The last proposal was universally discouraged. Redwald had already special cause of enmity against Father Cuthbert, who had robbed him of part of his destined prey; and it was ultimately settled that Father Swithin, another of the order, should be charged with the mission, with the power to make conciliatory offers, or to act on the other course as he should see fit; in short, to use all his wit for Elfric. Alfred did not delay a moment unnecessarily, but in the dawning light set forward to seek Edgar, of whom he had no definite information, but who was believed to linger in the neighbourhood of the battlefield, holding council with earls and thanes as to the further steps to be taken, and receiving the submission of the whole Mercian, East Anglian, and Northumbrian nobility. Therefore, mounted upon a good steed, and accompanied by Oswy, he rapidly traversed the country over which his brother had been so painfully borne; slowly, however, in places, for here and there large tracts of swamp obstructed the way, and in other places the thickets were dense and impervious; even where the country was cultivated the unpaved roads were rough and hazardous for riders. It was past the hour of nones, the ninth hour of the day, when the riders reached the battlefield, which still bore frightful traces of the recent combat; reddened with blood, which had left its dark traces on large patches of the ground, and encumbered with the bodies of horses and men which had not yet found sepulture, although bands of theows from the neighbouring estates were busily engaged in the necessary toil, excavating huge pits, and placing the dead—no longer rivals—reverently and decently in their last long home. Several wolves could be discerned, hanging about under the skirts of the forest, but not daring to come out into the plain while the day lasted and the men were about; whole flocks of ravenous birds flew about the scene, now settling down on the spots where the strife had been hottest, now soaring away when disturbed in their sickening feast. It was the first time Alfred had ever gazed upon a battlefield; and now he saw it stripped of all the romance and glamour which bards had thrown over it, and the sight appalled him. He drew near a large pit into which the thralls were casting the dead. Many of the bodies presented, as we have already seen, a most ghastly spectacle; and nearly all had begun to decompose. Mentally he thanked God that Elfric, at least, was not there; and he turned aside his head in horror at the sight. He now inquired of the foreman of the labourers whether he knew where the Etheling Edgar would be. “You mean King Edgar, for the Mercians will acknowledge no other king. The people of Wessex may keep the enemy of the saints, if they like.” “King Edgar, I mean. Where is he now?”