Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Brecc had long lost count of the number of men who had fallen along the Saxon shield wall. He only knew that miraculously, their wall had remained firm and that the Vikings' endurance was waning.

The battle had become a test of resolution, and the men of Wessex had more to fight for than the invaders. This was their homeland.

"We have them, men!" King Alfred must have also sensed the change of mood along the enemy's line. "They cannot withstand us!"

With renewed determination, the Saxons pushed harder. A few cracks in the Viking line appeared.

"Now!" the king roared, and with a mighty surge, the Saxons broke through the faltering barrier.

The Vikings scattered, some falling to the ground, others running for cover as the enormous wave of Saxon warriors that had held their positions behind the shield wall burst forth. Wielding axes and swords, each man's fury over what the Vikings had stolen from them was unleashed. The clash of metal stung Brecc's ears; the shouts and screams were chilling.

Drawing his sword, Brecc assessed the immediate vicinity for signs of pending danger. Not far away, a small cluster of men were engaged in a battle of their own. The Saxons outnumbered the Vikings and appeared to have the upper hand. There was a flash of movement behind Brecc. He pivoted, raising his weapon just as the Viking thrust his sword at Brecc's chest. Propelling his arm upward, Brecc deflected the strike. He stepped back, circling slowly, his eyes not leaving his attacker. The Viking slashed. Brecc parried, catching his enemy's blade with his own. Caught off guard, the Viking loosened his grip. It was the opening Brecc needed. Before his opponent could recover, Brecc lunged forward. His blade pierced the Viking's chest.

"They're fleein'!" A young Saxon warrior raced up the hill toward him. "You see, sire! We routed 'em!"

Brecc turned. It did, indeed, seem that the Vikings who had not fallen had determined their cause was lost. Some were running, others were limping, but each one was leaving the hillside. The Saxons stood among the carnage, their expressions ranging from stunned to sickened to victorious. A cheer sounded. It was echoed by another, and Brecc's stomach sank. As much as he loathed what must be done, he knew there was no other way if they were to prevent history from repeating itself. He scanned the hillside, searching for the king as yet another cheer issued forth.

"Enough!" The king's roar was unmistakable. He stepped out from behind a couple of thegns at the crest of the ridge. "This is no time to celebrate. Our brothers lie dead and dying, and we have not finished the work we set out to do." He pointed to the ancient fortress. "After them! None must escape if we wish to prevent a second, even more deadly attack."

Brecc clutched his sword, a toxic mixture of relief and repulsion churning his stomach. It seemed that the king's memory of the Battle at Wilton was as painfully clear as his own. Brecc did not know how many friends he had lost this day. It had been hours since he'd seen Odda or Rheged. But there could be no doubt that if the Vikings were not stopped now, he would likely lose more, and the Saxons would also lose their victory.

All around, men were responding to the king's order. Most were hastening after the fleeing Vikings on foot. But the king and the thegns who were with him headed to the woodland. Brecc had no need to consider his options. Averting his eyes from the slaughter that surrounded him, he bolted down the hill toward the trees, his mount, and Aisley.

"'Tis sufficient, Aisley," Lufian said. "I thank you, but there are others needing you more."

Aisley cinched the knot on the bandage she'd tied around the thegn's leg and glanced around the small clearing. Lufian was right. She was not sure how word of her presence in the woodland was spreading, but the number of injured who had managed to reach her was steadily growing.

Rheged had been the first to arrive. The cut on his arm had been so deep, she'd been forced to sew it closed to stop the bleeding. There had been no time to wait for a pain remedy to take effect; he'd lost too much blood already. That was likely the reason he'd lost consciousness after the first stitch. He'd awoken not long ago, still pale of face and weak of movement, but she was grateful to see him alert once more.

She moved to the young man seated on the ground beside Lufian. His hair was caked with blood.

"'Ow bad is it, mistress?"

Gently, she dabbed his head with a damp rag, searching for the wound. "The cut is not large, but heads tend to bleed rather a lot." She gave him a reassuring smile. "A few cobwebs and a bandage will help put a stop to that."

His relief was instant. "I'm most grateful."

She had barely finished wrapping his head when the crack of breaking twigs beneath lumbering footsteps announced the arrival of someone else. She looked up.

"Odda!" She scrambled to her feet. The thegn staggered farther into the clearing, a young man in his arms. "Are you hurt?"

"Not me." He lowered the warrior in his arms to the ground. "The Vikings are fleeing, and the king has ordered us to go after them. I came for my horse and stumbled upon this lad at the edge of the battlefield. I believe he is someone you know."

