"The Battle for Spalding" from An Involuntary King: A Tale of Anglo Saxon England

Excerpt from An Involuntary King: A Tale of Anglo Saxon England by Nan Hawthorne -- get it now at http://www.shield-wall.com .

Lawrence watched the sky to the east. As he saw the rays of the morning sun break through scattered clouds, he signaled to a man on the crest of the bridge to light a torch with his flint and tinder, knowing that as soon as he saw it, Athelwick would send his soldiers forward onto the ships. Lawrence himself turned to face the camp and stepped forward, signaling the lines of the shield-wall to do so as well, creating a wedge of destruction.

The shield-wall pushed forward as one. When the men in the camp who were awake looked in the direction of the noise of men bearing down on them they saw a solid wall of painted ash bristling with spears and other weapons moving inexorably forward. Their own shouts of warning woke the sleeping men, who hardly had a chance to leap up and grab helms and weapons before the wall was just a few feet away. They had no time to form a defensive wall of their own. The king’s men came forward, repositioning to skirt tents, regrouping to form a circle around each one before investigating whether there were men inside. When the tent proved vacant or the men within were killed, these same men from the shield-wall melded back in behind those who had stepped beyond. Those soldiers stepped over campfires deftly, engaging and cutting down any man whom they encountered. Soon they were stepping over the wounded and dead.

The resistance was fierce once the king’s shield-wall had reached into the camp. The men there had more warning and therefore a chance to get ready for them. Lawrence was in the front line of the wall, his shield up and the man behind him holding his own shield over the king’s head to protect him. When a spear came forward, glanced off the king's shield, it stabbed behind him, and he felt the shield over him slip back and down and heard the man cry out. With little delay, another shield was above him and another man behind him.

Lawrence kept his seaxa ready to attack his enemies and to go to the aid of the men on either side of him. A man bearing down on him with an axe cried out as Lawrence’s right-hand companion thrust forward with his own seaxa, dispatching the attacker before his axe even struck the king’s shield. Minutes later, the king returned the favor as a tall man bore down on his defender with a long sword. Lawrence bent quickly to thrust his blade under the man’s shield and into his groin.

The wall kept moving irresistibly forward, taking blows from and cutting down the enemy. Lawrence was almost through the camp when he met a foe in better armor and better armed. He did not know the face, but it was clear this man was one of the leaders of the challenge to his crown. The king made a sound that started out as a growl and amplified to a roar of rage as he attacked the man savagely, almost stepping out of the shield-wall. The man tottered back and fell over a comrade on the ground. Lawrence and the two men on either side of him closed in and made short work of the prone commander.

Though men streamed in from the flank of the camp in a seemingly never-ending flow, the smell of blood and men’s guts was a palpable mass surrounding the king. The bodies piled up enough to become barriers. When they saw their dead far outnumbered the remaining force, the hapless enemy threw down their weapons and waited for death or capture. They could see astonished faces atop the town of Spalding’s palisade walls in the full morning light.