Near the River Saefern, 726 AD
The king surveyed the bustling arrangements of camp pitching with little enthusiasm. His bones ached from the permanent jostling of travel in the saddle. Resentment for other matters enforced on him worsened his mood. Principal among them, the constraint of heading for Powys at the behest of his old friend Coelwald. How could he refuse him in such a moment of peril? Since crossing the borders of Mierce, Æthelbald issued proclamations that brought warriors hastening to swell the ranks of his company, so the mass of men before his eyes elicited a grunt of satisfaction. His entourage had taken on the aspect of a small army, and given they would pass through Magon, there was every prospect of increasing his numbers to form a sizeable host.
Another issue preoccu
