The very first people to arise with the dawn were the serving women, who lit the cooking fires in order to prepare a wheat porridge. Some men got up to eat breakfast. Most of the warriors were either hungover from the previous evening or simply too lazy to get up and eat. The lesser orders, such as women, children, and servants used this opportunity to eat their fill without having to contend with quarrelsome husbands, fathers, or masters.

After all who were hungry were served, the female servants cleaned up, while the male servants set up the ale barrels. By then, most of the warriors decided to awaken and partake of the same nourishment that had felled some of them the night before.

Chief Gida, the Saxon Ambassador, was a noteworthy exception. Gida paced about, occasionally facing toward the west, as if he was expecting company to appear from that direction.

King Offa, usually a man who awakened with the dawn, slept until early midmorning until King Angeltheow, no early riser himself, commanded a servant to awaken his father. King Angeltheow went outside the building where he shared sleeping quarters with his wife, infant son, twenty-five picked warriors of the new generation, and a few favored hounds. Angeltheow watched while a few warriors practiced their swordsmanship with each other. Meanwhile a few servants were picking up the benches from the night before and moving them to the sides of the raised thrones, clearing a large square fifty paces by fifty paces between the elevated thrones and the wooden bridge over the river. Spears were jabbed into the earth to mark off the location. The men engaged in armed horseplay gave the marked area a wide berth, as did everyone else once the area had been set aside.

A horse whinnied. A horseman appeared from the west. He rode from outside a clump of trees into the great meadow south of the bridge. Dismounting when he arrived on the outskirts of the campsites, he handed the reins to a servant. Ambassador Gida intercepted him and asked a question that the horseman answered. By his walk and the direction and means of his arrival, Angeltheow suspected who the rider was, a suspicion confirmed when the man walked across the bridge, followed by Chief Gida. The rider was Ailbric, who had been posted to announce visitors from the west.

Ailbric noticed King Angeltheow, and bowed a short bow that implied respect and an eagerness to report his findings.

"What is it, Ailbric?" Angeltheow asked.

"A number of Saxon notables along with two hundred retainers have decided to attend the festivities. They arrived at dawn today and are putting on their finery. What are my orders concerning this matter, King Angeltheow?"

"What are the names of these notables?"

"Prince Brond is the most notable."

"Who?" asked Angeltheow.

"Prince Brond. He is one of King Wig's sons. The Saxons obviously don't want to send anyone important, so they chose not to send Wig's oldest son Prince GiWis. They sent one of King Wig's expendable sons."

Gida, seeing which way the wind was beginning to blow and obviously not liking it one bit, chose to interrupt before his interests and duties were compromised. "Excuse me, King Angeltheow."

Angeltheow coolly glanced at Gida. Angeltheow had a reputation as a man who said nothing while allowing a man enough rope to hang himself.

"King Wig doesn't think that any one of his sons is expendable. I am sure the question of expendability won't come up. Surely you wouldn't hold a prince hostage?" Gida asked, not pausing for an answer. "King Wig and his oldest son can't be expected to brave the sea or travel while they have affairs of state to attend to. Besides, a number of notables were commanded to attend your ascension to the throne."

"Such as?" Angeltheow asked in a dry tone of voice.

"King Leustan of the Hostengawi, King Ingefrid of the Rosogawi, and Prince Beort of the Wroenas were invited to attend . . ."

"So they are here?"

"I am not certain that they have arrived, sir. I haven't had the opportunity to talk to your knight."

"Then perhaps you won't mind stepping back so that we both can find out who has indeed arrived. Unless you believe that you have the right to interrogate my officer first," Angeltheow said, dryly.

Gida made a wry face. This conversation was headed down like a gut-shot dragon with an arrow piercing a soft spot in its armor. "No, my Lord," he said, stepping back a pace.

Ailbric continued his report. "Those people that Ambassador Gida mentioned have arrived. They brought two hundred troops in four ships. They beached the ships next to King Wihtgils's ships. I await your orders, King Angeltheow."

"The Lay of King Offa begins at noon. If they wish anything to eat and drink before then, it is up to them to arrive before that time." Angeltheow thought for a minute. "Ailbric, take a fresh horse, and tell the Saxons to hurry. What they might hear today might redden their ears. All the more reason that they should have a chance to enjoy our hospitality."

"Yes, King Angeltheow. Should I report to King Offa?" Ailbric asked.

"No. I will inform my father that our Saxon guests have decided to come. Dismissed."

