by Chris Bishop
I asked after Aelred but he shook his head saying that as far as he knew he and I were the only prisoners, though there were many Saxon men and women held as slaves plus other people brought in from places far across the sea. If true, that meant Aelred might have made it to the other shore or at least evaded capture. Unless of course he’d drowned.
I glanced around the hovel and realised it might be possible to break out – not through the door but through the walls which were nothing more than flimsy boards crudely nailed into place.
‘It’ll do you no good,’ warned Cenric as he watched me try several panels looking for one which was loose or poorly fitted. ‘Once outside it’ll be like walking through a nest of vipers as we’re right in the middle of their camp here with the bastards all around us.’
‘But we have to warn Lord Alfred,’ I insisted. ‘This is not just a settlement, it’s an encampment full of Viking warriors!’ With that I managed to lift back part of one panel only to realise that from all I could see, Cenric was right; escape was all but impossible. I therefore settled down in one corner of the hovel and tried to rest as best I could.
As I sat there I began to contemplate my fate and the more I did so the more dejected I became. Had I really survived so much only to be executed alongside a man who was both a murderer and a common thief? Was that the great purpose God had in mind for me and for which he’d spared my life so often?
After a little while the door was opened and two of the guards indicated that Cenric was to follow them. I didn’t know then where he was being taken to but, if he had indeed killed one of their number, it didn’t bode well for him. He was shaking as they pulled him to his feet then started to forcibly drag him from the hovel. He struggled and managed to stop long enough to look at me, his eyes almost pleading for me to help him – but there was nothing I could do.
I was kept there for several hours after that, desperately trying to stay warm given that my undershirt and leggings were still wet. Eventually I too was fetched and led to a large area which had been cleared and where burned a blazing fire. Cenric was there already, stripped naked and suspended by his arms from a makeshift scaffold so that his feet barely touched the ground. I could see that he was in great pain and had many cuts to his face and body, some of which oozed blood. He had clearly suffered a brutal beating and looked to be only partly conscious. All around him were men and women who were presumably there to witness his chastisement.
A number of benches had been set around the fire, one of them covered in furs on which was sat a man I recognised. He had been seated next to Guthrum and Ubba that night I ventured into the Viking camp to spy on them. He had been the least terrifying of the trio, but I remembered his long copper-coloured hair which was still tied back with a silver ring. I also recalled his sallow complexion and little amber eyes which were set too close together. He didn’t look much like a great leader of men, not like Guthrum or even Ubba, but nonetheless all there seemed to be in awe of him.
I was pushed towards the fire and made to stand before this man whose name I didn’t know but now guessed to be Jarl Hakon himself – Hakon the Bonebreaker Torstein had called him and I soon realised why. Next to him was a huge club with nails and studs protruding from the head. It was surely a brutal weapon, designed to inflict some terrible wounds. I should have been scared witless at that point but, if truth be told, I was long past feeling anything and was actually just grateful to be so close to the fire so that I could warm my bones and give my still damp clothes a chance to dry.
One of his guards tried to force me to my knees in homage but I was in no mood to be bullied. I shrugged him off and glared at him, looking as threatening as I could given that my hands were still tied.
Jarl Hakon said nothing but instead summoned another man to step closer. As he hobbled towards me on crutches I recognised yet another familiar face, that of Ulf, the old warrior who had served as interpreter during Alfred’s negotiations with Guthrum after the battle at Edington.
‘My Lord Hakon says that you may stand,’ he said, not unkindly.
I nodded my thanks. ‘Then ask him what he wants of me,’ I demanded boldly, though still shivering despite the warmth of the fire.
‘First he would know who you are,’ said Ulf.
I hesitated for a moment before lifting up my undershirt so they could see my scar. A gasp went up when all there saw and seemed to recognise it. ‘I think you know full well who I am. I’m called the warrior with the pierced heart.’
Hakon seemed to find that amusing. He turned and said something to Ulf who immediately translated. ‘My Lord says that he does not believe in men rising from the dead. It is true you have suffered a terrible wound, but he says you were lucky that it healed, that’s all. He has seen men recover from such wounds before.’
