The two armies at last disengaged. The Northmen withdrew into the fortress of Ratworth, taking advantage of the steep terrain and solid walls to fortify their position. On the other side, the forces of Wessex fell back fifteen miles to the south, where they encamped upon the vast grounds of a noble estate.
Though the Viking host had not been utterly broken, the sight of the Frankish cavalry cleaving twice through their ranks filled the Wessex camp with triumph. Four hundred riders — and no more — had shattered over a thousand raiders, cut a path through the encircling foe, and emerged bloodied but alive. It was a victory such as men would speak of for generations. To honor their valor, King Æthelwulf decreed a feast for these foreign knights, whose arms had turned the tide.
At the long table, gazing down at the young warriors below, the old king's heart was full of thoughts both solemn and exultant.
