The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis.

by Alfred John Church

  CHAPTER XIX.

  THE SIEGE.

  Day after day the burgesses of Venta awaited the course of events. Forsome time they hoped that, after all, the town might not be visited by theinvaders. The lurid glow of the skies by night, and the clouds of smoke byday, sometimes borne by the wind so close to the town that the smell couldbe distinctly recognized, proved that they were still near. But though theeffects of their work of ruin were visible enough, of the barbariansthemselves no one had yet caught a glimpse. But towards the evening of theseventh day after the Count's arrival a party was seen to emerge from awood, distant about half a mile from the gates. There were four in all;two of them were mounted on small and very shaggy ponies, the others wereon foot. The party advanced till they were about a hundred yards from thewall, and though the fading light prevented them from being seen veryclearly, there could be no doubt that they were some of the dreaded Picts.

  A debate, which seemed, from the gesticulations of the speakers to be of asomewhat violent kind, was carried on for a time among the savages. Thenone of the mounted men rode, with all the speed to which his diminutivehorse could be urged, almost up to the gates of the town. He wore adeer-skin robe of the very simplest construction, with holes through whichhis head and arms were thrust. His legs were bare. Round his neck was hunga bow of a very rude kind. In his right hand he carried a short spear.With the butt of this he struck violently at the gate, as if demandingentrance, and after waiting a few seconds, as it seemed for an answer,turned his pony's head and began to ride back to his party. He had almostreached them before the defenders of the wall had recovered from theastonishment which his audacity had caused them. Then one who was armedwith a bow discharged at the retreating figure an arrow, which more bygood luck than skill, for scarcely any aim had been taken, struck the Picton the neck. He did not fall from his horse, but swayed heavily to oneside, catching at the animal's mane to steady himself. His threecompanions rushed forward to help him, and in another moment would havecarried him off, but for the resolution and activity of the Saxon, whowith the Count was standing on the rampart close to the gate. He loweredhimself by his hands from the wall, a height of about fifteen feet, itselfno small feat of activity, and ran at his full speed, a speed which, ashas been said before, was quite uncommon. Hampered as they were by havingto keep their wounded companion in the saddle, the Picts could move butslowly, and were soon overtaken. With two blows, delivered with all hisgigantic strength, Cedric levelled two of them to the ground, and, seizingthe wounded chief, threw him over his shoulder, then turning ran towardsthe gate. For a moment the third Pict stood too astonished to move. Cedrichad thus a start of some yards, and before he could be overtaken, had gotso close to the wall as to be under the protection of the archers andslingers who lined it. The next moment the wicket of the gate was opened,and the prisoner secured.

  It was evident that he was a prize of some value, for a rudely wroughtchain of gold round his neck showed that he was a chief. He had ridden upto the gate against the advice of his followers, as it was guessed, underthe influences of copious draughts of metheglin. The effect of the liquor,together with the pain of his wound and the shock of his capture, had beento make him insensible when he was brought into the town. While he was inthis state his wound was dressed by a slave who had some surgical skill,and who declared that though serious it was not mortal. When he recoveredconsciousness he behaved more like a wild beast than a man. His first actwas to tear furiously at the bandage which had been applied to his wound.The attendants mastered him with difficulty, for he fought with theferocity of a wild cat, and then bound his hands and feet. Thus renderedhelpless, he raved at the top of his voice till sheer exhaustion reducedhim to silence, a silence which was soon followed by sleep.

  Cedric and the Pict.]

  The night passed without any attack. It was evident that the Picts were inconsiderable force, for their watch fires were to be seen scattered over awide extent of country, and there was much anxious talk in the town aboutthe chances of a siege. Few indeed in Venta closed their eyes that night,and with the earliest morning the whole town was astir. The invaders, ofcourse, had no notion of how a siege should be conducted, nor had they thenecessary mechanical means even if they had known how to use them. Theirarrows did but little harm, for their bows were ill made, and had but asmall range, nothing like that which was commanded by the better weaponsof the defenders. With the sling, however, they were singularly expert,and inflicted no small damage, making indeed some parts of the wallsscarcely tenable. But as they could do nothing without showing themselves,they suffered more loss than they inflicted. In the early days of thesiege especially, a catapult, which the garrison worked from the walls,did great damage among them. After awhile they were careful not to collectin such numbers as to give a fair mark for this piece of artillery.

  The townspeople were greatly elated at their success, and when, about afortnight after the first appearance of the invaders before the walls, twodays had passed without one of them being visible, concluded that,hopeless of making any impression upon the place, they had disappeared.

