One of the peasant men stumbled and fell. Edgar saw that he had floury white streaks in his dark beard: he was Wilmund the baker, and the two with him were his wife, Regenhild, and their son, Penda, now nineteen and taller than ever.

Regenhild stopped and turned to help Wilmund. As Bada raised his sword she flew at him, weaponless, her hands extended to scratch his face. He swung his sword through the air uselessly and pushed her away with his left hand, raising his right to strike at Wilmund again.

Then Penda intervened. He picked up a rock the size of a fist and hurled it. It hit Bada in the chest, hard enough to throw him off balance so that his second sword stroke also went wild.

The raft drew level with the fighters.

Edgar was full of fear, and desperate to get away, but he could not watch and do nothing while people he knew were murdered. He dropped his pole, leaped from the raft to the bank of the canal, and drew his iron-headed hammer from his belt.

Wilmund got to his knees. Bada thrust with his sword and this time hit his target, though obliquely. His point entered the soft part of Wilmund’s thigh, next to the hip, and went in deep. Regenhild screamed and knelt beside her husband. Bada lifted his weapon to dispatch her.

Edgar ran at him, hammer raised high, and hit him with all his might.

At the last moment Bada moved to the left, and Edgar’s hammer landed on his shoulder. There was an audible snap as a bone broke. Bada roared with pain. His right arm went limp and his sword fell from his hand. He dropped to the ground, groaning.

But Bada was not alone. Pounding steps from the village alerted Edgar. He looked back to see another man-at-arms approaching. It was Stiggy.

Regenhild and Penda got Wilmund to his feet. He was crying out in agony but he managed to put one foot in front of the other and the three of them staggered away. Stiggy ignored the helpless peasants and headed for Edgar, who with his hammer in his hand was evidently the one who had wounded Stiggy’s comrade Bada. Edgar knew he was only moments away from death.

He turned and dashed toward the canal. The raft had drifted several yards. He heard running steps behind him. Reaching the edge he leaped through the air and landed on the stones.

Turning back, he saw the baker’s family disappear into the houses. They were safe, at least for now.

He saw Stiggy picking up rocks from the ground.

Fighting down panic he lay flat, sticking his hammer into his belt, and rolled into the water on the far side of the raft just as a large rock flew over his head. Brindle jumped into the water alongside him.

He grabbed the side of the raft with one hand and ducked his head. He heard a series of thuds and guessed that Stiggy’s rocks were hitting the quarry stones. He heard Buttress’s hooves stamp, and hoped his pony would not be hurt.