LEOVENATH. "Have the troops departed?" The lord Earl Humberth asked his 'yellow bellied captain', Wilfred. "Yes my lord, they're gone, under the lead of that oaf Godwin." Wilfred replied. "Did they take the hounds?" The Earl asked. "Yes my lord." Came the answer. "Good, now those vile beasts won't keep me awake with their incessant noises." Humberth shifted in his seat, reaching for a nearby decanter of wine. There came a knock at the door. "Yes." Wilfred said as he opened it. "My lord, it's time."
Humberth finished the wine with a single gulp, looking up to his captain he began; "very well, summon my huscarls."
The two men left the great hall, made their way to the stables, and soon departed the city under the cover of the moonless night.
Once outside the gate, they met up with the huscarl bodyguards. "Good evening sir, their captain, Morcar said as he bowed his head. Humberth merely groaned at the man's greeting. "We're here for business, let none of you forget that. Your lives depend on how this parlay goes." He said kicking his horse into a gallop. The accompanying huscarls and Wilfred followed his lead.
The group rode hard through freshly harvested crop fields, and into the marshes adjacent. After some time they reached the edge of a forest tended by the vassal lord named Erminus of Llanport. He had been summoned as to witness the Earl during negotiations, as well as to bolster the might of Humberth's image before the heathens.
Upon reaching a clearing deep within the forest the riders stopped. The sound of their panting horses alone kept the deafening silence at bay.
"Now what?" Wilfred asked. "Now we wait you fool." Erminus shot back with a hateful glare. "Surely you jest!" Wilfred shot back, mirroring the old man's scowl. "Quiet the lot of you!" Humberth boomed angrily. "No one is to know of this meeting. If you two pig-faced oafs jeopardize this any further I'll have you flayed!" The Earls face burned hot with his words. If looks could kill, and if one could see in the dark, both men would've dropped cold as stone. There came rustling among the trees ahead. "This is it, light your torch Morcar. The heavily armored huscarl struck a flint against his axe blade onto a oil soaked torch. It roared as the flame exploded into life.
"Hand it over." Humberth demanded. Once taking it he waved it in the air above his head. At this sign of 'all clear' ten horsemen trotted out of the trees, riding towards the assembled Angle-men.
"Yew fuls aught to be mur quiet. We cud ere ya a mil away." The leading rider said as he stopped in front of the gathering, his thick foreign accent drowning out some of his words. "Bjarne I presume?" Humberth asked the fur cloaked man opposite him. "No, Bjarne be bak wit de oders at camp. Aye be Tormod, that be al ya need to no." The rider replied. "Rightly so." The Earl began. "To business then." Tormod nodded impatiently saying "aye." "Tell Bjarne that the king is to rally his men near a small village a few days ride south of here. He'll have the full might of Mercia with him, as well as a sortie of cavalry, and allegedly, field artillery." The Northman nodded as he scoured Humberth's features. "Ferstlee, why ar ya dressed in such rags?" He asked the Earl, while his fur-clad retinue snickered behind him. "Rags? It's but a mere costume; a disguise. What if I were to be seen in my lordly garb riding out into the wilderness in the night?" Humberth asked. "Wudn't bother me. Mite make tings easier." He leaned forward with a grin, exposing his blackened and broken teeth. "The remaining information I will relay to Bjarne himself." Humberth said. At this Tormod grew agitated. "No ya sniveling Angle-man, ya talk to me." "I will do no such thing, for I need assurances from Bjarne, personally." The Earl began. "For I also have assurances to offer him." The fur clad warrior shifted in his saddle, growing more annoyed. "If your war-lord wishes to keep his men intact, as well as have the kingdom, I must have his audience."
The lumbering northman, stroked his beard for a moment, contemplating what would be the proper course. "Very well, hav it ya way. Come!" Tormod said with a frown as he turned, his patience growing thin with the nobleman. He and his raider company lead the Anglishmen as they trotted through the forest in direction of Bjarne's occupied outpost. "I don't like ya, angle-man, nor do I trust ya. Ya people ar weak, ya food be disgusting, ya women uglee, and ya god made ya soft. Ya ev'n hate ya-selfs, fite'n wars, an stabbing each oder in da backs wit skeems." Now it was Humberth who grew annoyed. "I don't care what you like, to be frank. I can do as I please with my land." He said. Tormod looked over his huge shoulder to the red faced Earl. "An now we hav taken it frum ya. So it's ars to do wit it as WE want." He said with a black toothy grin, placing additional emphasis on 'we'. At the twisting of his own words, Humberth felt a shutter of anger.
