William H. Babcock - Cian of the Chariots - Chapter XVII: The First Service of the Chariots lyrics

CHAPTER XVII. THE FIRST SERVICE OF THE CHARIOTS. The wonderful rush of the gale, The pervasion of fire, the war of youth. – CUHELN. NOT so much for the oracles of the dead as for the tidings of Wulfhelm, such communities as were still outlying were warned and summoned yet again. Colchester, confident in its strength and the weakness of the enemy before it, sent no fugitives, but even aid. Oisin, for the lake-village, responded with a blast of denunciation directed against all truckling to the heathen and the devil. But there were few other exceptions, and in particular every soul southward of the Thames came pouring in with absolute a**urance of the enemy close behind. As always, these first tales brought the danger nearer than the fact; and there was little certainty of any kind until Tigernach, with a party of horsemen, scouted out to a hill overlooking a good reach of the road. Here he came suddenly on a mounted party of [Page 173] Jutes or Kent-folk, well-blown with the speed of their advance, and sent them back hurriedly, for that was not the arm in which the Saxon excelled. Behind were many footmen, the main body of the army, so the pursuit went no further. The glance that he gave in turning showed Tigernach the three Saxon kings riding together near the van, Eschwine between the others. He bore the news homeward. Before his party had crossed London bridge, there was a great uprolling of smoke and flame from more than one spot behind. Voids cried, "The Sword of Fire! the Sword of Fire!"with quick recognition. A great overspreading and sagging of clouds coming up from the sea threatened these Saxon bonfires with a speedy end. "Something from heaven for our side," said Osburn. "To clog our wheels with mire," grumbled Cian. "We must make a push while we can." Acting on this thought, he set his chariot-procession in motion. Many horsemen and footmen followed, the legionaries and some Christian bodies of the town men pushing forward with alacrity; while the greater ma**, who adored Vran or feared him, required all Aurelia's urging. The most utterly prophecy-ridden were left at the last in the outer defences, being more likely to spread panic than to fight. Cian found his enemy in the open country south-[Page 174] ward beyond the marshes and the first low hills, – a great spear-point of men, with another close behind. Eschwine strode in the tip of the former; in the space before the latter rode the young king of West Kent. Cian threw out his few archers in front, with orders to aim at Eschwine only; then spread his chariots in a very open line, so there should be no entangling in the rush. Osburn and Tigernach led the cavalry, next behind, fairly numerous and good. Last of all the infantry, to cover the archers when these should be driven in or withdraw, and at all times to afford a bristling nucleus. At the best the array was pitiably meagre in comparison, excepting those wheeled engines of uncertain prowess. The first drops of rain were beginning to fall, as these came rolling forward. The archers, well ahead, kept the game to themselves for a time, excepting trivial responses from scattered Saxon bowmen. But when the especial intent became obvious, and Eschwine was nearly smitten off his feet by half a dozen arrows that reached him all together, a wrathful outcry arose, and men broke from the wedge to get at his a**ailants. Before these were back again, the chariots raced in among them, each with its chosen fighting man and with its armed charioteer on the shaft. Perhaps a third of them bore also revolving scythe-blades on their axles. As they rushed [Page 175] through, mowing and tearing, the horsemen swept around on either side, and dashed against the broader part of the wedge. Nothing stood before it, not Eschwine, who was all but ridden down by Cian himself, and swept, exchanging blows as best he could, back to the post of his Kentish ally. Not that potentate either; for the very next chariot on the right sheared at one plunge both the legs from his screaming horse, and it and he rolled together. Not the Saxons of either front in either wedge, for the mounted spear-man of that day was the better soldier, and what was not done by the thrust, or the push of the excited beast, the downward sweep of metal was sure to make good. Thus line dragged into line, then broke in fragments, while the battle-axes took them keenly, and the two charging bodies of horsemen met in the midst. Then was there mere confusion of fighting, where the darting Britons drove at any Saxon cluster which might be found, and the Saxons made head as they could defy them, for few would leave the spot. Meanwhile the British footmen came up, and a far greater number of the Saxons. Obstinately the heathen clung, like winter fruit, to pole or rein or wheel, avoiding as best they could those ghastly mowers of steel, or clambering up on the chariot from behind. Withal they were so very numerous and determined that it was often hard [Page 176] to make any headway; and here and there a vehicle was overturned with slaughter of the inmates. Although Cian and Tigernach disengaged a few horsemen and chariots to beat back or cut up reenforcements, the great bulk of these last very quickly took part in the battle. There was now only a great ma** of Saxon footmen, thinner in places and thicker in places, through which the chariots were cutting lanes; while into the borders horsemen