Ailbric turned to leave. Gida decided that the dismissal was in effect for himself as well, so he left also. There was little use in talking to a king like Angeltheow if you had nothing to say that he might wish to hear.

Angeltheow watched the two men leave, then he went over to his father's hall to see if the servant had gotten the old man up. King Offa was eating wheat porridge amply mixed with milk from a large clay bowl. Offa was drinking water from a silver tankard that usually contained beer in the afternoon.

"Good morning, Father," Angeltheow said. "It will be a nice day, without rain, for what we will do today."

King Offa glanced up at his son. "Yes," he said. "It should be a good day. I am both happy and sad that this day has arrived. Happy that my time of rest has arrived. Sad that the end of an age has come. I wonder," Offa mused as he glanced at the gruel in his food bowl, "why we associate the end with our deaths rather than the births of those who will replace us. I haven't served as long as my father did before me. He served as king until he was blind. But he wasn't as confident in his successor as I have been with mine." Offa glanced back up at his son. "Have you already eaten?" he asked, ready to summon a servant to feed his son.

"Yes, Father," Angeltheow said as he seated himself at the table. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Deeply, after I heard another tale from that sharp knife of a man, Eldred. I will have to tell you sometime what he told me in confidence last night."

"I can't believe you haven't hung that old rascal, Father, for what he said last night. He should have known better."

"I won't hang a man for telling me the truth, as long as he isn't insolent. Any king that kills a man for straight speech deserves to be surrounded by liars and lackeys." Offa spooned some gruel into his mouth. "I don't think Eldred went too far last night, though he did get rather close to the fence like an old heifer stretching her neck for fresh leaves. He will behave himself today. With luck, perhaps the Saxons will be here today so that Eldred can sweepingly insult outsiders with the edge of his sword tongue rather than needle his king with the point."

Angeltheow didn't agree with what his father said concerning Eldred, though he had a great respect for his father's opinion. Angeltheow proceeded upon the conversational track regarding Saxons.

"That is what I came to tell you, Father," Angeltheow said. "Ailbric reported that the Saxons have arrived at Sorgemouth. A Saxon prince has arrived, a little one, although the leading chieftains of the Saxon Confederation seem to have come as well."

"They come for gain. They want back what they lost upon my ascension to the throne." Offa got to the bottom of the bowl. He placed a finger along his gums to chase away some wheat chaff that had been trapped next to his cheeks. Offa still had most of his teeth, although most people couldn't tell, since they were worn nearly to the gums. "Whether you wish to give it back depends upon you, my son. Doubtless Chief Gida, another rascal that your aged father neglected to hang, told them that it would be best to come and beg their cousins to forgive and forget." Offa sipped some water from his tankard.

"They won't get what they want. We will keep our Saxon cousins where they belong, to the south of us. They don't have the military muscle to dispute our claim to the southern marches," Angeltheow said while he looked anxiously at his father's face. Like most sons of great men, he had always longed to live outside his father's shadow, to be his own man, and yet he always sought his father's approval. He still couldn't believe that his father was entrusting his kingdom to him even though the purpose of the last five years of co-rulership had been to prepare Angeltheow for sole kingship.

"That will be your decision, son," King Offa said. "After today I am merely one of your subjects. I will be happy to give you my advice if asked. The reason that I am giving up the throne today is because I am tired, but more importantly, it is your time to rule this nation. I wanted you to rule while you are still young and strong, able to recover from the mistakes you will make as a ruler."

"Do you think that I should give the southern marches that you won as a young man back to the Saxons?" Angeltheow asked.

"No. The Saxons lost those lands because they deserved to lose them. Besides, we will look weak if we give those lands back. Present a strong face to outsiders and a just face to your own people and you will have a long, secure reign, son." Offa changed the subject. "I suppose that I had best take my bath now."

"Of course, sir. May you have a good day today, Father," Angeltheow said as he got up from his father's breakfast table.

"As may you, my son." Offa turned around. "Ordgar!" Offa said, summoning one of his pages, "Have the serving women prepare my bath."

