, lord King,’ I said just as loudly, ‘has seen me through more battles than I can count. And we won them all.’
My men cheered that and Æthelstan let them cheer, then told them they fought for their homes, for their wives, for their children. ‘Above all,’ he finished, ‘we fight for peace! We fight to drive Anlaf and his followers away from our land, to teach the Scots that to trespass on our land is to gain nothing but graves.’ I noted how he did not appeal to the Christians, but was aware that here, on his right wing, he had Norsemen and Danes fighting for him. ‘Say your prayers,’ he said, ‘and fight as you know how to fight, and your god will keep you, he will preserve you, and he will reward you. As will I.’
They cheered him, and Æthelstan gave me a quizzical look as if asking how he had done. I smiled. ‘Thank you, lord King,’ I said.
He led me a few paces away from my men. ‘Your Norsemen will stay true?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘That worries you?’
‘It worries some of my men. Yes, it worries me.’
‘They will stay true, lord King,’ I said, ‘and if I’m wrong then Bebbanburg is yours.’
‘If you’re wrong,’ he said, ‘then we’re all dead.’
‘They will stay true. I swear it.’
He glanced down at my chest. ‘The cross?’
‘Woman’s sorcery, lord. It belongs to Benedetta.’
‘Then I pray the sorcery protects you. All of us. Steapa is ready, so all we must do is hold the enemy firm.’
‘And win, lord King.’
‘That too,’ he said, ‘that too,’ then turned to ride back along the line.
And just then the enemy came.
We heard them first.
There was a dull hammer blow that seemed to shudder across the heath. It was the sound of a drum, a huge war drum, and it was beaten three times and the third stroke was the signal for the enemy to start clashing blades on shields. They shouted, and all the time that great drum beat like the heart of a monstrous unseen beast. Most of my men had been sitting, but now they stood, brought their shields up and stared at where the road vanished over the low crest.
The noise was massive, yet still the enemy was hidden. The first we saw of them was their standards appearing above the crest, a long line of flags showing eagles, falcons, wolves, axes, ravens, swords, and crosses. ‘We have the Scots,’ Finan said to me. Their blue flags were on the enemy’s left and meant that Constantine’s men would assault my shield wall. Anlaf’s soaring falcon was on the enemy’s right and confirmed what we had expected, that his main assault would be against our left.
‘Fate has been good to us!’ I called to my men. ‘It’s sent us the Scots! How many times have we beaten them? And they’ll see we’re the wolves of Bebbanburg and they’ll be scared!’
We talk nonsense before battles, necessary nonsense. We tell our men what they want to hear, but the gods decide what will happen.
‘Fewer archers, perhaps?’ Finan muttered. The Scots did use archers, but not many. I looked up at the sky and saw that the clouds were thickening to the west. Perhaps it would rain again? A downpour would weaken the threat
