After they had made
an end of prayer, they took their arms, and stole down the hillside to
the valley. The Britons came amongst the pagans lying naked upon the
ground, and fast in sleep. The swordplay was right merry, for the
slaughter was very great. The Britons thrust their glaives deep in the
breasts of the foe. They lopped heads and feet and wrists from their
bodies. The Britons ranged like lions amongst their enemies. They were
as lions a-hungered for their prey, killing ewes and lambs, and all
the sheep of the flock, whether small or great. Thus the Britons
did, for they spared neither spearman nor captain. The heathen were
altogether dismayed. They were yet heavy with sleep, and could neither
get to their harness, nor flee from the field. No mercy was shown them
for all their nakedness. Armed or naked the sword was thrust through
their breast or heart or bowels. In that place the heathen perished
from the land, since the Christians destroyed them utterly. Octa and
Ossa, the lords of their host--these troublers of Britain--were taken
alive. They were led to London, and set fast in a strong prison, bound
in iron. If any of their fellows escaped from the battle, it was only
by reason of the blackness of the night.
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