Angeltheow left his father's house as some serving women bustled about, taking a huge old beer barrel that had been sawn in two to make a small tub from its place against the wall. Offa had some peculiar notions about cleanliness, often wanting to take a bath more often than the once per week dip in the river when ice wasn't on. While Offa never commented upon any smells arising due to the habitual unwashedness of his subjects, he himself was as clean as a cat most of the time. When Offa was younger, he had had nothing against his nakedness being on display while bathing with his warriors in a river. Now that he was older, with stringy muscles and age-withered loins, he preferred to be left with his dignity intact, so he would bathe in relative privacy behind a curtain in his great hall. The serving women had been alerted the day before that King Offa desired a hot bath today, so water had been heated while he ate breakfast.

Hengist and Horsa had been fed with the women and children that morning. Upon awakening, they wanted to play with the children that were in the nearby camps, but their mother insisted that they eat with the family excepting Wihtgils, who remained sleeping under the blanket that he shared with his wife. Aelfwine roused her children and the servants who slept in the middle of the Jutish camp, shushing anyone who threatened to make a noise that might wake up the warriors.

After breakfast, Hengist and Horsa quickly made friends with some male children their own age and proceeded to play soldier, dueling with some long weeds that were stripped of leaves. The rules were simple: no one was supposed to hit at the face for fear of poking out an eye and having the adults end the game. Woe betide anyone who yelped in pain, ran away, or even worse, cried tears of frustration or anger! The malefactor was liable to be called a "pussy" and not allowed to play anymore. While the rules were unwritten, they were scrupulously enforced. Since all those who were allowed to play were the sons of warriors, they had gotten a rough, but extensive vocabulary at an early age.

Hengist was enjoying himself immensely, although he soon received a good welt on his right shoulder from a larger boy, which he paid back by a quick counterslash across the neck. There arose a spirited argument as to whether a "dead" man could chop off an enemy's head or not, but the judges, some older boys around eleven years old, ruled in Hengist's favor. The young boys were stripped to the loincloth, so that any welts received could be worn as badges of honor. Also, it was deemed more realistic. Most of the boys had seen the scars that their fathers bore, the results of ring armor cuts where a sword had been turned or had not fully penetrated a mail shirt. They wished to emulate their fathers. Also, the marks helped keep track of whether the young soldier was "dead" or merely wounded, putting an end to quarrels so that there would be more time for fighting.

Hengist, Horsa, other children of visiting chieftains, plus a few Angle children of lower status were put on the side of the "Saxons," opposing most of the children of King Angeltheow's warriors who were on the "Angle" side. Most years the Angle side won since they were on home ground. This year was no exception. After two "wars" were won by the Angle side, there were some individual duels allowed between champions of the two sides.

In these duels Hengist acquitted himself well, defeating all of the opposing five- and six-year-olds until he killed and was killed by a seven year old. The next match pitted Hengist against an eight year old, which match Hengist lost due to a poke in the heart. Hengist's tally was five wins, one draw, and a loss. Horsa, an inch shorter and five pounds lighter than his brother, won four matches and lost two. Then the champions of the individual duels were sorted out evenly among the armies and another series of wars began.

The children were having a fine time until the grown warriors came over and ruined their fun. While most of the warriors didn't mean to spoil their offspring's warplay, remembering the fun that they had had as pups with their first milk teeth, some of them were drunk and a sense of partisanship was infused from the sidelines. The children were beginning to wish that they could stop performing under their fathers' scrutiny. When King Offa began to walk to his throne, followed by King Angeltheow, the "sword fights" were discontinued and fathers and sons went to where a crowd had gathered on both sides of the throne dais and around the patch marked off by spears.

King Offa climbed up the stairs and sat down upon the pillow placed by a thoughtful page. King Angeltheow then sat upon his throne. Eldred came out of the crowd and stood in the middle of the dueling patch marked off by spears. He stood in the place where his fire had blazed the night before. The ashes had been cleared away by servants.

"Hear ye! Hear ye! King Offa awaits those who serve him to reaffirm their loyalty. Let all who respect and fear the might of their king pledge their support, from highest to lowest," Eldred spoke in a piercing voice that clearly carried to the hushed crowd.

King Offa then drew his sword from the scabbard and placed the point downward upon the floor of the step in front of his throne. A murmur came over the crowd, for the sword that King Offa had drawn for the day was none other than Skrep the Sharp, a famous sword of great antiquity whose finest champion was none other than the young King Offa.

