In a moment of time he became chief and leader of all about him. Not, as it were, of his own free will, but of some power that emanated from him--mysterious--intoxicating. All flocked towards him. The popular cries of Cunedda and Kymry were yoked with those of Cormac and The Black Horse. Men’s hearts kindled anew--Bret and Pict and Scot vowed brotherhood for aye! But when they went forth, it was to confront rumour of battle instead of battle itself! The wild alarm that two bodies of Saxons were closing upon the Fair, had arisen at the news that two bands of men, in the darkness, were approaching on either side. Panic often seized the people, at the least cause, since that fearful day when the Saxons had burst on the southern plain like an angry sea; and, beating around the walls of Sarum, had at length overcome the mighty fortress. The approaching men proved to be serfs and herdsmen of Celtic race; but they were the bearers of ill tidings. From two directions came the grave news that the Roman city, Viriconium, had fallen into the hands of the Saxons, under the two dread brothers--Cutha and Ceawlin; that its inhabitants had been put to the sword, and its buildings to the flame. The awful tidings seemed to inspire Cormac with new hope and courage. “To the South!” he cried. “To the Saxons!” CHAPTER XV. THE BLACK HORSE. Cutha was slain! The Saxons were defeated! These were the magic words that men were repeating to each other. Cutha was slain, the Saxons were defeated--these were the two first acts of the Black Horse--cried the followers of Cormac; the rest would follow, and Britain would soon be again in the hands of its own people. Cormac’s great army settled down to rest and make merry in the peaceful valley of the Severn. His soldiers recked not that they were shut off from retreat by hill and forest; that they were dangerously easy of access to the West Saxons, and to those fierce Angles--the men of the Merce. South-south-east they had journeyed. They had swept, triumphantly, across the land as though the victories they sang of were already behind them. Their leader, they said, was to take all before him and drive the Saxons from the shores. Revenge was to be taken at last on the Jutish conquerors who had been the first of the savage stock to set foot in Britain; the two brothers bearing the strange titles signifying the Horse and the Mare--Hengist and Horsa, who had left the emblem of the White Horse as a sign of conquest. But it was the Black Horse now against the White. On all sides the emblem of a black steed was displayed--on samite, and on coarse flax, and hemp; this was to put utterly to shame, to destroy entirely, the dread sign of Hengist.