by Griff Hosker
“The Mercians have had a bloody nose and they will seek to finish us off. If we meet them now then we might just turn the tide.”
The king dismounted and strode up to me. “Will you give me your hand and swear that you will not betray me?”
I held out my hand, “I so swear.”
“Then we should make camp and prepare to meet with Cynhelm of Mercia. He is not far behind us.”
We had seen a small rise above the river some half a Roman mile to the west of us. “There is a small hill we could fortify. The river would guard one flank.”
“Good. Let us go. March with me so that I may speak with you.”
As we marched I examined their weapons. They were not the best that I had ever seen. I was surprised for they had iron. What they needed were the skills to make fine weapons.
“Had we ships then we might be able to make our river flank more secure.”
“I have ships. I can send for them.”
“You are resourceful. I believe Iago but we have heard that all Norsemen are like the wolves from the sea and the cloaks of your men seem to confirm this.”
“Aye, we are the warriors of the wolf, the Ulfheonar but we are no animals. I look after my people much the same as you do with yours.” I turned to Haaken. “Go to our men and have them fortify the hill and send some for the ships.” As they trotted off I turned to the king. “How many Mercians are there?”
“More than four hundred.”
“And how many men do you have?”
“Less than two hundred?” he shrugged, “There are more but they fled the field. They will not return.” He smiled at me. “Do you wish to reconsider your offer of help?”
“I gave my word and the odds do not frighten me. I have fought greater numbers. They are Saxons and we know how to fight Saxons.”
Iago nodded, “I have heard that they fear you. The mothers of Northumbria tell their children to behave or the Viking wolf will come for them in the dark of night.”
“I cannot help the stories fools tell. How many archers do you have?”
“No more than thirty remain.”
“If we put them on the hill then they can keep up a rain of arrows over our men’s heads. I have slingers who will annoy them.”
“You want to annoy them?”
I laughed, “A warrior who is annoyed will do foolish things and forget that he fights with his head and not his heart. The Saxons believe that their shield wall cannot be broken. Believe me they can.”
Iago dismounted to walk next to me. We were nearing my men. “You are very confident for one who appears so young.”
I shrugged, “I killed my first man when I was little more than a boy. I have been doing this for a long time.”
“And it helps to have a sword touched by the gods.”
My men had cut down branches from the nearby trees and were making a rampart at the foot of the hill.
“Your men are making a fort?”
“No King Selfyn. It is to break up their attack. They see it as flimsy, which it is but they cannot come across it in a solid wall. We will kill them as they cross it.”
The ships reached us and ‘The Heart of the Dragon’ touched the beach and Aiden jumped ashore. I waved him to my side. “This is my healer, King Selfyn. Let him look at you.”
“I will be fine, Norseman.”
“If he looks at you then you will.”
Aiden knelt, “I promise that I will heal your wounds.” He was a bright boy and he had had already seen the wounds. They were not dangerous but if unattended then they would be.
Iago nodded, “I would be happier your majesty.”
“Very well.”
Aiden took out his satchel and his water skin. He poured some water in a bowl and added some of the spirit he made. He bathed the wound on the king’s arm and his head. The king winced. “Do not worry your majesty, that is all the pain that there will be.” He took out his mortar and pestle and ground up some yarrow seeds, some sage and some garlic. When it was smooth he put into another bowl with some honey.
Iago was fascinated. “Honey?”
Aiden shrugged, “It helps wounds heal quicker.” He smeared the ointment on the wounds. The wound on the face was left open but the arm was bandaged. “There your majesty. I will see it again in the morning. How does it feel?”
“It feels warm and there is no pain. Are you a wizard?”
I laughed, “We call him one but he prefers to be called a healer.”
Just then a man ran in to the camp.”The Saxons are just down the road!”
Iago took charge. “Stand to!”
“Haaken, have the men in two lines from the river to the shore. Have the slingers before us.”
I did not think the Mercians would fight. They would see us and expect us to flee. When we did not they would camp and attack us when they were fresh. Men in a defeated army had a tendency to sneak away during the night. I was counting on that.
The Mercians approached us in a wedge. I assumed that their king was the figure on the horse at the rear. Our extra numbers appeared to confuse them. I saw mailed men who looked like leaders rushing to the man on the horse to speak with him. We were not moving. We stood facing each other until the sun began to dip in the west. The Mercians moved back up the river and soon we saw their camp fires.