It was my turn to smile. ‘Then Jarl Hakon is a wise man. Wiser than most at any rate. But you and I have met before.’
Ulf peered at me then seemed to recognise me. ‘Were you not at Alfred’s side when we spoke with him?’ he recalled. ‘Did you not return a sword to the boy Arne and offer him protection?’
‘That’s all true. Except that I offered to adopt Arne as my brother as a gesture of peace between our peoples. As it turns out he was a treacherous little toad who repaid me by betraying me to Jarl Torstein.’
Both men looked bemused.
‘Lord Alfred was magnanimous that day despite his great victory,’ I explained. ‘He deemed that enough blood had been spilled, both Saxon and Viking.’
Hakon nodded, clearly understanding some of what I’d said. I remembered how Alfred had pretended not to understand the Viking tongue when Guthrum came to negotiate his surrender. It seemed that the Vikings had learned much from that particular ploy.
‘So why has Lord Alfred sent you here to spy on us?’ Ulf demanded.
‘I’m no spy. Neither was I sent here by Lord Alfred. I was taken captive, first by miserable slavers and then by Jarl Torstein. I escaped when the boat bringing us here capsized but I couldn’t make it to the Saxon shore.’
‘How can we know this to be true?’ said Ulf. ‘Your reputation has reached us even here and we can have no doubt about your loyalty to Lord Alfred.’
‘And what would I tell him? That you have an army and that you mean to invade? There are what, barely two hundred warriors here? Even if you had twice that number he would defeat you in an instant as he did at Edington. And at Combwich for that matter.’
‘This is not an army,’ Ulf assured me. ‘It is simply a place for our people to gather to await the arrival of Lord Guthrum in person who will then dispense lands to those who served him well. It was decreed by Alfred himself as part of the peace between them that Guthrum may govern here in Alfred’s stead.’
‘I know for I was there if you remember. But Guthrum is to govern in Alfred’s name, not in his stead,’ I corrected.
Ulf shrugged as though it made no difference.
‘This is not the first time I’ve visited a Viking camp either,’ I said.
Both men looked at me, clearly surprised.
‘Have you forgotten my singing so soon?’ I asked, teasing them.
Still they seemed not to recognise me.
‘On Alfred’s orders I entered Guthrum’s camp at Chippenham and pretended to sing and dance for food,’ I reminded them. ‘Though I cannot say that I was offered much in the way of hospitality.’
Suddenly Hakon roared with laughter.
‘My Lord says that he does indeed remember that day. He says that he much admires your courage, though thought your singing was an offence to his ears.’
I laughed and thanked him, then pressed my luck. ‘So what’s to become of me? Am I your prisoner or will you let me return to Lord Alfred as is my right? If this is truly not an army you’ve gathered here, then you’ve nothing to fear from me – or from him.’
The two men conferred for a moment then Ulf announced their decision. ‘Jarl Hakon says that your friend here must
die. He stole from a man and then took his life as well. As for you, whilst he hates spies, he will overlook that you entered Guthrum’s camp that night as much has happened since. However, there are other charges against you that must be answered.’
‘Such as?’ I demanded.
‘His loyal Jarl, Torstein, is even now recovering from the river. Jarl Torstein says you upset the boat on purpose which cost him all his plunder and the lives of five of his men. He demands vengeance for this.’
‘I’m glad Torstein survived for I much respect him as a warrior. But the treasure he lost was plundered from Saxon homes and churches so was never rightfully his in the first place. How can he claim to have lost what he never owned? As to his men, they were warriors so took their chances. I’ve no cause to answer for them.’
As this was translated Hakon nodded to acknowledge each point without saying a word to indicate whether he accepted my argument or not. When Ulf had finished, the Viking seemed to consider the matter.
‘Torstein has been summoned and will speak for himself,’ said Ulf. ‘According to our law you have taken the lives of many and for that you must forfeit your own, just as Cenric here must do. As we wait for Jarl Torstein to arrive, my Lord Hakon has ordered that you be given dry clothes and some food.’