"Just get us to Bjarne, and everything will be explained." He said agitatedly. Tormod laughed to himself as he tried to size up the Earl. It was true that the northerners viewed the Saxons as weaklings, a simple means to their own ends. Their squabbles and infighting were the only things allowing the Norse to remain. Using such infighting to their advantage had made many a Viking wealthy. "Are we almost there." Humberth asked impatiently. "Ya wil see, angle-man." Tormod replied. They had already ridden quite some distance when flickers of a campfire pierced through the trees ahead. "Happy now ar ya?" The giant of a man asked. "Your sad attempt at Angle-ish is a nuisance." Humberth fired back, irritated. "Take me to Bjarne." At his demand, Tormod and the accompanying Vikings stopped in their tracks. "Listen 'ere ya weakling. I be the one givin ordas 'ere. Ya'd be wise to 'member that." The two men locked eyes and exchanged scowls. The remaining trek was passed in silence as neither party spoke amongst themselves or to the other. With the silence Humberth was free to think, to plot; to spin his web with eloquent silken words and delusions of grandeur. Once Bjarne was entranced, Humberth would creep up and strike.
"Ya ther, stop!" Came a voice from amongst the trees as two riders appeared from the shadows. "Relax Halfdan, Rodmar, it's me." Tormod replied. "And dis sorree band of weaklin's". They two guards looked to him and to each other. "Dis is our guest, the Earl som'body of som'wher, neider is important. He wish to see Bjarne, so I bring him back." Tormod said as he watched their faces slowly frown. "You hav left us exposed by bringin' dem 'ere." Halfdan boomed. "Aye, and what if dey leav, den come back wit an army?" Rodmar spoke up. "Gentlemen please, we must have audience wi…" A loud slap interrupted Wilfred, knocking him off his horse as he tried to intervene. Tormod sat mounted looking down at him. "Ya say nothin unless I ask ya." Wilfred looked up at the wild-eyed Norseman, then shot a glance to his own lord. The Earl turned his head away from his captain carelessly. "May we proceed?" Humberth asked. "Yes!" Came another man's voice as he materialized from the trees. "You may proceed to speak with me."
"Bjarne?" Humberth inquired as he looked down at the standing man. "I be Bjarne." The appeared rider began. "Hav ya come to bring us the remainin' gold ya owe?" The Earl winced at the heathen's arrogance. "I paid you all that was agreed upon." The two men locked eyes. "Aye, but ya didn't account fer all de men I lost." Bjarne said. "If you would've waited until Cenwyn crossed the river before your berserkers attacked, you wouldn't have lost any men." Humberth said with a sour frown, staring at the annoyed war-lord. "If ya woulda attacked he's camp sooner, we woulda faired betta. Eider way tho, angleman, ya owe me gold if ya want dis 'partnership' to continue."
Silence fell as the two groups locked themselves into a vicious staring contest, each man trying to formulate appropriate words. "Ya wil pay up, angleman, or dis agreement is thru." Halfdan demanded as he clutched his sword hilt. Humberth's men also readied themselves as it seemed negotiations were beginning to fail. "Stand down, all of you!" Humberth shouted. "If it's more gold you want, then it's gold you'll get. There's no need for us to waste men fighting amongst ourselves." Bjarne leaned forward on his horse expectingly. "So be it." He said impatiently. The Earl's face grew into a sly grin. "Men! Give them the contents of your saddle bags. Give them the gold to pay for their fallen." Each man dismounted and began pulling sacks of coins out of their saddlebags, and tossing them on the ground before the mounted northmen. "If you want more, you'll hear what I have to propose."