and footmen were pecking with desultory a**aults. But the soil was not over firm, and every rush of the wheels tore it, under the incessant and thickening rainfall, while the hoofs and wrestling feet aided in churning it into mire. A little more, and that power on which Cian most relied would be quite helpless. At the first outlet, he sought the open ground with such as he could signal, and then, in swift rushes, freed others where best he could; and the remainder, catching his thought, everywhere essayed the same. So, very briefly, there were again two hostile armaments, each arrayed disorderly, but one vastly the greater, with a narrow interval between. Then came a great Saxon onset, heavier at the right, where Eschwine led. Osburn struck across his path, with quick interchange of blows, whereby each was slightly wounded, until the wave of men bore the Frank aside, and the Sword of Fire well [Page 177] into the ma** of his enemies. But the chariots, even where they could not move freely, at least served as barriers, and a group of three or four that were anchored most firmly checked him like a rock. The British footmen clambered upon them, and smote down, or thrust spears through the wheels and between them, and under the horses' necks and bodies; and there was a very bedlam of struggling and screaming. Meantime Cian had wheeled about with two or three dozen of his war-vehicles where the ground was firmer, and came plunging in a half-circle to take the Saxons crosswise – the horses gasping and wild with effort, the wheels going deeper and deeper, now and then coming up with great leaps that nearly unsettled charioteer and rider together, or bounding aslant, in clashing over fallen men, who lay singly or in locking couples, and could not shun them. It was the clumsiest and most preposterous of counter-charges, but it served. At the same time, those who were a-saddle, minding less the mire, struck in where they could, or galloped along the border of the Saxons, lancing them. So, after a time, the flood was surely ebbing; and Eschwine, finding himself altogether cut off, doggedly fought his way out and back, and was glad enough to be with his men again. "The work of the chariots is done for this day," [Page 178] said Cian bitterly. "We must not leave them here." It was a hard thought that they might have won him a victory, but for the falling deluge and the softening ground. So, before the enemy had yet gathered themselves to try another a**ault, he set his footmen to freeing the sunken wheels, and led his mounted lances and battle-axes in a spirited dash at Eschwine, to cover the work. That astute Saxon was not at all deluded, yet had no choice but to meet it. Indeed, Cian's weapon, quivering as it struck his sword-blade aside, very nearly transfixed him. But at that moment Cian reeled, the spear-point veered, the shaft rattled on the ground. An arrow, shot out of the ma** of men before him, had seemingly struck him full in the breast over the sprig of misletoe, an inviting mark. Yet, as he came upright again, and turned, now sword in hand, all of either army who were near could well see that no part of the thin gold or silver had sufered any scath, and a great cry of magic went up about them. Eschwine himself, though he doubted, was no longer wholly in love with the encounter. Partly for this, and partly for Cian's greater sk**, it fared badly with the great Saxon, so that he took a sharp gash in the hand, and another in the cheek; and when he leaped up to grapple, the point met him half-way, cutting through the flesh of his left side. The hilt sounded against his ribs, driving him staggering earthward. Then there was a rally of Saxons over him, and a wrangle of the old Greek and Roman fashion; and at the last Cian broke away with his men to rejoin the chariots, already moving cityward. The golden mail and the mistletoe spray were bright as ever. He had left nothing but his lance behind. But the Saxons began to feel themselves victors, with the well-won prey escaping them, and ran breathlessly in pursuit. There were times when depth of soil gave them advantage; but in the main, traversing firmer ground, the superiority of four feet over two showed itself. If the Saxons broke ranks in over eagerness, Cian or Tigernach or Osburn, with a cohort, was back at a gallop among them directly. When the whole ma** made a vehement push together, it was hampered on every side by light smiting charges that clung a moment, and came again, frittering away all impetus. At last, when a bit of gravelly upland was reached, within sight of the walls, and the rain ceased for a spell, Cian wheeled his chariots about, and struck back with them very surprisingly. The sun shone out on the moving steel with manifold glinting. Before the forward running Saxons the British footmen had broken partly away, the horsemen also [Page 180] slanting off divergently. Through the gap hurried the gayly-clad stream of warlike men, the young king of West Kent at their head. Then wheels and scythes and horses and fighting men dashed at them in counter-charge all together, with a rumble and a crash; and, while they smote, the horsemen and footmen on either side smote also. There was very wild and reckless turmoil for a while of the blinded among the blinded, in the midst of which that long-tapering tongue of the Saxon army was torn and shredded, and so whirled back to the lower and softer ground. Before they recovered, Cian was well on his way to the city. But one hope had failed him.