“It was terrible, Leofric. More and more men were clambering over the wooden walls, and Cearl and King Lago were becoming overwhelmed. Cearl saw King Lago fall, an axe splitting his helmet in two, with blood pouring down his face and out of his mouth. Trying to protect him, they dragged him away. On the ground, his body twitched. Although moving, there was no life. Cearl turned to Lago's men and told them he was already gone and to end it. Yet no one moved. Cearl urged them to end his suffering.

‘I cannot kill another’s king.’

A young woodcutter from Aberffraw in Gwynedd stood up.

‘Like I did for my own kin, Golydan, I do for my king,’ and he raised his hatchet, but before he could strike, another landed a blow on Lago’s head, and the king was dead.”

Trained in all the equipment and with our own, we were certain that we would finally receive our hawks. We asked Aldric, and he studied both of us hard for a long while. We stood silent and uneasy. Eventually, he said, ‘Yes, I think you’re ready.’

Trying not to explode with excitement, we stood and waited. Aldric sat down and started to talk to someone else, and we did not move. An hour passed, but we knew better than to press him.

After what to us felt like a life time, Aldric turned to us and, with his mouth wide open and his eyeslids stretched open in an exaggerated look of surprise, said, ‘What are you still doing here?’

Penda said, ‘We are hoping for our hawks, Thane Aldric.’

‘In all the years of hawking, I have never seen a new hawk come to my hand by standing still! Yet I’ve seen many strange things. Maybe if you wait long enough, it could happen. Though, not to undermine the power of the gods, I suggest it might be a little faster to go find one.’

‘How do we do that, Thane Aldric?’ I asked, almost angered but too fearful to show it.

The redness in my face and the edge in my voice must have betrayed my frustration because Aldric first stared at us, forcing our heads down to our feet again, then burst out laughing, causing everyone in the hall to turn their heads.

‘Well, if you don’t know that, it may be possible I could show you... in the morning.’

We kicked every little stone we found along the track back to the stables. There we slumped against its walls. Miserable, we sat in silence for a while until Penda suddenly burst out with...

“The boat had to be narrow enough to navigate the Avon, not sit too low in the water, and be light enough for us to drag it over shallows. It was decided that a log boat would serve us best. I wanted to rest, but I wouldn’t leave Penda’s side either. When Cynegils found eight skilled craftsmen, Penda was still there with his iron axe, selecting the oak tree. He examined several trees carefully, choosing one that was tall, straight, and free of large branches as specified by the builders. He showed so much determination, it had to be him that cut it down. He would listen to the craftsmen but also question them. Over the next half-cycle of the moon, we became boat builders.

Using adzes1 and drawknives, we spent several days stripping all the bark and smoothing the tree into a perfect circle from top to bottom. Marking the ends to our shape, we began to hollow it with axes and then chisels. Men kept coming to me, asking me to tell Penda that the sides must be the same thickness, as none of them dared to say it to him directly.

‘Penda, if you cut too much, we’ll have to start again,’ I told him.

He stared at me, stopping immediately with sweat pouring down over his nose.

‘Let the men do this for a bit; they can make a boat like you can fight.’

Giving no argument, he climbed down off the boat. The fatigue was catching up with him.

‘They were too scared to tell you,’ I said.

‘They should have been scared not to, but you’re right, Beornwald. As Cearl says, we must know what we are masters of and what we are not.’

‘Aldric always said he can wield a sword, but find a good smith to make it,’ I replied.

While they hollowed the boat, we admired the skill and craftsmanship. After the hollowing, they moved several metres away from the boat and started to dig a pit.

‘What are they doing that for?’ Penda asked.

I made a sheepish face of surprise. ‘No idea at all!’

Penda started to stand up.

‘Leave them; they know what they’re doing,’ I said.

Sitting back down, he asked, ‘For what possible reason are they digging?’

‘Well,’ I said, feigning thoughtfulness, ‘maybe they’re preparing you a warrior’s grave.’

‘Not funny, Beornwald. You ask them what they’re doing, or I will.’

I got up and walked over to ask them.

One lifted his head enough to answer me, although he kept looking downwards.

‘Speak, why do you dig a hole?’

The man had a huge head full of white, unkempt hair, and his arms were thinner than mine at fourteen. I wondered how he could dig at all.

‘Speak.’

Trembling, he said, ‘We must fire it.’

I returned to sit by Penda. He waited quite an age before saying anything.

‘Well?’

‘I’d prefer not to say.’

‘You’d prefer not to say,’ he repeated.

‘Yes, I think it’s better that I don’t tell you and that you wait and see.°

‘How could that be better, Beornwald? Tell me what he said.’

‘I don’t think you’ll like it. You’ll probably try to stop them, and then we might never leave here.’

‘No, you must tell me.’

‘If you give me your word you’ll stay here while they do it.’

‘All right, but tell me now, tell me before I put you in the hole.’

‘They’re going to burn it.’

‘What!’”