Bjarne signaled Halfdan and Rodmar to pick up the bags then lifted his head to see the Earl. "If I want, I take." He roared at the Earl and his men. "These bags ar but lose change! Ya try to cheet me an my men?" Humberth's grin grew wider. "Merely gold? Why have a few shiny coins, when I offer you this entire kingdom!" Tormod began to chuckle at the Earl's words, followed by all the accompanying men except Humberth. "Are you interested?" He asked. Bjarne wiped a tear from his eye as he stopped his laughter. "Ya are quite the man," he chuckled. "How do ya expect to do such ting?"
"If you hear me out, and keep to the plan it'll be easy." Humberth said. "Very well, join me and eat, drink, and rest ya men." Bjarne replied as the company of horsemen turned to make their way back to the Viking camp. Erminus and Morcar exchanged nervous glances as they rode into the camp. Even Wilfred remained silent as he watch the rambling hordes of Northmen carry on around a bonfire. The were tipsy with ale, laughing at each other's stories, and engorged with meats. A few of the rambunctious throng resorted to brawling among themselves over a mild jest recurved as an insult. Such fight ended with a man breaking a log over the others back, causing him to drift off into slumber. "Quite the noble bunch." Erminus whispered to Morcar, who replied with a slight chuckle. "These misfit children are what threatens us?" Wilfred said, perhaps a bit too loudly. Erminus jabbed him in the side with an elbow. "Quiet!" He demanded. Tormod gave the whole assembly a bitter glare.
They passed through the camp as Bjarne lead them to his tent. It was a large covering made of a patchwork of animal hides, with skulls adorning the corners and around the opening. Two great-axe wielding, heavily mailed warriors stood guard at the domain's open flaps. "Aight angle-man, dis be wher we talk. Come in, get some grub." Bjarne said with a toothy grin as he dismounted and pointed towards the opening. The Earl, his captain Wilfred, Erminus, and Morcar dismounted to join the Norse war-lord inside. "You three wait outside, this proposition requires great tact and discipline; I will not allow any of you to interfere. Understood?" Humberth said as he glanced to each man. They nodded and stayed with their horses as Bjarne, Rodmar, and Halfdan went inside. The two guards closed the tent flaps once they'd passed. "Ya ar stuck wit my company!" Tormod said with a sly smile as he choked down a horn of ale. "I'll much appreciate it." Wilfred struck back at the bear fur clad man. "Silence you!" Erminus scolded quickly. "You heard what the Earl said, we are their guests. You should be more courteous." Wilfred digested the words shooting him a sour sneer.
Inside the tent was quite opulent, relatively speaking. Bear furs adorned the ground, buck antlers had been tied together and laced with candles for chandeliers; a roaring fire rested within a great stone hearth, and servants set the massive long table with all varieties of game and pillaged greenery. "Join me sirs." Bjarne spoke, jrs Turing the company of angle-men to sit with him to eat and discuss business. Each man took a seat and we're instantly waited upon by several - obviously hostage - maidservants. "Looks inviting." Morcar said as he scanned the vast array of dishes laid before him. He looked around the table and tent, absorbing his surroundings until his eyes found Humberth's sour expression. "My apologies lord." He quickly remarked. Rodmar, seeing the quick exchange between the Earl and his companion let out a faintly audible snicker, saying; "ya surround ya self wit strong men, yet ya ar weak."
"That's enuf tauntin' ar guests." Bjarne began as he waved a hand to silence his man. "So, how bout dis kingdom business?" He asked facing Humberth. However intense such insult was meant to be was debatable; yet the words rang true for all, save Humberth himself who couldn't see the reality of it. "Weak? Interesting." The Earl mumbled to himself, resting a hand on the table. Rodman smirked towards the curious man. "Weak." He said again, causing Humberth to roll his eyes. "I said enuf!" Bjarne shouted, slamming his fist on the table, knocking over a tankard of ale as he grabbed the attention of all surrounding men. "What of dis kingdom business ya speak of?" He asked once more after growing ignored by the interruption. "Yes, right," Humberth gathered his thoughts. "As I was saying." He began. "I offer you all of Mercia; all of Angle-land rather! All you have to do it ally your men with mine, and follow me to Aelingford to face king Aelberht." The Earl summarized his scheme, tempting Bjarne to bite his hook. "What grievance do ya hav wit ya king dat'd make ya do such ting?" He asked the blank faced Humberth. This was the opening the Earl sought, with which to further spin his web. "Aelberht is my uncle, my father's brother; it was he who stole my crown - my birthright! I have despised and plotted since. Waiting for a chance to take what is mine; and your people's invasions have offered me a golden opportunity to do as such. This is the sign from Heaven that God will not stand for injustice!" Humberth said with a slight grin, for he'd practiced his lines well in advance of this moment. Bjarne shifted in his seat, as he polished off another tankard of ale.