I made sure that my men had food and we knew who was on duty before I went to speak with the king and Iago. I had a plan. I hoped that they would follow it. If that proved to be true then we had a chance of winning this one sided battle. They both agreed with my ideas, mainly, I think because it would be my men who would be taking all of the risks.
“And you are happy to be paid in iron ore?”
“Yes King Selfyn. I have two ships to transport it back.”
“I had thought that all Norsemen took what they wanted.”
I laughed, “Oft times we do but this is one occasion where we will trade for we wish the trade to continue for many years hence.”
I wandered my camp after dark to make sure that all of my warriors knew what we intended. Haaken and Cnut were not surprised by my plan. “You have a strange mind, Dragon Heart. You do not think as we do. Cnut and I would just walk up to the Mercians and fight them man to man but you are far more subtle. Is this your Saxon blood or the blood of the Romans?”
“I know not. I feel as one of you when I fight alongside you but when I retreat inside my mind I know that I am different.” I pointed to Haaken. “Just as inside your mind you are making stories and songs about our battles I am planning. It is what makes us who we are.”
Cnut nodded, “And perhaps that is the secret of our success. We are all different. Jarl Erik and his warriors always appeared to be of the same mind as did Ragnar Hairy Breeches and the other Norse leaders.”
“And they will not endure. The people of Cyninges-tūn and Windar’s Mere will live on.”
The next day there was a thin line of thirty warriors running from the bottom of the hill to the river. They were my Ulfheonar. Only Sigtrygg was missing from the Ulfheonar. There were some volunteers from my other warriors too. The archers of the men of Gwent were on the hill top and the spearmen arrayed before them. Only four men of Gwent had deserted during the night. The king sat alone on his horse at the top of the hill while Iago and his oathsworn waited out of sight behind it. ‘The Heart of the Dragon’ was moored next to the river.
King Cynhelm and his men marched towards us. Their scouts had been out early. Two had been a little keen and had paid for that with their lives. The others had been more cautious. The Mercians knew our dispositions. They advanced in two warbands. Each had their famous wedge formation. The larger band came at my small group of warriors. Their plan was obvious. They would destroy my handful of men and then sweep around the hill and surround the men of Gwent while the other wedge pinned the men of Gwent against the hill. It was a good plan.
When they were two hundred paces away we closed up a little and my men began to b
ang their shields with their swords. They chanted, “Ulfheonar! Ulfheonar! Ulfheonar!” It was hypnotic and I noticed that the Saxons slowed. They must have wondered why we did not flee. We were outnumbered and the men on the hill showed no sign of coming to our aid.
We had five slingers before us and the same number before the army of Gwent. They began to hurl their lead and stone balls at the advancing Mercians. Perhaps they thought that they were not a threat. They came on. When the first four warriors fell to the stones of the boys they changed their minds and their shields came up to protect them. It was what I wanted. I waited until they were just fifty paces from us and then yelled, “Charge!”
It was the last thing that the Mercians expected. We raced forward, not as a line but as warriors eager to die! They would think we were going berserk. The Mercian shields protected them from stones but they did not give them a view of their front. I jumped as I approached the warrior at the point of the wedge and brought my sword down on the top of his helmet. The weight of my sword, the height of my jump and the power of my arm smashed through his helmet and he fell dead. My men had done the same all along the line. I turned and ran back to our start position. My men all joined me and they began to laugh. The wedge was in complete disarray. Dead and wounded men lay before them.
The second wedge was already in action against the king but it was a smaller wedge. They had intended that to hold the men of Gwent. The one facing us was the one which would have delivered the hammer blow of victory! Another warrior stood at the front and reorganised his wedge. My slingers kept up a steady rain of missiles. I knew that the Mercians would become angrier. An angry warrior rushes when he should wait. My plan was succeeding.
As we waited Haaken said, “I will put that jump in my next saga. The leap of the wolf it shall be called.”
“Good for that means we will survive this battle.”
“Of course we will. They are only Saxons, after all!”
