abstract
| - The sounds of the camp could be heard from a good way off: men rousing each other and calling for weapons; hissing steam from hastily doused campfires; horses showing by their whinnying that they could well read the nervous mood of their riders. The Saxon army was preparing for battle, but with an uneasiness quite uncharacteristic of a band of warriors that had met and resisted the Heathen from one end of the kingdom to the other. In much quieter tones the men might be heard talking about the reason for their unease: the Danes were coming that day, but no one had seen the King. Through the camp strode a very young man, in his dress and bearing every inch the King's brother. Already suited up in mail, the prince watched the far-off ridge impatiently. When he saw the approaching horses, he ran past the edge of the camp to meet them. "What word from the King?" "Prince Alfred, the King remains at prayers in his tent." "In his tent? The Danes are here - I can see them! Did you tell him that?" "My lord, he refused to see us." Alfred looked out at the ridge, then back at his camp. The Danes could already be heard chanting a heathen war cry. A lieutenant who had followed the prince spoke up. "Prince Alfred, shall we make shield walls?" Alfred stayed silent several moments, then answered. "I will go to see my brother. If the Danes attack, form walls. Otherwise wait for me here." "But Alfred, if they attack us here they have us at a disadvantage." "I will return quickly! Give me that horse." The little party rode into the King's camp. Alfred dismounted outside his brother's tent. Ignoring the bodyguards,he raised the flap and shouted. "Ethelred!" The King knelt at the foot of a priest at the far end of the tent. Interrupted mid-incantation, the priest's face showed a mix of confusion and surprise. But the King looked over his shoulder and gave his brother a look of pure irritation. "Alfred! What are you doing here? How dare you disturb us during the Sacrament?" "Ethelred - brother - my lord..." Though beside himself with impatience, Alfred took a moment to catch his breath. "The Danes have been moving into position all morning. They seized the high downs while we stood watching. We cannot let them also seize the initiative. If we wait any longer we will have to withdraw. We'll lose the whole shire." "Why in God's name do you think I am here? Do you really expect to hold the field without God's blessing? Get back to the men and keep them in order until I arrive." Alfred walked forward, youth and adrenaline making him ignore his own impertinence. "But the men also see that the battle must soon be joined. And they need their king to lead them. Already the Danes are firing arrows to provoke us." Ethelred now stood, his own impatience rising to the level of his brother's. "God's grace must come first," he declared. "When I meet the heathens in combat, I shall face them with a clean conscience. Now you are disturbing us. Either get yourself to the men, or else join me in confession. I daresay you could stand to be shriven as well as I, Alfred." * * * "At last Alfred, seeing the heathen had come quickly on to the field and were ready for battle... could bear the attacks of the enemy no longer, and he had to choose between withdrawing altogether or beginning battle without waiting for his brother." -- Hodgkin, quoted in Churchill, 105
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