"So dis Aelberht, is ya uncle?" He asked prying for further clarification. "Indeed he is." Humberth replied. "And he stole ya father's inheritance?" Bjarne asked again. "He did, the bastard." The Earl said, cursing the king under his breath. "Why?" The warlord began. "What grunds did he hav to take it frum ya? Wer ya unable to fulfill?"
"No, I was simply to young; needed more time to learn and mature. I was but a pup when my father perished. Aelberht was designated to regency until my coming of age. After which, I'm still left waiting." He replied, forcing a tinge of angst to rise in his words. Bjarne looked at him and his men for a moment as he thought. Finally he began, "if we do dis, and ya give me the land, what's in it for ya?" At these words Humberth struck the killing blow. "The land will be yours, I shall administer them as your vassal - if you so wish - and you'll receive the full bounty of it all. Regardless of the outcome, I'll have honored my fathers wishes and claimed the crown; afterwords I can do with such crown as I choose. It's my choice to offer it to you as your subject." Humberth finished.
"Well, leave me to discuss dis matter, I'll hav Tormod send ya word in the mornin of ar decision. I wil say, I agree to ya being subject. Ya angle-men already know who wil be winning dis war, and I personallee do not wish to hav ya treat me like ya king!" Bjarne laughed at the thought of himself being betrayed like king Aelberht was about to be. "I believ ya to be smart enuf not to do da same. I'll pull ya guts right out ya arse myself, if I even think ya try to trick me. Dat is a promise." He said as his grin faded into a nasty scowl. "Betta yet, no need to wait; I tell ya now. I will take ya offer, I will take the land; and to make ya sad sense of honor rest easy I'll let ya live to be my puppet."
Humberth felt his racing heart begin to ease. With a sigh he said "we are agreed, these are the terms, and my father's soul shall rest east knowing his sacrifice was not in vain! I thank you Bja - lord, rather. I'll shall leave at once to perform the proper rituals and notify my men." The Earl concluded. "Yea, see to it angle-man. Make ya peace, and I'll meet ya at battle." Bjarne replied with a toothy grin as he downed another tankard of ale. "Another thing, my lord, I have sent scouts ahead to survey the chosen ground. There's a shallow fording area in the river with open ground on either side. The ford itself is maybe a mile wide, ample room for cavalry to flank. Yet the water will slow any crossing of infantry. I propose you align your force into two groups. One perhaps opposite the river to the east, and I'll hide the second group amongst the trees on the west bank. Aelberht will approach from the southwest, as his army will follow the water on their march. We'll catch them with their pants down." Humberth said, amused at his own cleverness. "Dis is good. If da king wants to fight, I'll make 'em come to me." Bjarne replied. "Yes lord, and I'll send the second contingent to aide you, in a flanking position, as well as personally lead my cavalry retinue around and behind to eliminate Aelberht's artillery and archer force; before charging their rear of course." The Earl boasted proudly; causing Bjarne to burst into laughter. "I like ya angle-man, ya hav humor!" He roared as Humberth and his men exchanged quick confused, nervous glances. "Dey focus on my line, and ya come ridin' in to slap dair arses!" He roared in a fit of laughter. "Pur devils, never expect dair own banners to strike them frum behind!" The nervous company joined in his laughter.
