by Griff Hosker
I took out the map I had found. I used my finger to show him what I meant. “Here is a stream which comes from the north; Straetforda. The land around it is swampy. We hold them at the stream. That will give Gruffyd time enough to empty Lundenwic. Even if we are driven back then we can hold the walls of Lundenburh and we will have time to take its treasures.”
I sensed that Gruffyd was less than happy. “I would rather fight than collect grain and gold!”
Ragnar spoke quietly but his voice carried authority, “Gruffyd, you have mail. Many of your men do not. Your father and I will face the foe with armoured men. He has chosen a good place to fight. We can use our strongest men to hold the foe. Obey me.”
He nodded, “Aye Ragnar.” My son was learning valuable lessons. I had no doubt that, on the next raid, all of his men would have mail. He ran off shouting, “Einar, get the men and the crews of ‘Red Dragon’ and ‘Storm Bird’ . We go raiding!”
Ragnar said, “Show me again on the map.”
I pointed to the stream. “It looks to be just over three miles away.”
“They will be coming down the road. That looks to be a ford there. It might work. Are there any horses here?”
I shook my head, “The stables were empty.” Ragnar chewed his lip; he was thinking. “We do not want to fight them here. We need them defeated as far away from their walls as we can manage.”
He suddenly jabbed a finger at the smaller stream close to Stybbanhype. “The road passes there. We have a wood on one flank for our archers and we have a stream on the other. It is closer. It is nearer to two miles.”
It was a wise move. “Then let us arm and go!”
Only my men needed to arm. Those from the drekar had not had the opportunity to shed their mail. Ragnar, Ketil, Asbjorn and Ulf led the bulk of our warriors on the Roman road which headed to Colneceastre. It was a good road and well maintained. I saw that Ragnar had the men marching at their fastest speed, using a chant to help them.
The Angry Cubs and the Wolf Killers Bears
Sailed together, through dangers shared
Through battles hard against their foes
They forged a link, a bond which grows
Cubs and bears forged from steel
Cubs and bears to no man kneel
When Egbert came they held their walls
When others fled they still stood tall
With Ironshirt and Wolf’s blood
They drove the Saxons through the wood
Cubs and bears forged from steel
Cubs and bears to no man kneel
And now they sail, brothers in arms
Protected by the volva’s charms
Cubs and bears forged from steel
Cubs and bears to no man kneel
Cubs and bears forged from steel
Cubs and bears to no man kneel
Olaf and the Ulfheonar arrived with our chests. “Cnut, we need to run. I leave you here with Gruffyd. Guard the walls of the fort. If the Norns weave at least we will have somewhere to take shelter. Use the ship’s boys as guards and bring them inside the fort. Watch Atticus. He has been helpful to us but I would not want him to become light fingered or to think of deserting us while I am away.”
Cnut nodded, “I will keep the slippery Greek close.”
“You might tell Erik Short Toe that he met a grandson of Old Josephus. Erik’s presence might allow you to watch the walls.”
“Ay, jarl.”
Now with metal hood, helmet and shield I led my handful of warriors north east. Ragnar could have fought without us. We were too few to tip the balance. I was not arrogant enough to think that we might decide the battle but he was my grandson and these were our people. None of us would stand by and watch others fight. It was not our way.
We soon caught up with the warriors at the rear of the column. They were the men from my village. Sven Long Walking had taken them to march with his men. The talk was of the treachery of the Saxons who had broken their word. Ragnar had used words to trick them. That was acceptable. He had not been foresworn. The men were angry that they had lost comrades. They had had to leave their bodies to be despoiled.
I saw the woods to the north. They were not thick but our archers would be able to use them for cover. All that they had to do was to stop the enemy from out flanking us. I realised that I had not asked Ragnar how many men remained in the Saxon horde. It was probably irrelevant. Eorledman Aethelbald would gather men as he moved west. It would be in the interest of every man to join the fight against us. Luckily, we had slain more of their experienced warriors than they had. The fyrd did not frighten us.
