"What! Ceolwulf, my fine youth," said Cædwalla. "This is a bad business; the brave little lad is not dead, is he? Let me look at him." So saying, the kind-hearted king bent down and took the other limp hand, while he listened for his breathing. After a minute he rose and said, "He's not dead, but he wants attention; have ye no women near who can look after him?"
"I have sent, my lord, for help, and it ought soon to be here," answered Ceolwulf, sadly.
"Well, I can't be of any use, and I won't take thee away from the boy. While the rest of my men are coming ashore—By the way," broke off Cædwalla, "see that the boats are taken to a place of safety for the night. Thou canst send some of thy people to help us in this, canst thou not?" he added, turning to Ceolwulf.
"Our people are all slain," replied Biggun sadly.
"What! no one left? Has it gone so hardly with thee as all that?"
"There are none but women and children and feeble old men. All our bravest youth died with Wulf the Atheling, or were killed in cold blood by Arwald, or were slaughtered but now on yonder hill."
"Where are Athelhune, and Osborn, and Beornwulf, and the three that came with my brother Wulf?"
"All are dead for ought I know. Athelhune perished, slain by Arwald; Beornwulf may have escaped. Osborn and the others died an hour or so ago, on yonder hill."
Cædwalla's handsome features had gradually assumed a fierce expression; a wild, stern light shone in his eyes, and a tightening of his hand over his axe told of the storm within.
"By Woden's beard," he burst forth, "by all the joys of Valhalla, I swear to avenge their blood! Not unhonoured shall they be in the abodes above, or wherever the soul of man goeth. Before I leave this island, I vow to kill all of the race of Arwald that cometh in my way, be it man or woman or sucking child; for not in fair fight were they slain. Oh! Athelhune, my comrade, my right hand, my more than friend, why was I not here to save thee? But I am here to avenge thee, and right well shalt thou be avenged."