After a time of drinking with the northmen, and following much debate and meat, Humberth, Morcar, Wilfred, and Erminus rose; bowed their heads in reverence to their new lord, and left the tent. Once outside Erminus caught up to Humberth and stopped him. "That was too close of a call! You're lucky he doesn't know you; if he did we'd be dead! How could you say King Aelberht is your uncle? What jest!" He whispered agitatedly to the Earl. "Quiet you imbecile!" Humberth replied with a disgusted frown. "I merely said enough to get his drunken arse interested in the task; how else do you expect us few to muster enough power to counter to seize control? Can you pull men from out your bowels? We must rid ourselves of these heathens, for they've played their part by killing the prince. Now they shall die, and Aelberht will fall as well. We kill two birds with a single stone. Yes!" Erminus frowned at Humberth's words. "I thought as much. Now show respect to your next king!" The Earl said coldly to the aged nobleman. "My lord." Morcar said, interrupting Humberth's tirade. "What's our next course of action?" He asked. "Now we ride west, to Powis, to further our cause. I sure the Welsh should like our offer as well." Humberth replied as he and his men clambered up onto their steeds. He cast a final glance over the Norse camp, noticing how some men stumbled with ale, fought their comrades, choked down fistfuls of meat like animals, and relieved themselves wherever was convenient. "Pagan scum." He whispered, spitting forcibly on the ground as he and his men turned to depart…
A trumpet blast rang through the air causing men to stir and rise in preparation of the days march. All around the camp sleeping soldiers tossed in their tents at the brass cry. "Those bastards." The sleepy Godwin muttered as he shifted, slowly rising from his bed roll. "Good morning to you too sir." A nearby man chuckled, nicking himself as he shaved. "That's not what I mean Tilman." Godwin laughed as he began. "Those incessant bastard hounds. Their needless barking has kept everyone awake! I say we let them loose to wander freely, or drive them into the river." He rolled his eyes at the thought. "I'd have to agree Godwin, all the barking will keep the heathens on our heels." Tilman chuckled at the generals word as he wiped his bloody cheek. "My lord, I'm sure the Northmen are already well aware of our position. Any competent commander would have scouts shadowing us as we follow the river." He concluded. "Yes. A competent commander would. I fear we may underestimate our enemy." Tilman finished as he wrung out the wet cloth into the water basin before him. "You jest!" Godwin began with a hardy laugh. "These pigs know such thing as tact or strategy! Have you seen them in battle?"
Tilman shook his head. "I have not yet faced them myself, yet they did destroy the prince's army a…" "No!" Godwin interrupted the man. "Treachery is what defeated the prince! Rather than face his men head on, those despicable oafs cut him off from behind; you've heard the reports I'm sure. I do not believe these barbarians capable of such thought; they must have been helped, I'm sure of it!" Godwin said as he spat on the ground and rose to his feet. "Helped by whom? Gaels? Welsh? Neither of which have been seen in these parts for decades." Tilman interjected, causing the aged commander to run his face Ashe turned to look outside the open tent flaps. "I.. I do not know who it was; that's what worries me. Of all my years as a general, after so many battles with different kings, these heathens I know cannot do such things. They fight in savage waves, as individuals rather than formations, they charge forth headlong; for their culture dictates strong warriors. They must have been helped, I can feel it in my gut." Tilman looked inquisitively at Godwin as he spoke with such certainty gained of his advanced career. "I don't know." He sheepishly agreed with the older tired-faced man.
Within a few minutes of the initial horn blast, soldiers roused, beginning their duties. Some saddled horses, others began cooking, a few tended to sharpening their comrades weapons; most though sought to removing the tents and loading them into the supply wagons. "Make haste men! We resume our march in an hour!" A commander shouted over the vast throng. "Ah, good morning lord!" He announced as he jerked into attention. "I trust you slept well?" Godwin snickered at the man's comment. "Pitifully I fear, Osgood." He said in passing, making his way towards the remaining command staff. Ahead of him stood eight other men anchored around a large makeshift table, vehemently discussing the days course. "Morning lords." He addressed the assembly. "What's our heading?"
"Morning Godwin." One replied, turning to face him. "My lord commanders are debating whether to continue south along the river bank, or to divert a couple miles west, taking up this adjoining road. The road would make our passage quicker, yet we'd lose our ample water reserves." He pointed to a small map at the center of such gathering. "I see." Godwin began. "My lords if I may suggest, perhaps we divide our force in two; one company takes the wagons to this road. The second company of infantrymen will continue the riverbank; and when water is required, several of each group would meet between the two and transfer such?" The assembled men looked to him as he thought out loud. "I concur." One said. "Very well, it has been decided. We shall divide and mirror one another, my thanks lord." Godwin nodded in agreement as each an dispersed to relay the information to their captains.