Up ahead I could see that, reaching the narrow part, Ragnar had begun to array the first of the warriors. It was a perilously thin line. They were however the best of our men. My jarls had the most experience and more of their men were mailed than any of the others. We had lost men and some were with Gruffyd but we still had, by my reckoning, more than a hundred and sixty warriors. Over ninety were mailed. The dead Saxons had provided mail shirts. Our men might have rowed and they would be tired but we would place a steel barrier for the Saxons to breach. It would be a test of which warrior was the stronger.
I heard a cheer from the men who were arraying and then I heard the banging of shields. The enemy were in sight. There was a temptation to run and hurry to join them. That would be a mistake. It invited disaster. Men could fall and the whole column would be delayed.
Beorn the Scout was on my left and he shouted, “I see our archers, jarl, they are entering the woods.”
“Good. Sven Long Walking, position your men and the warriors of Cyninges-tūn on the right flank behind Ketil and his men. Guard the stream. I do not want them to outflank us. Have your men in an oblique line. If you feel threatened then there is no shame in pulling back. A slow retreat to the walls of Lundenburh would not be the worst decision to make. Cnut Cnutson has the ships’ boys guarding them.”
“Aye jarl.”
I could not see the enemy for there were too many men before me. When Sven led my men to the right I had a better view. Raibeart and his men were just deploying behind Asbjorn. There was a small gap between him and Ragnar. That would be for the Ulfheonar. We had no banner; it flew over Lundenburh. I would fight under Ragnar’s! The Saxons could be clearly seen. I now knew why they had not attacked yet. They, too, were deploying into a line. Eorledman Aethelbald would be wary. His wild attacks had cost him men. Now he would try to crush us. Only those in the very middle would have solid footing. The ones on the southern side, closest to the stream, would have swampy ground. It was why I had sent Sven there. Men without armour could risk the stream and the swamp. Mailed men could not. Sven had enough of my men who had no armour to counter that threat.
We positioned ourselves in the front rank and the rank behind us closed up. We would only have a three-deep line. There would be no reserves. This would be a bloody battle. The Eorledman was fighting for more than glory. His treasure lay within the fort. He did not know that it was already stolen. He could not know that his secret lair had been breached. As soon as we returned to the fort we would place it in our drekar. Others in the Eorledman’s army were fighting for their homes. They did not know what we intended to do with their wives, mothers and daughters. They would fight hard and die harder!
I turned to Ragnar, “We only need to stop them. We fight them to a standstill. Gruffyd needs just a few hours to clean out the city.”
He smiled, “You mean do not seek glory.”
“That is exactly what I mean!” There were times when only a blunt answer would do.
Looking at the Saxon lines, I saw that they were almost ready. I drew my sword. I had not sharpened it since I had slain Sigeberht. That was a mistake. I was getting old. Times past I would have sharpened it as we marched using a whetstone. My sharpest weapons were the seaxes I had in each boot. Who knew, it might come to that. Luckily my shield had not taken any damage. The dents in my helmet made it look weak but it was not.
Bagsecg had made it well. The Saxons were not using a wide frontage. The woods to their right were an invitation for an ambush and the swamp and river to their left might cause problems. Then I saw that Aethelbald was not at the front. He was at the rear with horsemen. They had recaptured their herd. He had over eighty mounted men. I knew that they would not attack on horse; they had learned their lesson but they could use horses. He would be able to move more quickly around the battlefield. His horses could even make the passage of the swamp easier. His horses could cross the river.
Ragnar had spotted them too. “Do you think that they will attempt to flank us?”
“I have Sven Long Walking there. He is solid. I advised him to fall back to the walls if he felt his men would not stand.”
He turned and stared at me, “That risks our flank then.”
Shaking my head, I pointed to the woods, “If we are turned we can take shelter there. Gruffyd and the others will have the walls manned soon enough. If night falls then we use the Ulfheonar to attack. We have not used them yet.”
“There are seven of you!”