No one knew how old Skrep was. It was rumored that Skrep was old when King Sceaf was drawn from the water. No German smith forged this blade, rather it was the work of a Celtic smith who had tempered the blade when the earth was young. The sword had no point, rather it was a slashing sword, meant to lop off arms, legs, heads. It would hold such a sharp edge that it could cut chainmail like the rings were made of wood, thus a point wasn't necessary on the old blade. Nearly three feet of age-blackened, double-edged steel dully gleamed from point to hilt, but no real hilt did the sword have, rather a age-grayed bronze clip that wrapped around the blade, followed by a small bronze disc around the tang of the sword. The grip of the sword was bone --human??-- kept in place by gold wire. Skrep's pommel was a big iron ball. Skrep's edges had quite a few nicks on it, the result of many a clash with opposing swords raised or brought down in defense or aggression, but Skrep was a survivor; no other sword was reputed as old. This legendary sword was a source of pride to the Angles, a cause of sorrow for the Saxons.

King Wihtgils, as Offa's relative and King of the Jutes and the most powerful of King Offa's subjects, was the first to swear allegiance. Wihtgils entered the dueling square from the side opposite the thrones, climbed the stairs, then knelt before King Offa. Wihtgils's right hand grasped the blade underneath the bronze clip, risking a cut on the sharp blade. Wihtgil's left hand rested on Offa's bare right knee. Offa was wearing a one-piece suit of clothing, compatible with his mail byrnie that went down to mid-thigh and that ended with it as well. Offa's leggings were wrapped around his legs well short of his knee. Although the day was going to be a warm one, since Offa hadn't learned the feminine trait of keeping his legs crossed and since he would be seated at eye level of most of the crowd, Offa had elected to wear underwear. Most of the leading men in the crowd were dressed as Offa was except for the underwear.

"Do you swear to obey and support the King of the Anglican Confederation?" Offa asked in a loud voice while he moved his right hand forward for Wihtgils to kiss.

"I so swear!" Wihtgils affirmed. Then he kissed the ring on Offa's hand.

"Then go, and do as you have sworn, King Wihtgils," Offa responded.

Wihtgils backed away a stair from his overlord, straightening up only when his head was below his king. He bowed again before King Offa, then sharply turned around and walked through the dueling ground. The governor of Zealand was next. He followed King Wihtgils's example as did the rest of King Offa's sworn men. The next half hour was occupied by a steady line of the various chieftains important enough to have the privilege of swearing directly to King Offa.

There were five remaining chieftains needing to swear allegiance when a horn sounded in the woods bordering the meadow south of Fifelder island. All heard the horn, but King Offa unhurriedly kept on accepting the allegiance of his lesser chieftains. By the time that the last one had sworn fealty, the Saxon host had left the woods, led by Chief Gida and a young man of approximately eighteen years wearing a mail shirt with silver rings and carrying a shield bearing the emblem of the Overking of the Saxon Confederation. The Saxon host would have crossed the bridge and taken places south of the dueling field if Wihtgils hadn't stood in the middle of the bridge and gestured Chief Gida to halt. The Saxon force stopped before the leading men set foot on the bridge.

"Eldred! Introduce our guests. The ones that had good sense to arrive early first," King Offa said, not caring a whit if the Saxons were insulted.

Eldred, who allegedly liked Saxons only a hair's-breadth more than stray dogs, acted happy to comply. Six Danish chieftains and heroes were introduced, as were four Geats, two Swedes, and a minor subchief from far-off Norway.

After the visitors had a chance to speak a short piece pertaining to who they were, King Offa asked aloud, "And who do we have here?" Offa gestured toward the Saxons, still waiting for permission to cross the bridge.

Eldred broke in before Chief Gida had a chance to speak. "I think that they are Saxons. I don't know very many Saxons, and the ones that I do know are rascals," Eldred said, shooting a sharp glance at Chief Gida. "Since I don't have anything good to say about Saxons, perhaps it would be best, King Offa, if they introduced themselves." Eldred moved off to the side.

"Chief Gida may introduce his countrymen," King Offa said.

He motioned Wihtgils to let the Saxons pass. Wihtgils turned and walked away into the Jutish crowd that had moved to the east side of the dueling field, leaving room for the Saxons to advance to the south of the spear-fenced square opposite the Anglican kings' thrones.

"After Chief Gida has introduced his countrymen, we will adjourn until noon, when the festivities will recommence. All, be they subject or stranger, are invited to share in my hospitality," King Offa said.

Chief Gida stepped forward.

"My masters and peers have decided to enjoy your hospitality, King Offa. So here we are." Gida motioned forward the young man in the silver-gilded armor who had walked by his side. The young man stepped forward. "This is Prince Brond, third son of King Wig. King Wig and Crown Prince GiWis couldn't be here today due to pressing business at home."