Another horn blast rand about the disassembling camp, the unusual echoing sound grasped men's attentions as they paused their works to see what had become awry. "My lord! Men approaching on the opposite bank! Perhaps a dozen or so!" A watchman shouted above the troops. Godwin met with Tilman as the two rushed to the perimeter with quick strides. "There my lord. Emerging from the tree-line." The sentry said pointing to a small band of me standing opposite the river of them. One distant man waved as his companions clambered down the bank to the waters edge. "Look, the one waving! His tunic is as freshly laid snow!" Tilman began. "I see it. Must be a monk or such." Godwin replied. "Yet he's accompanied with soldiers, I can see their mail shirts glisten on the water. Huh, must indeed be rough when a clergyman requires mercenaries." He chuckled. Shall I send a man with a cart to recover them? Tilman asked. "No, they can't cross the river with their mail. It's much too deep here. Send some riders further upstream and see if anyone has a boat. Tilman, you'll accompany me to the bank, let's see who these men are." The men surrounding gave a quick nod before scattering to their duty. The two remaining, mounted horses and trotted down towards the river to investigate.
"You there!" Godwin shouted over to the group. "What be your business?" The man in the pristine shirt waved once more and began, "I am prince Cenwyn, and these men are my army." He shouted back. "Cenwyn you say!?" Godwin asked again to be sure of what he'd heard. "You live!?" "Indeed so, my good sir!" Cenwyn yelled in return. "My God! Tilman! The prince lives!" He exclaimed in jubilee. "Yes, I heard him too!" His companion replied. "This is a day of celebration! We must send word to the king!" Godwin roared excitedly as he slipped off his horse, and waded into the water. Once he was waist deep he raised his head and hands to the sky. "My God, thou hast saved Mercia. May you be praised!" He whispered to himself, eyes closed, and face warming in the early days sunlight. "Godwin! Come out from the water. Return with me to camp and we'll spread the word." Tilman said. "Yes. Yes! Prince Cenwyn lives!" The aged man shouted.
Quickly he scampered out of the water and returned dripping to his horse. "Ha, ha!" He shouted, kicking his steed into a fierce gallop. He came careening into the camp, riding like a woman scorn. "My lords!" He frantically yelled. They ran to his side as common soldiers looked on in wonder. "The p…prince! He l…lives!" Godwin stammered, struggling to contain his emotions. "We are saved!" Looks of unbelief glinted across the assembled faces. "Really?!" A man asked. "What did he say?" Came a distant soldier's voice. "Cenwyn lives!" Another exclaimed. The whole camp fell silent for a brief moment as men contemplated and others passed the word; before suddenly erupting into a thunderous cheer of adulation. "We must send word to the king!" Godwin exclaimed as he looked across men's expressions and cheers. He dismounted the horse and hastened towards the assembled commanders to tell of such good news. Upon hearing his words, they too gasped in disbelief; thus he continued pressing his reassurance.
"Last reports say the king approaches Aelingford from due west. His force has drastically swollen in size, and he's commandeered some artillery pieces. He should be just here." A commander said as he pointed to the crudely drawn map. "He'll be at Aelingford by tomorrow at the earliest." Godwin moved closer to see the man's directions. "And where are we?" He asked. "Reasonably, my lord, I'd say we are just here to the north of Aelingford. Based on the shadows and river direction, we should arrive to rendezvous with the king's army when he crosses this road - the one just west of us here - by tomorrow as well. As long as we keep moving that is." The captain said as he pointed out the map, estimating the positions. "If we are to meet the king tomorrow then there's no need to send an advance rider, we'll present Cenwyn to him in person. It'd be a greater relief for them both; more so than mere words." Another commander said, as Godwin fell silent. "I could back that. Like you said; it'd be better." He finally agreed with the others. "However, we must find a boat to get them safely across before we reach Aelingford." The accompanying men nodded with his words. "If he's stuck opposite us, with such few numbers, he'll surely fall when battle commences. Be like stomping a crippled fly." A captain listened intently as he formulated his own response. "Wait sirs! Rather than ferrying the prince across to us, perhaps we ferry men over to him. Then we'd flank the enemy position, and force a more favorable attack?" Each man fell silent as the captain's foresight intrigued them. "Ha, he may be young; yet he has wisdom!" A man chuckled. "Godwin?" The suggesting captain asked. "It'd be dangerous for Cenwyn no doubt, yet if we send a senior officer; one whom commands discipline - to organize a delayed attack after the front lines clash - then we could catch them by surprise and crush their resolve with such." He said, thinking out loud mostly to himself.