Haaken had heard, “Too many perhaps? You may be right, young Ragnar.”
I shook my head, “You are becoming an old fool Haaken One Eye! Make up a saga!”
“Aye it would be the saga of Dragonheart and the Saxon Champion!”
To my alarm he began to do so. Words just tripped from his tongue.
The Dragonheart looked old and grey.
He fought a champion that cold wet day.
A mountain of a man without a hair
Like a giant Norse snow bear
Knocked to the ground by Viking skill
The Saxon stood and struck a blow to kill
Old and grey and cunning yet,
The Dragonheart his sword did wet…
“Enough Haaken One Eye, I cannot think!” In truth, I was embarrassed. I saw my men listening to the words. I needed them to focus on the enemy.
“Anyway, the day was not wet! It was grey!”
“Poetic licence, Olaf Leather Neck!”
The Saxons were quick learners. I saw the eorledman wave his hand and a trumpet sounded. Instead of the line attacking us, half of the fyrd ran towards the woods. Our archers could slay them but their numbers were such that they would have to fall back or risk being surrounded. The Saxons had used a quarter of their men to eliminate the threat of our arrows. Aethelbald had learned. Then the horns sounded again and the rest of the fyrd ran towards our right flank and the stream. They would be able to cross with impunity. Without mail and helmets they could jump from tussock to tussock and reach our men quickly. At the same time, the horsemen began to move and follow them. As the fyrd and the horses neared our men their plan became obvious. They began to move through the fyrd and, when they were just a hundred paces from Sven and his men, dismounted. Our archers were all in the woods. Aethelbald formed his eighty men into a wedge. Sven Long Walking would have a hard task to stop eighty men backed by a horde of peasants eager to destroy those who had come to harm their families.
It was then that Ragnar showed how far he had come. He turned and said, “You advised Sven Long Walking to fall back?” I nodded. “Then let us hope that he does so. We will attack!” It was the right thing to do. The plan to hold the Saxons was now in tatters. The warriors facing us would wait until Aethelbald could turn our flanks and then they would both attack at once. We had almost parity of numbers with the Saxons but our first two ranks were mailed. Barely half of theirs was. Aethelbald had taken most of the mailed men with him. Raising his sword, and without using the horn, Ragnar shouted, “Clan of the Wolf, On!”
It is harder to march in three lines than in a wedge. Ragnar banged his shield and that helped to keep the beat. Soon every warrior was banging his shield. The eorledman had committed his fyrd to an attack. Once started they were impossible to stop. He had thought to fix us in position while his men ate around our flanks. Then and only then would he have initiated a full attack.
I saw banners in the second and third ranks of the enemy line but I did not recognise them. When I had fought King Egbert I had known his lords and known whom I should attack. I began to work out which would be the warrior I would kill. A warrior who looked for an easy man to fight had already lost the battle. I had to believe that I would win. Haaken’s new saga sprang into my mind, ‘The Dragonheart looked old and grey’ . Was that how men saw me now? Perhaps this was my day to die. It would not be a bad day to die. Even if I was slain and our men defeated we had the grain and we had the treasure. My son and grandson would sail home and my family and clan would be safe. The thought reassured me.
The Saxon I had selected was not a greybeard like me. He looked to be in the prime of his life. Slightly shorter than I was I saw that he had a stocky build. He was a smaller version of the Saxon champion I had slain. He had a fish scale byrnie. A well made one could be better than a mail shirt. Their weakness lay in the stitching. If you damaged it them the metal scales could fall and expose vulnerable spots beneath. In a long battle that sometimes happened. He had an open face helmet. It was oval rather than round. His sword looked to be slightly shorter than mine but it was his shield which was his weakness. He must have fought in the other battle. He might have sharpened his sword since then but he had not repaired his shield. He had a metal boss on his willow board shield but it was not like mine, covered in leather. It was made of cut planks of willow without any protection and I could see the cracks and splits already. I would have found another on the battlefield which was in better condition. Perhaps he thought it a lucky shield. He would soon discover that it was not.