Aisley dropped to her knees beside the young man, and her heart dropped. "Taber!"

The stablehand's eyes fluttered open. "Mistress Aisley." His smile was weak but genuine. "We did it, mistress. We beat back th' Vikin's."

But at what cost? Taber's tunic was red with blood, and his fingers trembled as he felt for the gaping hole in his side.

"'Twas a spear that got me," he said.

"Did you pull it out yourself?" Aisley could hardly countenance the thought, but his deep, ragged wound spoke of extreme damage and pain.

"Aye." He closed his eyes. "I wasn't goin' t' die with a Vikin' spear in me."

Fighting back tears, Aisley looked up at Odda.

He grimaced. "Forgive me. I did not realize how bad ..." He ran a bloodied hand through his hair. "I thought mayhap ..."

"You were right to bring him," Aisley said. She could not think of all those dying alone on the battlefield. "I will take care of him."

With one more regretful glance at Taber, Odda moved away. He cut through the clearing, heading toward the spot where he'd left his mount.

"Wait!" At Aisley's call, he turned back. "Have you seen Brecc?"

He shook his head, his expression grim. "Not since this morning." And then he was gone, moving through the trees at a run.

He may be too wounded to reach the woodland. He may be dead already. The haunting thoughts circled her head. Her heart ached, but she refused to give up hope. He had promised he would come. Swiping at her traitorous tears, she gathered her discarded cloak, wadded it into a makeshift pillow, and carefully slid it beneath Taber's head.

She sensed movement at her right one heartbeat before a thick arm came around her, pulling her to her feet and knocking the wind out of her lungs as her back was pressed up against a mail byrnie. Gasping for air, she clawed at the arm that pinned her.

"Well now." The accented voice sent tremors of horror crawling down her skin even as a blade pricked at her throat. "I come to trees for horse and find a wife."

One of the injured men cursed, and a bird called.

"No!" She could manage nothing more than a raspy whisper, but it was enough to break the chilling silence that had descended on the grove.

"I say yes." Rangvald yanked her backward and spun her around so they were facing the cluster of helpless, wounded men. "And these fools. You see. They say yes."

Aisley's desperate gaze fell on the thegns. Rheged's uninjured arm lay across his torso as if he'd been reaching for his knife when Rangvald seized her. He did not look at Aisley. His eyes were on the chieftain, a look of frustration and animosity burning in their depths. Lufian's hand was on the handle of his knife, but he appeared frozen, his jaw tight and his face pale. Their unspoken message was clear. They could do nothing while a knife was at her throat.

Brecc pressed himself against the trunk of the oak tree and forced himself to think past the terror of seeing Aisley in Rangvald's clutches. Praise the heavens for Rheged's warning whistle. After three months of depending on those bird calls to stay alive during raids and ambushes, Brecc's response to the sound had been both instinctive and instant. He had stopped in his tracks when he'd been a mere handful of paces from entering the grove, and he'd deviated from his initial approach so that he might view the clearing before he entered it.

Tearing his gaze off Rangvald and Aisley, he counted the injured. There were eight men seated with their backs to trees or the boulder, including Rheged and Lufian. Eleven lay on the ground, at least half of them with closed eyes. Not one of them was capable of rapid movement. He would need to take on Rangvald alone. But he couldn't do it while the brute held Aisley. He needed a distraction.

With his attention on Rheged, he imitated a blackbird's call. The widening of Rheged's eyes was so subtle it would have been unnoticeable had Brecc not been watching for it. Rheged glanced at Lufian. His acknowledging nod was equally slight. The men knew he was there.

"Drop your blade, Rangvald," Rheged said. "She is unarmed."

The Viking chieftain laughed. It was a cruel, mirthless sound. "Fools." He pushed her forward.

"No!" she cried, planting her feet even as his knife hovered dangerously close to her neck. "I would rather die than go with you!"

Brecc tensed. Now. He needed something now.

Lufian struggled to his feet and extended the knife in his hand. "Let her go, and we shall each drop our weapons. You can walk out of here, take a horse, and join Guthrum."

"Your weapons." Rangvald spat. "They are nothing. You are weak. And fools." Contempt dripped from his voice. "I go with a horse and the woman."

He pushed Aisley forward again. She stumbled, and Brecc could wait no longer. He stepped out from behind the tree, knife in hand. "You should have taken Lufian's offer, Rangvald."

The Viking pivoted, slamming Aisley up against his body as he moved. She gasped, but Brecc dared not look at her. His eyes were on Rangvald and the blade in his hand.