  They were soon undeceived. It was growing dusk on the third day after thesupposed departure of the enemy, when a heavily laden cart was drawn up tothe western gate of the city. The driver, apparently a country man,knocked for admittance. By rights, at such an hour, it should have beenrefused, but the vigilance of the watch had begun to slacken, most of thebesieged believing that the danger was practically over. Accordingly, nodifficulty was made about throwing open the gates. But, once thrown open,they were not so easily closed. Just as the cart was passing through theopening in the wall one of the wheels came off, and the vehicle broke downhopelessly. Commonly it would not have taken long to clear the obstacleout of the way. There was usually a throng of people about the gates andon the walls, and a multitude of willing hands would have been ready tolend their help. But just at this moment the gates and walls were almostdeserted. Even-song was going on in the Church of Venta, and a preacher ofsome local fame was expected to enlarge on the Divine mercy shown in thedeliverance of the town from the barbarians. The keepers of the gatewould, therefore, have been at a loss even if they had seen the necessityof bestirring themselves. As it was, they were content to do nothing. Theyamused themselves by standing by and laughing at the rustic driver as heslowly unladed from his vehicle its miscellaneous cargo, the contents, itseemed, of one of the country-side cottages, from which the terror of theinvasion had driven their inhabitants. The process of unloading, carriedon slowly and with much grumbling, was scarcely half finished, when one ofthe warders, chancing to look behind him, caught sight of a body of menrapidly approaching through the darkness. A number of Picts had concealedthemselves in the wood mentioned before as distant about half a mile fromthe wall, and when they saw the gate blocked by the broken-down cart--apart, it need hardly be said, of the stratagem--had made a rush to get toit before the obstacle could be removed. A hasty alarm was raised, andsome of the citizens who were in hearing ran up. But it was too late. Therustic driver, a villain whose treacherous services had been bought by theenemy, had quickened his work when he saw his employers approaching, andcontrived to finish the unloading of the cart at the very moment of theircoming up. In a few moments some of them had clambered over the emptyvehicle, struck down the guards, and disabled the fastenings of the gates.Before many minutes had passed the whole of the ground outside the gatesseemed to swarm with the enemy, and though the townspeople had now begunto make a rally in force, it was too late to make any effectual effort tokeep them out. The situation would in any case have been full of danger.At Venta it was hopeless. A garrison of veterans might have kept theirheads, but there were not more than sixty or seventy among the defendersof Venta who had ever seen service in the field; and the citizen soldierswere fairly panic-stricken when they saw themselves actually facing afurious, yelling crowd of barbarians, cruel and savage creatures inreality, and
commonly reported to be even worse than they were. Withouteven striking a blow they turned and fled. The Count, whom the alarm hadjust reached, was met, and, for a time, carried away by the tide offugitives. Still he was able to rally a few men to his side for a lasteffort. Some of his own followers were with him, and the rest could befetched in a few moments. The gallant old centurion, in spite of hisseventy years, was prompt with the offer of his sword; and, as alwayshappens, the infection of courage spread not less rapidly than theinfection of cowardice. Altogether a compact body of about a hundred menwere collected. Well armed and well disciplined they turned a steadfastface to the enemy, and were able to make their retreat to a little fortwhich stood on a hill to the south-east of the town. Carna, the priest ofVenta and his family, and a few other non-combatants were with them. More,in the terrible confusion of the scene, it was impossible to rescue. Allthrough the trying time Cedric distinguished himself by his coolness andcourage. When once he had seen Carna safely bestowed in the centre of theparty, and had also seen that the person of the Pictish chief was secured(having the presence of mind to foresee that he would be a valuablehostage), he took up a position in the extreme rear of the retreat, andperformed prodigies of valour in keeping the pursuers at bay.

  The occupation of the fort could, of course, do nothing more than givethem a breathing space. Though it had been for some time unoccupied, itsdefences were tolerably perfect, and it might have been held against abarbarian enemy as long as provisions held out. Unfortunately this was theweak part of their position. Of provisions they had very little. Luckilythe place had latterly been used as a warehouse, and contained some sacksof flour. A few sheep were feeding in a meadow hard by, and were hastilydriven within the defences. Happily there was a well within the walls.

  That night was a dismal experience which none of the party ever forgot. Aconfused noise came up from the town, where the savages were busy withplunder and massacre. Every now and then some piercing shriek was heard,curdling the blood of all the listeners. At other times the loud crash ofsome falling building could be distinguished. Towards midnight flamescould be seen bursting out from various parts of the town, and before anhour had passed, every eye was fixed on a hideous spectacle, on which itwas an agony to look, but from which it yet seemed impossible to turn.Venta was on fire. The flames could be seen to catch street after street,and distinctly against the lurid background of the burning houses could beseen, flitting here and there, as they busied themselves with the work ofdestruction, the dark shapes of the barbarians. When the morning dawnedonly a few detached buildings, among them the church, a basilica of somesize, built by the munificence of the Empress Helena, were standing.