Prince Brond nodded at King Offa. King Offa nodded back.

"King Wig, since he was not able to attend, commanded these other notables of his realm to attend," Gida continued as three men stepped forward from the ranks behind him and stood together several paces behind Gida and Prince Brond. "King Leustan of the Hostengawi," Gida said, pointing to a middle-aged, red-haired and bearded man with blue eyes wearing a well-used, gray, mail byrnie and businesslike sword belt and scabbard.

As King Leustan's left hand was holding his shield, King Leustan nodded at King Offa while his right hand opened in greeting, showing one and all that since there was no weapon in it he had come in peace.

"King Ingefrid of the Hostengawi," Gida said as a blond-haired and blue-eyed thirty- year-old repeated King Leustan's gestures.

"And Prince Beort of the Wroenas." Prince Beort, a young twenty-three-year-old man with brown hair and hazel eyes, emulated his peers.

"I am honored," said King Offa. "Now let us adjourn until noon."

The Saxons crossed the bridge and walked around the staked-off dueling field. After a wary moment of measuring up on both sides, the Saxons mixed with the Angle crowd around the cooking fires and beer vats. Servants started putting up benches for the Saxons to sit upon across the open square from the raised thrones. Chief Gida and Prince Brond walked around the square and engaged King Offa in polite, but trifling conversation. After excusing himself, King Offa stepped down from his throne and wandered around the crowd, helping himself to a bit of roast meat here, a tankard of beer there. King Angeltheow went over to talk to the Saxon chieftains. He had met Leustan and Ingefrid before, although Beort was closer to his own age.

A little over an hour had passed and the trees cast no shadows past their limbs when King Offa began walking back towards his throne, followed by his son. Noon, the appointed hour, had arrived.

The leading Saxons took their seats. If they had been seated in a hall, the places opposite the king would have been places of honor, but since the Saxons were seated across the dueling square from King Offa, it signified that they were adversaries of the old king. King Wihtgils's bench was on the east side of the dueling square, on King Offa's left side. Hengist and Horsa were seated with their father. Other allied notables were seated on the same side as Wihtgils. Visiting dignitaries were seated to the southeast, between the Jutes on the east and the Saxons to the south. Angles were seated on the west side of the dueling square, to King Offa's right. Ordinary men-at-arms, women, servants, and others of lower status stood or sat on the ground behind the betters of their nationality.

Eldred walked into the middle of the square marked off by spears, then waited for the crowd to hush.

"King Offa, King Angeltheow, People of the Anglican Convention, Honored Guests, . . . . Saxons," Eldred said in a voice of normal loudness that carried surprisingly well. Eldred deliberately separated the Saxons from the honored guests and most in the audience garnered the distinction; the Angles grinned, a few of the Saxons glowered.

"Last night I talked about the origins and traditions of the Angle people up until the time of King Offa's grandfather, King Wihtlaeg. Now is the time to retell a story about the finest moment in the life of our greatest king and most noble warrior, the man whose generous and unstinting hospitality we share. I am talking about King Offa," Eldred said, nodding at the old man seated on the throne.

King Offa merely glanced back at Eldred. Having nothing to say, Offa did what he normally did in such a situation; he said nothing.

Eldred began, "When King Wihtlaeg died, he left the Angle throne to his oldest son, Prince Waermund. King Wihtlaeg had placed another son upon the Jutish throne so as to make sure that the royal houses of the Angles and the Jutes were the same. Now the two peoples were joined politically.

"There is another people related to us Angles. They also are here with us today." Eldred glanced to the south. "I am talking about the Saxons. Let me say for the record that the Saxons and Angles are close cousins. We speak the same language, worship some of the same gods. Angles and Saxons have always lived close together. We are like twins joined by the same birthcord to the same mother. But like brothers who share the same goals and aspirations but who forget the ties of kinship or deem them unimportant, we have had our share of conflicts. Like members of a clan, Angles and Saxons have fought among themselves while presenting a united face to outsiders. These wars are not quite civil wars, Angles and Saxons are different peoples, but they have occurred frequently. Altogether too often, these wars concern border territory that lie between the two peoples and are indulged in by the leaders, not the common people of the two tribes."

Then Eldred proceeded telling the Lay of King Offa, an oral tradition laid down by Eldred's father and perfected by Eldred himself.


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