Ned, the son of Webb: What he did.

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE GREAT FULFORD FIGHT.

  The battle was at hand, and all the men knew that they were marchinginto it.

  "I'm in!" shouted Ned, the son of Webb. "But I haven't any horn toblow. Hear 'em! They are all going wild! Fighting is what they livefor, and they're not good for much of anything else, to speak of."

  No generalship whatever was exercised in the selection of thebattle-field. The lay of the land, as Ned remarked of it, had providedall that beforehand, and it gave no especial advantage to either army.Nearly midway between the river Ouse, on the left of the Vikings, andthe river Derwent, on their right, was the moderately elevated level ofland along which they were marching. The banks of the rivers on eitherside of them were swampy.

  It would have seemed good military policy for the English earlsto abide behind the strong walls of York, after having missed theopportunity to meet their enemies at the landing. They may, however,have been aware that a large part of Hardrada's forces had landedbelow the mouth of the Derwent, and was still on the wrong side ofthat river. This, perhaps, induced them to strike a blow at the nearerdivision before it should be reinforced.

  "Here we are!" shouted Ned, as he rode out from a patch of wood. "Seehow our lines are forming, all the way across, between the swamps. Lookyonder! Standards and clouds of dust! The English are coming! A host ofthem!"

  "The king hath ordered us to halt, and let them charge," replied Lars."This is my first battle! Hurrah!"

  "Hail to thee, O my son! Glad am I to find thee," called out a loudvoice from a column of spearmen, catching up with them. "Come thou andjoin thy father's men. Thou shalt fight at my side this day. Let Ned,the son of Webb, ride on and be with Tostig the Earl, as is his duty."

  "All right!" shouted Ned. "Go ahead, Lars!"

  "God keep you all this day!" earnestly responded Father Brian. "I willkeep the boy out of harm's way, if I can. By the side of Earl Tostig inthis fight will be a place for strong men."

  Leif, the son of Beo, wheeled away with Lars, and Ned shouted afterthem:

  "Oh, Vebba! I am coming to join thee and Lars as soon as we have takenYork."

  "Maybe thou wilt and maybe thou wilt not," growled Father Brian. "Agood many Vikings are to be killed before sunset. Look how the Saxonscome on! I am willing to keep well away from their axes."

  So was Ned himself, and, being on horseback, on pretty high ground, hewas able to get a fair view of all that was going on.

  Except for arrows and javelins, all the fighting would be hand to hand,so that personal skill and strength would count for all they wereworth, while the small and weak were pretty sure to go down.

  "There is the banner of King Hardrada," said Ned, "away at the left,toward the Ouse River. I guess Tostig is with him, and I won't go inthat direction. Father Brian and I can see more if we stay in themiddle. Whoop! Here comes the crash! It's awful!"

  It was the tremendous onset of the English. It struck the Norwegianline first at the right, and all opposition seemed to be crushedbefore it. There could be no question of the courage or prowess of theNorthumberland warriors, and their earls were leading them well.

  "All the saints!" exclaimed Father Brian. "Are we to be beaten at once?Then I am thankful that thou and I will have a chance to ride away, forthe English will spare no man."

  "Wait a bit," replied Ned. "The king and the earl are charging in.All their best men are with them. See the rush of Hardrada, with histwo-handed sword. He is like a man a-mowing! He is a giant!"

  He had a sudden advantage given him, too, for the English followed therouted Vikings on the right, so that their own flank was exposed. Theywere necessarily in some disorder when the rush of the king's veteransstruck them. Even numbers were at this point much in favour of theinvaders, and there was soon a change in the aspect of the battle.Hard, terrible, desperate, was that long struggle of life and death.The slaughter thinned the ranks on both sides fearfully.

  More and more intense became the interest of Ned, the son of Webb,and his companion. Almost unconsciously they pushed forward to get anearer view of the combat. The contending forces were in many places somingled that it was hardly possible to distinguish one party from theother. The din was dreadful.

  "Hullo!" suddenly exclaimed Ned. "I declare! Father Brian's horse hasrun away with him. I hope he won't be killed."

  His own animal also grew restive, and the next minute he was chargingforward as if to take his share in the battle.

  "I can't hold him in!" groaned Ned, tugging at his rein. "He is worsethan Nanny herself. There, though! The English are breaking everywhere.It's going to be a first-class victory for us. Oh, dear! This fellow istaking me right along to the very front!"

  There was peril, indeed, in that. There was no telling how far or intowhat the now frantic beast might gallop on.

  Bound after bound, neighing loudly with fear, he dashed forward intothe very thickest of the awful carnage, while his rider stared wildlyaround him upon the slayers and the slain.

  "Oh!" yelled Ned. "That spear struck him! I must get off! He isfalling!"

