LIIArtorius lay back in his chair while the doctors put healing ointments on his wound and bound it up. His captains, such as were left of them, sat about him, for they were so tired that he could not bear to have them standing, tottering with fatigue.
He was grave, for this battle of Mons Badonicus had cost the Cymry two thousand men and horses. Bedwyr tried to console him by reporting that the Saxon losses were more than twice that number. And that was only on the battlefield, said Bedwyr. God only knew what their further losses had been in the rounding-up when the fighting was over, for the Cymry were relentless, and each one had a comrade to avenge when all was over.
“Cerdic will be lucky if he has four thousand left, out of the host that climbed the hill yesterday,” said a captain.
