Alban fell upon his
death, but was now altogether ravaged and destroyed of the heathen.
Octa had led his people to the city, and seized thereon, making fast
the gates. The king sat down without the town. He caused great engines
to be arrayed to break through the wall, but it was very strong, and
he might make no breach. Octa and his friends made merry over the
catapults set over against them. On a morning they opened wide their
gates, and came forth to do battle with the king. A vile matter it
seemed to them that the door should be locked and barred because of
a king lying sick within a litter. They could not endure to be so
despised that he should fight against them from his coffin. As I deem
their pride went before a fall. That captain won who was deserving of
the victory. The heathen were defeated, and in that battle Octa and
his fair cousin Ossa were slain.
[Footnote 1: St. Albans.]
Many who escaped from the field fled into Scotland. There they made
Colgrin their chieftain, who was a friend of Octa and his cousin.
Uther rejoiced so greatly by reason of his victory, and of the honour
God had shown him, that for sheer joy he was as a man healed and
altogether whole. He set himself to hearten his barons, and inspire
them with his own courage.
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