The Day of Vengeance

It was a gusty morning in early summer, i remember it well, and most of the men were from the villages hunting. When away towards the coast, went up the brightening sky, a thin curl of smoke followed by another and another. The sight was understood only too well. And as the sea was far behind them, the despoilers but showed themselves on the fringe of the open exchanged a javelin or two and turned hot on their track. We went after them, over the scrubby open ground and down through the tangles of oak and hazel. But each time we came on again. Truly, that was an hour of victory. And the britons