  One of the hundreds of flying javelins had smitten his horse in thechest, burying its long, sharp blade almost a foot deep. Down sank thedying victim, snorting, screaming, and Ned sprang off only just in timeto escape from being rolled under him.

  "I did it all the better," he remarked, "for having no saddle orstirrups."

  Out came his sword, but before he could do anything with it the rushof the battle swept on beyond him. The English were now retreating indisorder, but the greater part of them were fighting as they went.Many of them, it was afterward said, were driven into the swamps andinto the rivers, but the stories told were probably exaggerated. Atall events, thousands of them were slain, and the defeat of Edwin andMorcar was decisive.

  Ned was on foot, now, and he had marched forward, for he did not seethat he was in any danger.

  "They won't hold up till they get to York," he was saying. "Just seethis!"

  He was standing at a spot where the flying English had made adespairing rally, and all around him were scattered scores of slain ordisabled warriors. At his very feet was a sort of half circle of them,and he was staring at their shattered armour when a loud cry arose froma mailed form which had lain at full length upon the bloody grass.

  "One more!" it shouted. "I will strike one more good blow against theoutlanders! Out! Out! Holy cross! Down with thee, O wolf of Norway!"

  Ned, the son of Webb, had barely time to lift his shield before hisenemy was upon him. He was nearly taken by surprise.

  "Glad my sword was out," he said, "but what's the use of hacking atsuch an iron rig as his is? I can't hurt him. My suit is a good one,too. Let him chop away."

  It was on his mind that more of the dead or wounded Saxons might get upand come at him, however, and he felt that he was in the worst kind ofscrape. What would have been the result if his opponent had been freshand unwounded was easy to calculate, for he was a large, strong man.As it was, Ned's greater agility and skill were enabling him to makea particularly good fighting appearance when something large and darkcame springing to his side.

  "Down!" roared a terrible voice, and a flash of steel fell cleavinglyupon the helmet of the big Saxon. He dropped as if struck bylightning, and then Ned found himself looking up with astonishment intothe fierce face of Tostig the Earl.

  "Art thou here?" he exclaimed. "Verily, thou hast done well, but thouart no match for such as he. He was one of the strongest knaves thatrebelled against me. O son of Webb, I will remember thee well for this!"

  Ned hardly knew what to say in reply, and the earl's face grewthoughtful.

  "Thou art of York," he said. "I bid thee take thy first opportunity toget inside of the walls. Learn all thou mayest, and be ready to answerwhen I question thee. I would know what is said in the city."

  "I will get in as soon as I can," said Ned, "but just how, I don'tknow."

  Away spurred the earl, and Ned looked after him, remarki
ng:

  "He is a tremendous fellow! I guess he saved my life, and I kind o'like him. I wonder, though, if he thinks that I killed all of theseDanes and Angles and Saxons that are lying around here. If he does, Imust explain it to him some day. I wouldn't care to have it look as ifI told him so."

  It was too late for any explanations at the present time, and he wasruefully considering what it might be best for him to try next, when acheerful but somewhat anxious voice came to him from a little distance.

  "Ned, my boy!" it exclaimed. "Art thou there? I am glad, indeed, tofind thee. Hold on till I get to thee."

  "Come on, Father Brian," shouted back Ned. "Where is thy horse? Minewas killed by a spear."

  "The evil beast pitched me into the grass," responded the missionary,rapidly striding nearer. "I will see if I can get me another beforelong. I will do no walking if there is a horse to be had. Mark thouthis, though. Hardrada hath won this battle of Fulford, truly, butit hath cost him more men than he can spare. If the English are goingto fight like this, the Vikings will all be killed before the land isconquered. It is about as I told thee it would be. They have Harold ofEngland to deal with, yet."

  The battle-field was a fearful place for any man to stroll around in.Nearly the entire space between the two marshes was littered withcorpses. In many places the slain lay in heaps which told of especiallysevere encounters, or pitiless massacres. They were not all Saxons, byany means, and Ned could understand the forebodings of his intelligentcompanion. Whether or not it was because Father Brian was a highlyeducated man, and could both read and write, he seemed to be somethingof a general if not also of a statesman.

  The distance from the field to the city of York was but a mile or so,and all that was left of the English army was already safe behindthe walls. More had escaped, doubtless, than the Vikings were willingto believe or tell of, and they were in no condition for an immediateattack upon strong fortifications. No more of the invading forces were,as yet, crossing the Derwent River, and the weary victors marched on tomake their camp for the night near the margin of that stream.

  "I guess Tostig will have enough to do without thinking of me," saidNed to himself. "He won't send for me, anyhow, until he thinks I'vemade a trip to York and back. What on earth could I say if he were toask me what street there I lived on? I was never there in my life, andI might have to own up. What I want most, just now, is to know whereVebba's men are, and if Lars did any fighting. I don't think they gotto the front."

