The first man lay dead, close to the wall; near him lay the second leader, still unable to move, for both his legs were broken, and the stone yet rested on them; across him lay the warrior who had nearly killed Athelhune, and who lay face downwards, his helmet cut through, and showing clear evidence of what a well-delivered blow from an English battle-axe could do: he was stone dead. Inside the fortification lay the other man, whose leg had been shorn off by Athelhune; he was fast bleeding to death: nothing could be done for him, even if they had felt inclined. Near the cabin, where Ælfhere and Malachi were placed, was lying the other Wihtwara, with Wulfstan's spear still in him; and not far off was the captured follower of Arwald, sitting disconsolate and sulky, with his hands and feet tied fast.
Of Athelhune's little party only two had received wounds, and those very slight. Wulfstan was unhurt, and had forgotten all about his hunger in the joy of having slain his first enemy, and, more than all, saved his father. The rest of the men were talking together, and already Beornwulf and the Boseham men were fraternising with their late foes, who were offering to go and bring some refreshments, when a distant trampling announced the arrival of a considerable body of some sort.
Athelhune directly ordered the men to their posts, and urged them hastily to repair the walls, and then sent one of the Brædynge men to reconnoitre.
There were a few minutes of breathless suspense, for had a fresh enemy appeared it would have fared badly with the weary and scanty defenders. Suddenly a loud cheer relieved their minds, and they knew that Ceolwulf was coming, and bringing them food.
CHAPTER XII.
"THE KING SHALL HAVE HIS OWN AGAIN."
The wild cheering that answered the shouts of Ceolwulf and his party was scarcely over when the old ceorl appeared, accompanied by a number of Ælfhere's former servants, carrying baskets of provisions and other comforts, from which it was quite evident that there was no further danger to be apprehended from Arwald or his followers; indeed, it was soon known to Athelhune and Ælfhere that all the men of Arwald's party had been engaged in the late assault, and that there was no immediate risk of Arwald himself coming with a larger band, as the news would not reach him rapidly, seeing that all his men were either killed, wounded, or prisoners, and none of Ælfhere's men were likely to report the matter. This was good news to Athelhune's men, who were nearly worn out, and they were very soon engaged in discussing the good cheer.
Some of the choicest of the food was brought to Ælfhere, and although the wounded eorldoman was able to eat but little, yet that little seemed to do him good.
"Oh, father, what a joyful time is this!" cried Wulfstan, with his mouth full of a juicy morsel of pork pasty. "How I do wish Ædric were here! It seems years since I saw him; how he will wish he had had my luck!"
"My son," said Ælfhere, "the gods have been good to us; we must remember to save of the arms of those robbers to make an offering to Woden. There is one of them taken alive; it will be as well to offer him up, that my ceorls who died when they attacked us that night may have one more foeman to hack in pieces in Valhalla. Mind thou seest to it that he is taken care of. Verily, as he hath made me suffer, so shall he suffer."