Amber Treasure, The by Richard Denning Page A

I thought, they knew they were being taken away into slavery. I thumped
the ground in frustration. How on earth could this be happening? We all thought
we were safe here. Where was our army?
    Then the realisation hit me: by
Woden, we were the army!
    The enemy warriors came on
towards us, leading their captives along and I realised we would be discovered
as soon as they passed through the fence. Eduard had begun to struggle again,
beneath me.
    “Come on, Cerdic, we can’t let
them take our people,” he said. Nodding, though still looking terrified,
Cuthbert agreed and so did I.
    I glanced past the captives and
their guards towards the Villa. I could see no more Welsh, but the sound of the
crashing of sword on shield and the screams of wounded men told me they had
moved on over there now. I spared a brief thought for my father, mother,
brother and sisters. Were they alive? Were they dead?
    There was no time to think about
my family for long, because the enemy warriors were now getting very close and
I felt my belly become all knotted up, so I prayed to the Valkyries to keep my
bowels from emptying. The look of fear on Cuthbert’s face told me that he felt
the same way. Eduard, however, showed no fear; instead his expression indicated
that he had just one thought: murder!
    The three Welsh warriors all
looked alarmingly strong. The lead fellow’s arms carried scars that spoke of many
battles. The other two were younger, but looked just as confident. Our only
hope here was surprise. If the raiders had come from the west, they must have
missed us as we hunted our wild pigs in the woods. As such, they would not
expect an attack from this direction. I indicated to my friends to follow me
and then ran south a little way, to where the grass in the meadow was long. I
then crouched down. The others did likewise. I pointed at Cuthbert’s bow and
then at the lead warrior. I then held up my fore and middle fingers. I wanted
two arrows fired at him. Cuthbert gulped hard, his lips twitching, but he nodded
and then pulled the bow from his shoulder, strung it and took the three arrows
he had thrust through his belt. These he stabbed into the ground in front of
him so as to have them ready for use. He took one and loaded it onto the bow
string. I held my hand up to tell him to hold fire a moment and he pointed the
bow down to the ground.
    I now drew out my long seax. It
was a gift from my grandfather when I was just four, although Father had not
let me carry it until I was eight. I had no sword, but this was sharp and broad
and would have to do. Eduard was not armed and I was worried about that.
Indeed, I was worried about the whole situation. We were just three
seventeen-year-old boys. Our village’s strongest men had been killed: how could
we hope to defeat even three experienced warriors, the youngest of whom must be
five years our elder. Eduard seemed to sense my hesitation. He made a fist and
punched it against his other palm − clearly he was ready.
    The warriors and their miserable
booty were now quite close. They were moving more southerly now. I looked
around and saw that the grass behind me was trodden down, so the Welsh had come
up from the Humber. They must have followed it from Elmet before striking north
and east to the village.
    I whispered to Cuthbert, “Now!”
    My friend nodded and then rose
out of the grass. He brought his left arm up and locked the elbow, then drew
back on the string. He aimed the arrow head at the lead warrior, who was now
only thirty paces away. Cuthbert held his breath for an instant then let the
arrow fly. There was a look of startled horror on the face of his target and
then a sickening sound as the missile punctured his chest. He gave a brief cry
of pain and fell forward onto his knees. For a moment, I didn’t move. Despite
the years of training for war, this was the first time I had seen a man
actually hit by bow or blade. Then, to my right, Eduard burst up from the grass
and charged straight