When we were twenty paces from the Saxons we began to beat our shields faster and to move more quickly. A Saxon voice yelled, “Lock shields” and then, “Brace!”
The ones in our second rank had spears. Our front rank did not. The Saxons had even fewer spears. The earlier battle had shattered too many. We had an advantage. Those in our second rank could jab and probe. They could distract. They could annoy. Sometimes that might be enough.
I held my sword over my shield. The open face helmet was too inviting to do other. When we crashed together then a blade might be deflected and might miss its aim but if it struck over a shield then an open face helmet had no protection. He thrust at me as I took the last step. He rammed it at my middle. It hit my shield and the tip came up, almost taking his own eye out. I thrust with Ragnar’s Spirit. His shield flicked up to stop it. Forcing the edge to the side the sword sliced deeply into the bridge of his nose. His head jerked back out of the way. I saw a spear dart over Haaken One Eye’s shoulder and pierce the eye of the Saxon Haaken was fighting.
A shield wall needs locked shields to be effective. One shield had fallen and a second had been pushed back. Rolf Horse Killer took advantage of the fallen warrior to chop his axe towards the next Saxon in the line. His axe head was heavy and it was sharp. It bit through to the bone of his arm. As the Saxon dropped his sword Haaken slashed him across the neck.
I pulled back my shield. The Saxon’s move had created a gap and I smashed my shield as hard as I could against his. Normally that would not have worked but his fragile shield could not withstand the blow and one of the boards split and fell away. A shield with a hole is not a shield. Pulling my arm back I sent Ragnar’s Spirit through the hole. His shield held the blade in place and it slipped into his neck. I pushed until my guard came up against the willow board. By then the Saxon was dead. Others along our line were having the same success but we had a hole three men deep. We had the chance to penetrate into the heart of the Saxon defence.
Raising Ragnar’s Spirit, I shouted, “Clan of the Wolf! Forward to glory!” I knew not why I shouted the words but my voice and the roar from those around me was like a body blow to the Saxons. My Ulfheonar led the surge. Haaken and I swung our swords overhand, oblivious to the blows struck in reply. The axes of Olaf and Rolf made Saxons flinch. They pulled up their shields higher. Their eyes flickered to the
axes and our swords swept away the swords of the two Saxons we fought. My blade bit into the arm of the mailed Saxon I faced. I punched him with my shield and then hacked again across his neck. Haaken’s blow was even better. He half severed the head of his Saxon while Olaf and Rolf’s axes hacked through shields, helmets and skulls. Our hole became four men wide and the men before us had no mail.
There was no longer any order. Brave Saxons tried to fill the hole as warriors like Olaf Leather Neck and Rollo Thin Skin almost went berserk. They tore into the enemy lines. With superior shields and the best of weapons they slaughtered all before them. The Saxons were fighting bravely enough but their weapons could do little damage to mailed men who were still backed by a wall of shields. When we found no more enemies to fight we stopped. My blood had not rushed to my head. I was still relatively cool.
“Aðils Shape Shifter, how does Sven Long Walking Fare?”
Aðils was on the far right of our line. He was taller than the warriors by him, “They are hard pressed, jarl and have made a shield wall.”
“Ulfheonar, we go to the aid of Sven. Follow me!” I turned and yelled, “Clear a path!”
The men behind us parted and we ran. There were only seven of us but the warriors who were hard pressed came from Cyninges-tūn. We hurried across a field littered with dead and then we saw the horde of Saxons. Their horses were to our left with boys guarding them. The horsemen and the fyrd were intermingled as they hacked and chopping to get through Sven Long Walking’s shield wall. As soon as we neared them and made our cry our men would take heart. I had been in battles where I thought that all was lost. A small act or even a shout can give hope. If hope is lost then so is the battle. Sven Long Walking had not heeded my advice. He had stood. It was brave but it was unnecessary. Ragnar had assumed that Sven would obey my orders when he had attacked. Sven’s action could cost us the battle.
