"Cease, old man," said Cædwalla. "I know well what is prudent, and what is rash. It becomes not Cædwalla to decline to punish the murderer of Athelhune, and I know my own duty as well as pleasure."
Arwald knew well that the game was up, but he counted on at least killing Cædwalla before the rest of the West Saxons could arrive. He ordered his men, therefore, to pay no attention to any other of the small following of Cædwalla, but to rush simultaneously upon the victorious king.
"What!" shouted Arwald, "is the dainty young chief of the robber-band afraid to meet the axes of warriors? Has he come thus far, and, finding himself face to face with brave men, does he now fear to meet their blows? Why does he not rush forward to avenge all his dead eorls? The axes of Arwald and the Wihtwaras have drunk deep of West Saxon blood."
"All in good time, my friend, all in good time. A king chooses his own season and means of punishment, and thou shalt not be forgotten," answered Cædwalla disdainfully.
All the West Saxons having now recovered their breath, Cædwalla advanced towards Arwald. Ceolwulf had seen the object of the Wihtwara chieftain, and he warned the few men round Cædwalla to look out for a rush.
As soon as the king set foot on the level sward on the summit of the knoll, Arwald and his men made a simultaneous charge upon him, which Cædwalla, on his part, sprang forward to anticipate.
Arwald, trusting to his huge strength and ponderous weight, struck with his battle-axe straight at Cædwalla's head, and the West Saxon king received the full force of the terrific blow on his already half-severed shield. The axe cut through the iron studs and ornaments that still kept the shield together, and buried itself sideways in Cædwalla's left arm. But Cædwalla's right arm was not idle. Striking with all his force at the same moment that he parried the blow of the Wihtwara, he cut through the steel hawberk, the under shirt of leather, and deep into the flesh of Arwald between the ribs over the heart; for Arwald was so determined to destroy his adversary that he took no thought of guarding himself. Before Arwald could recover from the overbalance of his own thundering blow, Cædwalla had struck again, and this time he aimed at the bare arms of the Wihtwara. So fiercely did he strike that the whole muscles and flesh of the upper arm were shorn off clean to the bone, and Arwald knew he could never fight again. The blood flowed down in torrents, but his rage still burnt fiercely. Wielding his axe in the other hand, he struck straight for Cædwalla's face, and the king had no use in his other arm to ward the blow. He parried it with his axe, but not sufficiently to prevent the axe glancing off and inflicting a deep gash in his neck. But Arwald had struck his last blow, for Cædwalla, swinging his axe over his head, brought it down with fearful force on the helmet of his antagonist. Right through the iron helmet it went, and deep into the skull, and there so wedged itself between the bones that Cædwalla could not draw it out, and the huge Wihtwara chieftain rolled over to the ground dead.
But Cædwalla would also have been dead before now had it not been for the trusty Ceolwulf. The adherents of Arwald, true to their orders, and reckless of their own lives, had crowded round Cædwalla, and struck at the same time as Arwald. Two fierce blows aimed at the king were caught on Ceolwulf's shield, which was not so much damaged as Cædwalla's. A third was parried by the old man's axe, while a fourth the noble old warrior received in his own body, which he interposed between his lord and the death blow. The Wihtwara's axe caught Biggun on the chest, and would have penetrated to the lung but for the soundness of the mail shirt he wore. As it was, the stout old man swung his axe round upon his foe who had given him the wound, and split his helmet and head, felling him to the ground. The other attendants of Cædwalla had not been idle. The blows intended for the king were intercepted, and in many cases the Wihtwaras were killed without offering the least resistance to their slayers, so intent were they in trying to kill the rival of Arwald, and thus fell an easy prey to their antagonists. The fall of their chieftain, however, caused them to turn much more desperately on the West Saxons, and fierce blows were showered on all sides; but the result could not be doubtful for a moment. After a few plunging blows, wild struggles, and fierce imprecations, all resistance ceased, and Wihtea was won to Cædwalla.
How Cædwalla won Wightea and slew Arwald