I thanked them and asked whether Cenric might at least be cut down as well. This was denied so instead I tried to explain my position. ‘As I’ve said, I’ve been a prisoner since soon after I left Chippenham. During all that time I’ve been forced to watch the slaughter at several Saxon settlements and a Holy Abbey. For those acts I also demand vengeance as they were clearly in breach of Alfred’s treaty with Lord Guthrum.’
Ulf nodded. ‘It is true that there is fault on both sides, but my Lord insists that he hears Torstein’s argument as well.’
‘And if he finds against me?’
‘Then you will be put to the sword but, as a warrior, you will be allowed to die with honour.’
With that my hands were untied and I was given a clean tunic to wear and a warm woollen cloak to wrap around my shoulders. I was also offered a bowl of hot broth which I drank gratefully. I asked for some water to be given to Cenric who still hung from the scaffold in great pain, but that request was refused. Then, even as I considered my options, Torstein arrived looking none the worse for his dunking in the river.
He bowed to Jarl Hakon then kissed his ring before addressing me. ‘So either you can swim like a fish or you’ve returned from the dead yet again.’
‘I can swim,’ I said simply. ‘As it seems can you.’
‘We were lucky that men brought a boat to save us,’ he said. ‘Otherwise we might all have drowned.’
‘So tell me, did my servant Aelred survive?’
Torstein said he didn’t know, but that they’d found no trace of him.
‘And what about Arne?’
‘He did, unlike many of the others. Also, all my booty and belongings were lost to the river for which you must pay with your blood.’
‘You can hardly blame me for your incompetence,’ I said.
Ulf seemed interested in this and demanded to know what I meant.
‘The man at the helm was drunk as were many others. He fell over the side and, as I was nearest, I seized the steering oar and tried to steady the boat,’ I lied, making up the story as I went along.
‘That’s not so!’ exclaimed Torstein.
I shrugged. ‘I was closer than you. Unfortunately, as I told you, I’ve no knowledge of sailing so turned the boat about and she floundered when she went across the wind. The ropes securing the sail could not hold and gave way, causing the gear to collapse on to those nearest the mast.’
‘You cut the ropes on purpose!’ accused Torstein.
I feigned a look to appear incredulous. ‘How could I do that?’ I said. ‘I was a prisoner. You let a drunken fool take your place at the helm so must take the blame for his mistake.’
Ulf looked at Torstein for a reply.
‘This is nonsense. You set about to sink the boat so you and your friend could escape!’ pressed Torstein.
I spread my hands wide. ‘Had I known anything about boats I might have tried that, but if that was my intent would I not first have steered it closer to the Saxon shore? Only a fool would have done so when so close to the wrong bank of such a wide river.’
Ulf repeated all this to Hakon who nodded wisely. Although none of what I said was true, I had to admit it did sound convincing.
‘My Lord says that you should both have drowned in the river, but that fate brought you here instead. It should therefore now decide this matter.’
‘How can that be done?’ I asked.
‘The matter will be determined by combat between you at dawn tomorrow,’ announced Ulf as though that was an obvious decision.
I could see at once what Hakon was trying to do. Given that I’d seen his army gathering there on the banks of the river and all the longships which were being built, I could not be allowed to live. Yet if he killed me and Lord Alfred heard of it, which he surely would given how close we were to the Saxon settlement just across the river, he’d certainly seek reprisals. If on the other hand I was slain in combat over some personal grievance, no criticism could be levied against anyone.
My concern was that if Torstein and I did fight, I would almost certainly lose as, after all I’d endured, I was in no fit state to take on a warrior like him even once rested. Yet it seemed I didn’t have much choice. My only consolation was that I would get the chance to die avenging my men whom he’d so brutally butchered on that fateful day in the forest. ‘I accept the proposal,’ I managed as boldly as I could. ‘But on two conditions. I must be allowed to fight with my father’s sword, assuming that also survived the river. If I win the contest, then the sword remains mine and I am free to return to Lord Alfred unharmed.’
