Silently we crossed the heath between us and the yelling Danes, and I rode beside Eadmund in my old place, and my heart was light, and sword Foe’s Bane rattled in the scabbard as if longing to be let loose.  And all the while I kept my eyes on Streone, who was riding among his Mercians twenty yards away to our right, and presently behind him I saw Thrand and Guthorm.

I thought that was ill for Streone, but I could not help it now—­we were but a hundred yards from the foe.  The first arrow flight crossed as I saw them, and then Eadmund cried: 

“Forward—­remember Sherston!”

At that word the front ranks sprang like wolves to meet one another—­and then came the shock of the meeting lines and the howl and cheer of Dane and Englishman—­and under the arrow storm the spear and axe and sword were at work.

I kept my shield up and covering Eadmund’s right side, and watched.  The time for us to take our part had not come yet.  And Eadmund looked on his foes to see what chance might be for a charge that would break them when arms grew weary.

Many were the brave deeds that I saw done in that little time, as the first lines fought man to man.  And presently I knew that over against us was Cnut the king, for I saw one who was little more than a boy, whose helm bore a golden crown.  There were several chiefs round him also, and one was Ulf.  But I saw not Godwine, for he would not fight on that day against his own kin.

There, too, was another chief—­he was Eirik the jarl, though I knew it not then; and he looked ever to our right, as if waiting for somewhat.  And when I saw that I looked also, but there was nought that I could see.  Our whole line was fighting well, and this first attack had brought no faltering on either side.

Then said Eadmund to me: 

“Let us make a dash for my stepfather yonder,” pointing to Cnut—­and even as he said it the brave bishop on his left threw up his arms and fell from his horse, smitten in the face with a javelin, and Eadmund leapt down to help him.

As he did so I heard a shout raised that he was slain.

Then was a roar from our right like nothing that I had ever heard—­I pray that none may ever hear the like again—­and I turned and looked to see what was on hand, and I saw the Mercians going backward, and Streone’s horse was heading away from the Danes; and then the men of the Five Boroughs howled and fell on Dane and Mercian alike, cursing and smiting like madmen.

And I saw my two men leap up among the press and smite over the heads of those around them at Streone, and they were smitten down—­they had not touched him.

That was all in a moment, and I called to the king, and he rose up and leapt on his horse and looked.  And as he did so the Mercians, Streone’s men, wheeled round and fell on our flank, fighting for the Danes, and the Danish line swept the Stamford men from before them and joined the Mercians; and I heard a great sob rise in Eadmund’s throat, and he called to me, and charged among the traitor’s men to reach him if he might.  And the Mercians broke and fled before us, and the Danish line unbroken rolled forward and swept us into flight, for our men knew not what they could do.