It had been
a terrible battle, from their account, but they knew little more
than that, and that they were beaten. I suppose that Ina thought it
best for us to hold this camp for the night, for here we bided,
chafing somewhat; and but for what we took from the Welsh, hungry,
until early morning. Then at last a mounted messenger came to us,
and we went to Norton.
There, indeed, was high praise waiting for us from Ina, for it
seemed that our work had checked the advance of Gerent, and had
given time for full gathering of the levies before he was over the
border. But now I learnt that there was another Welsh army in the
field, beyond the Tone River, and until we heard how it fared with
the Dorset levies in that direction it was doubtful if we might
hold that all was well yet. Gerent had not set everything on this
one attack, but had also marched on Langport across the Blackdown
hills. Thither Nunna had led what men he could be spared, and was
to meet the Dorset levies, whose ealdorman, Sigebald, had sent word
to Glastonbury, soon after I left there, to tell of this attack.
In the late evening there were beacon fires on the Blackdown hills,
and a great one on the camp at Neroche which crowns and guards the
hills in that direction. And so presently through the dusk one rode
into Norton with word of the greatest battle that Wessex had fought
since men could remember, for Nunna had met the foe on the way to
Langport, and at last, after a mighty struggle which had long
seemed doubtful, had swept them back across the hills whence they
came, in full flight homeward.
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