The Eyes of Exeter

Looking up from below, Tostig saw the rows of heads appear on the top of the wall. He knew the hour must be nearly up. He also knew that the gates would not be opened to the King. In addition, he was convinced; he had but moments to live. He was quite sure now, that the demonstration would be his execution; a show designed to force the citizens of Exeter to give in, to surrender to him completely. He had also seen enough of the King, to know that if he was about to die, it would not be quick or painless. He felt sick in the pit of his stomach. It was all he could do to hold himself together. The desire to give in to terror and cry out was almost overwhelming. Ironically, the faces of his fellow Saxons watching him provided him with just enough strength to maintain some semblance of dignity. He had to show strength. He had to show them that they could also hold out against the King; that they could survive, whatever evil he brought down on them. Perhaps his own fate would in some way give his fellow citizens of Exeter some hope, or at least stubbornness; at any rate, enough to keep going without him. He had confidence in them. They would hold on. They would yet triumph. The thoughts brought some inner strength to keep him going. Tostig knew Saxons. He knew with complete certainty, that whatever the King did to him, it would only make them resist with greater resolution. Now, when his hour was nearly up, Tostig found himself more concerned about the fate of the citizens of Exeter, than his own. He knew he was going to die. He had not been offered the services of a priest, so he had taken a few moments to make his peace with God. Now his thoughts were for Eadythe, especially. How would she cope? The Bishop had said that he would look after her; that was comforting. But poor Eadythe, she would not manage. He was convinced that she wouldn’t cope on her own. And the people? Would they continue to resist? Would they resist until all the food and water were gone? He knew that they would want to, desperately. To the bitter end? Then what? He felt sure that they would resist that long, but after that what would they do? Would they give in at last? He wouldn’t blame them if they did. It would be doubly hard for them to watch the slow and painful death of their loved ones. What would the King do to them? Had he already planned another demonstration? Did he really mean that they were worth more to him alive than dead? Or would he treat them as he himself was about to be treated? Of course he would never know! Suddenly the King emerged from his tent. He stood, staring up at the walls of the city. He seemed to grow taller as he stood in front of the whole city. He was in control. He was forcing the Saxons to his will. He was clearly deriving satisfaction and pleasure from the situation. Even Tostig, in his rising panic and growing terror, could see the excitement etched in the King’s features. Tostig did not know what to expect, other than pain and then death; but whether the King would lecture the Saxon people on the walls first, he did not know. Personally, he hoped he’d just get on with it; get it over. The King perhaps sensed Tostig’s thoughts. He turned and appeared about to speak, but did not. He had satisfied himself that the people on the walls could see exactly what was happening. All he did was click his fingers and stand still, watching. Immediately, the four soldiers rushed forwards and grabbed Tostig, one to each arm, one to each leg. He struggled for all he was worth. Despite everything, he was not going to go meekly and without some show of resistance. However, with four of them holding him, his resistance and struggles were worth nothing. They stretched him out on the ground, in a position which all could see. Then to a deathly silence, the man at the brazier extracted the iron bar from the fire, with a pair of tongs. He carried it over to Tostig and positioned himself behind the prostrate form and held the still glowing iron aloft. All the Saxons on the wall could see what was happening. There were many gasps; many faces turned away. The iron bar glowed brightly against the dark of the ground and forest background. The sky too was black. The whole Saxon world was this day black. The moment was but brief, but to Tostig it was endless.