  At this hour the King of Norway and his officers were hard at workfinding out the state of their forces, and trying to get them intoshape for whatever might be coming next. They were in no fear of anyimmediate attack from the terribly shattered lines of the Englishearls, but it would be necessary to make short work of the subjugationof the northern counties of England. These, as to their boundaries andorganisation, were in effect nothing more than old kingdoms of theSaxon Heptarchy, as changed, from time to time, by Danish and otherconquests. There was no such thing, in those days, as a united, solidEngland. Several kings were yet to reign, and much blood was to bespilled, before such a result as that would be accomplished. Ned, theson of Webb, discovered, in his conversation with Father Brian, as theywalked on among the camps, that his friend was possessed with a curiousidea that Great Britain, for its good, must some day be annexed toIreland.

  "Then, my boy," said the enthusiastic missionary, "thou wilt see whatcan be done for all these heathen by conversion and civilisation andeducation. This will become almost as fine a land to live in as Irelanditself--but not quite."

  They had little difficulty, after all, in discovering the camping-placeof so well known a chief as Vebba. When it was reached there was anexceedingly noisy welcome, with an exchange of news items. The menliked Ned, the son of Webb. Even Sikend the Berserker shook hands withhim, for he had heard that the young hero from York had been seen inthe very front of the battle, doing wonders of valour, and afterwardchasing the beaten Saxons and Danes and Angles into the swamps of theOuse.

  "What a dime novel it all is!" thought Ned. "And Vebba's men take theirshare of the victory and the glory, although they were not in it atall. Why, if it were in our army, old Vebba might be promoted to be abrigadier, and Sikend to be a colonel."

  However that might be, he and Lars had a tremendous time bythemselves, exchanging yarns and experiences, and then they slept likea pair of warlike tops.

  The next day was Thursday, for the battle had been fought on Wednesday.All the army knew, at an early hour, that messengers were coming andgoing between King Hardrada, on the one side, and the English earls, onthe other. It was said that a treaty of peace was making, and that theKing of Norway was at once to become king of all that part of England,with Tostig under him as Earl of Northumberland.

  "Now, Father Brian," inquired Ned, "what do you think of thatarrangement?"

  "What do I think of it, indeed?" replied the subtle-minded priest."It needeth no thinking. It is as plain as is thy nose upon thy face.Edwin and Morcar are doing the thing that I would do myself, if I werein their place. They are skirmishing to gain time, and to put Hardradainto as deep a trap as they can dig. Not either of them is reallyintending to give up anything. Neither thou nor I would be in a hurryto give up an earldom, and surrender to the vengeance of Tostig first,and then to the wrath of King Harold of England."

  "Thou thinkest they are playing sharp?" said Ned. "If that is so, thenall we have to do is to watch out for a bit and we'll hear somethingdrop. According to your idea, there's the biggest kind of a mistakebeing made by Hardrada."

  "Just so," said the missionary, quite thoughtfully, "and thou and I maynot remain in the Viking camp any longer than we can help. The commandgiven thee by Tostig the Earl upon the battle-field must be obeyed bythee speedily, and I will accompany thee into York."

  "All right," said Ned. "We don't want to see Tostig again until we havedone something worth while."

  "Let us now walk around," said Father Brian. "Talk not so much in thySaxon tongue. I wish to see the Stamford bridge over this swampy riverDerwent. It is the only crossing for miles and miles, up and down. Theriver is not deep enough for ships. I think it is a part of the trapset for Hardrada."

  "What he needs," remarked Ned, "is a lot of East River and North Riversteam ferry-boats. They would take over a whole army before bank hours.They do it, now, every day in the year."

  All of the invading army that was on the York side of the Derwent wasnow lying near the head of the bridge the missionary spoke of. On theother side of the river was encamped very much the larger part of theremaining strength of King Hardrada. To this larger division additionswere all the while coming from the ships in the Humber.

  "Here we are, my boy," said Father Brian, as he and Ned came to thebridge. "It is a good one, what there is of it, but it's narrow andthere is no fort at either end of it."

  "I should say it is about wide enough for one two-horse wagon," saidNed. "Two of them couldn't pass each other on it. For its length, it'sabout the meanest bridge I ever saw. It would take our army a longwhile to foot it across that thing."

  "It is my opinion," said the missionary, sombrely, "that every last manof King Hardrada's army would do well to walk over it this day, oneway or the other, and join forces. I have had my look at it and I willgo. It is thy duty and mine to get into the city of York as soon aspossible, and stay there."

  "I must get in, anyhow," said Ned. "I wouldn't like, even now, to havethe earl come riding along and find me here. He's rough. I think anyman would want to get behind good walls, just now, though--unless hehad his life insured pretty heavily in good companies."

  Father Brian stared at him for a moment, but that was one of many ofthe sayings of Ned, the son of Webb, to which the good man did notattempt to make any reply.