  The party in the fort reviewed their position anxiously. The civilianswere for the most part in favour of staying where they were. They felt thesubstantial protection of the stout walls which surrounded them, and wereindisposed to leave it. The military men, on the other hand, recognizedfacts more clearly and more completely. The protection of the fort wasworth this and this only--that it gave them time to reflect. To stand asiege would be to ensure destruction.

  "We must cut our way through," said the Count. "If we do not try it now weshall have to try it three or four days hence, and try it with lesscourage, and hope, and strength, and probably fewer men than we have now."

  "Cut our way through all those thousands of savages!" said the _Princeps_,who was one of the few who had escaped from the town. "No; we should befools to leave the shelter of these walls."

  "Shelter!" cried the old centurion; "will they shelter you against famine?No; let us go while we have strength to walk."

  "But how," said another of the townspeople, "how will you do all the threethings at once--retreat, and fight, and save the women? A few of the menmay get through, but it will be as much as they can do to take care ofthemselves."

  The argument was only too clear, and the Count turned away with a groan ofdespair. The prospect seemed hopeless. All the comfort that he could findwas in the thought that he and Carna should anyhow, not fall alive intothe hands of the barbarians.

  But now Cedric came again to the rescue with the happy thought which hadmade him carry off the Pictish chief. He said nothing to any of hiscompanions; but he managed the affair with the prisoner, and managed itwith an astonishing speed and success. He pointed to a party of thechief's fellow-countrymen who were approaching the fort, by way, itappeared, of reconnoitring its defences, and intimated that he wished toopen communications with them, showing at the same time, by holding up twoof his fingers, that not more than two were to approach. The chief, whoseintelligence was sharpened by a keen sense of his danger, by a shrillpiercing whistle, twice repeated, conveyed this intimation to hiscountrymen, and two of them approached to within speaking distance of thewalls. Cedric now addressed himself to the task of making his prisonerunderstand that his life and liberty depended upon his inducing hiscountrymen to retire. This was not very easily done. The expressivegestures of drawing a knife across the throat was readily understood; andat last by a pantomime of signs he was made to comprehend that this wouldbe the result, if his countrymen were to approach the walls. Then theother alternative was expressed. One of the bonds with which he wassecured was partially loosed, and this action was accompanied by asweeping gesture of the hand towards the north, which was to indicate thatthat must be their way, if he was to be freed. A light of comprehensiongradually dawned in the chief's eye, and the Saxon had little doubt thathe had made his meaning intelligible. Whether the man could be trusted tokeep the engagement was what neither he nor any one could say. But it wasclear that the risk had to be run, for the only possible hope of escapelay in this direction. A conversation followed between the chief and hiscountrymen, accompanied by signs which were intended to convey to theSaxon the purport of what he was saying. When it was over, theydisappeared, and the chief, turning to Cedric, raised his hands to the skyin a gesture which the latter interpreted, and rightly interpreted, tomean that he was calling the powers above to witness his fidelity to theengagement which he had made.

  Cedric then communicated the result of his negotiations through hisinterpreter the peddler to the Count. It was not received with unanimousapproval by the party in the fort. The _Princeps_ especially protestedloudly against trusting their lives to the good faith of a couple ofsavages. "A Pict and a Saxon!" he cried, "the worst enemies that Britainhas, and you think that they are going to save us!" He was quicklyoverruled by the Count, who let him understand quite plainly that he wouldbe left to shift for himself unless he availed himself of this chance ofescape.

  "Do as you please," was AElius's first utterance, "you have authority overthe fort, and if you choose to defend it with as many of your friends asyou can induce to stay with you, I cannot hinder you. But you must takethe consequences, and I haven't the shadow of a doubt what these will be.Meanwhile, I and my party mean to go. As for the Pict, I know nothing ofhim; the Saxon I would trust with my life, and what is far dearer to me,the life of my daughter. He has proved his good faith already in such away that I for one shall never doubt him again."

  Preparations for departure were hastily made. Indeed there was little toprepare. The party had simply nothing with them except their arms. Everyone had to walk--for food they had to trust to what they might find on theroad. But before they started the Count loosed with his own hand thechief's bonds. The chief put his hand upon his heart, and then lifted itto the sky with the same gesture of appeal that he made before.

  It is sufficient to say that he kept his word, for the party reached thecoast without molestation.