‘Agreed. And the second?’ asked Ulf.
‘That Cenric here will be freed as well.’
Ulf explained that to Hakon who seemed to find it amusing. ‘My Lord decrees that only one may live. Therefore if you prevail then this man will die. If you are slain, he will be spared from execution.’
It was not much of a bargain but I was in no position to argue. Not sure what I would do at that point, I looked towards Cenric who had clearly heard what was said.
‘J-just d-do it,’ he said, barely managing to speak. ‘Forget m-me, my f-fate is s-sealed.’
It was a brave thing to say but I suspect he was in such pain that death would have come as a welcome relief. Still I hesitated but, in the end, I realised I had no choice. I was certain I would not survive the fight with Torstein, not just because I doubted my fitness to fight but also because it was likely that he was almost as skilled with the sword as was my brother Edwin. Though I had often practised with Edwin I had never come close to bettering him. ‘All right, I agree,’ I said reluctantly. ‘But I would have your word on this as a bargain between us. Also, if I fall my body must not be spoiled and will be given to the Saxons for a Christian burial.’
‘You can demand nothing,’ said Torstein who, by then, seemed to be growing weary of the haggling.
Ulf looked to Hakon then raised his arm. ‘He has spoken well and given an account of his position. He therefore stands on an even footing as yourself,’ he said. ‘Like you, he can choose what becomes of his body. Though from all I’ve heard of him as a warrior you may want to consider what you want for your own remains should the contest not go well for you.’
* * * * *
‘So, what is your true name?’ asked Ulf as Torstein and I stood before Hakon the next morning prior to fighting.
Certain that I would be killed, I had already decided to tell them who I was as at least that way both Alfred and Emelda would learn of my fate. ‘I am called Matthew but was christened Edward. I am the third born son of Edwulf who was an Ealdorman and friend to Lord Alfred. My brother was a warrior you may have heard of. His name was Lord Edwin.’
&n
bsp; Hakon looked surprised to say the least.
‘My Lord has indeed heard of your brother and regarded him well,’ said Ulf.
Torstein also looked impressed. ‘I never fought your brother, but I have heard tell of him. As for you, I’ll take no pleasure in killing you, boy, but you have cost me the lives of many of my men, all my booty and my boat, therefore I have no choice but to fight you.’
‘It will also enhance your reputation if you are the one brave enough to slay the warrior with the pierced heart,’ I pointed out. ‘But know this, my God will surely avenge me if you do kill me before he’s ready to take me back and I wouldn’t want to stand in your shoes if he does.’
He looked a little uncertain at that and was, I’m sure, considering his own fate. For my part I had spent the night trying to decide what best to do. Fighting Torstein was not going to be easy. Even though I’d lost count of the men I’d killed by then, almost all of them had been slain by guile or chance. Apart from in the general melee of battle, I had not stood toe to toe with a trained warrior and traded blows with him in a contest such as the one I was about to face.
‘My Lord would know whether you wish to borrow a mail vest and helmet?’ said Ulf.
I was tempted to accept the offer but whilst trying to form my plan the previous night, I’d remembered the story Aelred had told us after we’d escaped from the slavers; the one about the small man in the land of giants. Hereric had overcome and slain his much bigger and stronger opponent by tiring him and by allowing himself to move more freely. I’d realised that might well be my only chance and I therefore declined Ulf’s offer. ‘My sword and a shield will suffice,’ I said. ‘I need no mail vest for as you know I’ve died before so have nothing to fear from a mere mortal such as Jarl Torstein.’
‘You really do have no fear of death, do you, boy?’ said Torstein.
I smiled at him. The truth was that I was all but quaking with fear and struggling not to show it by shivering in the cold morning air. Yet I knew that death in combat was better and quicker than whatever other ways they could find to torture me so tried to appear as bold as I could. ‘If my God should choose to call me back to him I’ll go willingly,’ I said. ‘But if so, I would have you tell Lord Alfred of my fate. He should know what has become of me and will be consoled to hear that I rest with God.’
