"Back to back, Guy!" Wulf exclaimed, as he ran his sword through the first man who attacked him.
He had scarcely spoken when Osgod ran up and joined them, and wielding the heavy axe he carried as if it had been a featherweight, struck down several of the Bretons who ventured within its swing.
Wulf defended himself as firmly, but had to shift his ground continually to avoid the blows of the heavy spiked clubs with which his assailants were armed. Presently he heard his name shouted, and an instant later a crash, as Guy de Burg was struck down.
"Stand over him, Osgod!" he shouted, and with a bound was beside his companion, cutting down a Breton who was about to thrust his spear into him. At the same moment a club descended on his helmet, bringing him for a moment to his knee. He sprang up again, Osgod striking his opponent to the ground before he could repeat his blow.
For two or three minutes the fight went on. Wulf received more than one stab from the Breton knives, as two or three of them often rushed in upon him at once, but each time when he was hard pressed Osgod's axe freed him from his assailants, for so terrible were the blows dealt by the tall Saxon that the Bretons shrank from assailing him, and thus left him free at times to render assistance to Wulf. But the combat was too unequal to last long. A pike-thrust disabled Wulf for a moment, and as his arm fell a blow from a club stretched him beside Guy. Osgod had also received several wounds, but furious at his master's fall he still defended himself with such vigour that the Bretons again fell back. They were on the point of attacking him anew, when there was a shout, and William and Harold, bareheaded as they had leapt from the table, and followed by a score or two of Norman barons and soldiers, fell upon the Bretons. The latter with cries of alarm at once fled.
By this time the Norman trumpets were everywhere sounding, and the troops hastening out to repel the attack, which a few minutes later ceased as suddenly as it began, the Bretons flying into the forest, where pursuit by the heavily-armed Normans was hopeless. Returning to the tents, the duke and Harold paused where Osgod, who had sunk to the ground as soon as the Breton attack had ceased, was sitting by the side of his master.
"Whom have we here?" the duke asked. "Whoever they are we owe our safety to them, Harold, for had it not been for the resistance they made, the Bretons would have been among our tents before we had time to catch up our arms. Bring a torch here!" he shouted; and two or three soldiers came running up from the tents with lights.
"Methinks it is one of my men," Harold said, and repeated the duke's question in Saxon.
"I am Osgod, my lord, the servant of Wulf of Steyning, who with his friend, Guy de Burg, lies here beside me, I fear done to death."
"I trust not, indeed," Harold said, stooping over the bodies.