"So!" Rangvald sneered. "There is one. One Saxon not bleeding." His eyes narrowed, and the fingers around his knife shifted a fraction. "Yet."

"Let her go, Rangvald." Brecc circled past the two men lying at his feet. He needed to get closer. "It's your only chance for escape."

Rangvald mirrored his move, dragging Aisley backward as he edged toward the treeline. Brecc stepped over a large rock, his foot landing on a twig. It snapped. There was an echoing crack in the trees somewhere to his left. He froze. Someone was approaching. But was it friend or foe?

"You hear it, Saxon?" Rangvald taunted. "Another comes. I think a Viking."

Whoever it was had stopped. No sound or movement came from the woods or the wounded. The air was still. It was as though the very trees surrounding them were listening.

Rangvald darted a glance at the entrance to the grove, and Brecc took another step toward him. How many of the chieftain's men had followed him into the woods in search of a mount? Was he truly expecting an ally, or was there another Saxon warrior nearby?

"You are trapped, Rangvald," Brecc said.

"Lies." He flicked his wrist. His blade flashed, slicing through the top of Aisley's tunic. "I go with my prize. You not stop me."

"I will not go with you!" Aisley writhed, attempting to break free.

Rangvald shifted his weight to pin her more tightly against him. And in that moment, the young man lying at his feet rose up on one elbow, and with his other arm, he plunged his dagger into the Viking's calf.

Rangvald roared with rage. Releasing his hold on Aisley, he pulled his ax from his belt and hurled it at the prone man a heartbeat before Brecc's knife entered the Viking's chest. For one long moment, Rangvald turned his shocked, soulless eyes on Brecc, and then his knees buckled, and he fell to the ground. Aisley screamed. Another twig snapped, and Brecc spun around. A deer darted out from between the trees. At the sight of the men, the creature bolted back into the woods. Rheged and Lufian were now both on their feet, weapons in hand. Leaving Rangvald to them, Brecc sprinted across the remaining distance to Aisley and scooped her into his arms.

"Brecc." Her voice broke, and she pressed her face into his chest and sobbed. Deep, wrenching sobs that tore at his heart.

"It's over, Aisley."

"You are here, and you are whole." Her tears were flowing freely. "I am so grateful." Her shoulders shook. "Taber ... he ... he gave everything for me."

Brecc looked to Rheged. He had pulled Aisley's cloak out from underneath the head of the young man who had attacked Rangvald and was spreading the fabric over him. Taber. Memory of Aisley's account of her flight from Wiltshire returned. The stablehand whose clothes she'd worn, who had saddled a horse for her in the early hours of the morning to facilitate her escape.

"Is that who it was?"

"He fought for the king." Another sob escaped her. "And he fought for me."

Brecc smoothed the strands of hair that had come loose from her plait away from her face. "He chose the noblest of causes, and we shall see that he is given a burial fit for a hero."

She looked up at him then, her eyes red and swollen. "You would do that for him?"

"Without question. He saved you—not once but twice. I am forever in his debt."

She wiped the moisture from her face. "He would like that." Still wrapped in Brecc's arms, she looked over at Taber's shrouded body and then seemed to recall their situation. "Forgive me." She pulled back. "Odda was here. I know you must join the king."

"I shall go when my work here is finished."

"Your work here?"

He looked around the grove. "These men have offered their lives for the king. When they are ready, I shall help them onto the carts that carried the weapons. Edington is no more than eight furlongs from here. King Alfred would wish them taken to the royal estate located there to recuperate."

"Your assistance with loading the carts would be welcome." Rheged joined them. "But once they are ready, Lufian and I are well enough to drive." He set one hand on Brecc's shoulder. "After all that has transpired today, I am glad to see you, my friend. Although, if you had given any thought to the welfare of my heart, you would have timed your arrival a fraction earlier."

"Believe me when I say yours was not the only heart to suffer." Brecc ran an unsteady hand across his face. Only now that the danger had been averted was the reality of Aisley's perilous situation truly sinking in. If he had survived the battle only to lose her to Rangvald ... He cut off the thought. Rangvald was gone. He would never threaten Aisley again.

Placing his hand on the small of her back, he guided her away from Rangvald's body. "Come," he said. "Show me and Rheged what we must do to help these men."

"In case you have forgotten, I am one of these men," Rheged said.

"Indeed. But you are standing on two feet and supposedly capable of driving a cart. If I am going to entrust the safety of the woman I love to you, you'd best show that you can at least lift a pouch of healing herbs or a roll of bandages."