"Do you know where Sebbald fell?" said Elfric, referring to his own
ancestor.

"Just under this hillock, close by King Cynric, who fought like a lion
to save the body, but was unable to do so. The Welsh were then gaining
the day. Still, even his foes respected his valour, and gave your
forefather a fair and honourable burial."

Leaving the battlefield, they entered the Saxon town, which was defended
on one side by the Cherwell, on the other by a mound and palisade, with
an outer ditch supplied by the river. Here they found hospitable
entertainment, and left on the morrow for the town of Kirtlington.

They left Beranbyrig early, and reached the village of Sutthun (King's
Sutton), where they perceived a great multitude of people collected
around a well at the outskirts of the village.

"What are these people doing?" asked Elfric.

"Oh, do you not know?" replied Anlaf. "This is St. Rumbald's well," and
he crossed himself piously.

"Who was St. Rumbald?" asked Elfric innocently.

"Oh, he was son of the king of Northumbria, and of his queen, the
daughter of the old king Penda of Mercia, and the strange thing is that
he is a saint although he only lived three days."

"How could that be?"