"Gentlemen, I believe we've found our man." A commander began. "Godwin! You, Tilman, and two regiments of Thegn swords shall cross and accompany the prince. It's your plan Godwin, see that you spring your trap when the time is right. I'll personally notify the king, when we arrive, of our 'updated' stratagem. Until then; each of you have your previous orders. Stick to the plan; and get this damn rabble moving!" He said, shouting at the end as to draw the attention of the gawking soldiers who stood idly by. At his barking words men returned to life; continuing to fold tents, stock arms, and hastening to armor themselves. Within an hour came the awaited report, "sir! Camp is broken, we march!" Was the cry as men fell into ranks, and the king column began its hurried slog towards the chosen battlefield. "You two regiments shall go under Godwin's guidance. Find a way to cross the river and join Cenwyn. You lot disperse into two columns, one shall continue the river; the other shall take up the nearby road to our west. Move!" Came the thunderous order, causing the columns of men to divide with extreme regularity and discipline among the ranks. Like a giant zipper, the army split in twain as each corps followed the command.
"Alright men!" Godwin boomed. "We'll continue the river bank until we come to a fording or find some boats. Either way, we cross to meet Cenwyn. Forward!" At his command he mounted his horse and trotted over to the waiting Tilman. "If we find no boats, shall we fell trees to build rafts?" Tilman asked. "Yes, but only if we must; the heathen will be alerted to snapping wood and axes. We should try to remain in silence for as long as possible." Godwin replied as his contingent began the march. As the men marched concealed within the tree-line a dispatched scout returned. "My lord, we found a small fishing village ahead. They haven't any boats but…" He bagan. "What sort of fishermen have no boats?" Tilman interrupted the man. "There's crumbled remnants of an old Roman bridge ahead, they use it to fish and cross. However, we'll have to do so on foot, there's not enough left for horses." The man finished, solemnly. "Very well, lead the way." Godwin waved his hand as the scout turned back to show them.
After some time the company reached the locale. "Village? There's barely three houses here?" Tilman laughed. His words struck true, for the aforementioned 'village' greeted the soldiers with charred remnants of sparse dwellings. "Looks like someone left the fire going." He laughed. "They must've destroyed it as they fled." Godwin replied to Timan's attempted jest. "This must be our 'bridge'." He said turning to inspect the scorched stones and collapsed timbers. Slipping down from his horse, the aged commander picked up a rock and tossed it against the remains. Upon receiving the strike the compromised crossing cracked, allowing more of its stones to fall into the river below. "What was that you said about rafts Tilman?" He chuckled. "Men! Gather all the remaining timbers you can find, bring them here. Some of you collect stalks of the reeds from the bank; wind us some ropes. We cross when finished."
Cenwyn and his remaining band stood opposite the river from them. They watch as men tied logs together into a series of makeshift rafts, upon which soldiers clambered aboard, and dared the crossing. Such relatively short distance involved little risk, offering the mailed Thegns and their captain no issue. "My prince!" Godwin said as he knelt in honor. "Rise good sir, there's no need of such reverence. For we're all here in the forest together." Cenwyn chuckled at his own words, as Godwin rose to his feet. "Your father, Aelberht, has summoned the whole of Mercia to Aelingford - just a days march south of here - to avenge you." He began. "And to crush the Northmen too I'm sure?" Cenwyn replied with a laugh. "Yes my lord, that too." Godwin laughed. "From where do you men come?" The prince asked. "Yes forgive me," Godwin began. "We are of Earl Humberth's men, from Leovenath. This is my friend Tilman, our two regiments of swords, and I am Godwin; commander of the Earl's late father's army." He replied. "Semi-retired, my lord." Tilman snuck in a joking jab. Cenwyn laughed at the man's humor. "Good! Come sirs, soldiers; let us continue our trek together shall we?" The prince invited…