This time once they were ready they prepared to charge. This would be the tricky part of the plan. “Boys! Fall back!” My slingers raced behind us. As soon as the wedge lumbered towards us we turned and ran back fifty paces. I had fought in a wedge. A run is not really a run, it is a fast walk but once it is started then it has to be continued until a halt is called. They charged and there was nothing before them. They passed my ship and I saw, as they did so, that two men tripped. We had left obstacles along the ground. The wedge began to break up.
“Now Aiden!” My voice carried over the field and Aiden, his slingers and his archers stood and loosed from the safety of ‘The Heart of the Dragon’. This time there were no shields to protect them. Aiden’s fifteen archers and slingers had the unprotected backs of the warriors. They turned to face the new threat.
“Charge!”
We had them so that we charged a wedge which had no shields facing us. They were warding off stones and shot. I stabbed one warrior while I punched a second with my shield. This time we were one solid band of iron and wood and we carved a trail of death through the side of the wedge. We were still heavily outnumbered but the Mercians were confused.
Timing in a battle is all and when Sigtrygg and the rest of my men, who had landed from ‘Great Serpent’ behind the Mercian lines, fell upon the rear of the wedge, then the battle was all but won. The final decisive part came when Iago led his horsemen around the rear of the other wedge. The weakest warriors in a wedge are those at the rear. The brave and those who seek glory are at the fore. Soon the Saxons of Mercia were fleeing up the river. Iago and his men pursued them as King Selfyn led his warriors down the hill to fall upon the Mercians. Many of those fighting us threw themselves into the river for we were cutting a swathe through their heart.
There was one warrior, in mail and with more courage than the rest, who tried to halt us by facing me. He had an axe and a red painted shield. He rushed at me and swung his axe overhand. It was similar to my blow which had killed their leader. I held up my shield and, as the axe struck it, allowed the shield to drop and deflect the axe head to the side. The move opened him up and I made a backhand slash with my sword. It tore across his open face. Blood spurted and he stepped back. I swung forehand. His reactions were good and the shield came up. I stepped forward and pushed my shield towards his damaged, bleeding face. He jerked his head back and I thrust Ragnar’s Spirit through his open, screaming mouth. He became still and slumped to the floor, his body sliding from my blade.
All order had now gone from the Mercians and they ran in every direction. Those who jumped in the river were either dragged down by the weight of the arms or my archers slew them. The day was ours!
My men knew the value of being the ones to strip the bodies, especially Saxons, of arms. Saxons liked to keep their treasures about them and soon we had a pile of weapons and armour. The treasures the warriors found they would keep. It was their reward for fighting. It was why they sailed with me. Many Viking leaders wanted all the treasure so that they could share it out. My way kept my warriors loyal. Many became rich men that day.
The men of Gwent pursued the Mercians for miles up the river. I did not blame them. The Mercians had chased them and revenge is sweet. It meant that we had the field to ourselves and the weapons and armour were loaded on the boats in a short time. After we had disposed of the Saxon dead in the river we dug a barrow for our dead. Erik the Tall and Eystein Foul Fart had both perished. Erik had been one of the first Ulfheonar and his loss was hard to bear. The others who had fallen were given as much honour. We built the barrow at the foot of the hill where we had made our line. The men of Gwent returned as we were placing the last sods on the top. They watched as we bowed our heads in silence. Each warrior said his own goodbyes.
The king and Iago waited for me as my men went to the ships to remove their armour. Iago nodded approvingly, “You are efficient Norseman. The dead buried, the enemy moved and your men preparing for their next task. You have done this before.”
“We have done this before.”
The king clasped my arm. “Thank you for your service today. Why not continue to serve me? We can pay you well.”
I had seen little evidence of wealth amongst the King’s elite. That was always a good measure of the riches of a land. Each one of my men had more gold and silver than all of the horsemen put together. “No, your majesty, for some day you would tire of us or you would not wish to pay us longer. Besides, I like to be my own master.”
Iago looked at me and his eyes examined me closely. “This is why you wanted your plan.”
I shrugged, “I knew that it would work.”
“Well then, if you would come to my capital, Casnewydd, I will send for the iron you want although I thought you would have wanted gold and silver. The fortress is a few miles down the river. It is close to the old Roman fort.”
“Do not worry, your majesty, we can get more gold and silver when we want. We need the iron; the gold is a luxury. We also have other trade goods. You may wish to barter. When we have washed and cleaned our weapons we will sail down the river to your capital.”
We watched the army as it trudged west. They looked to be in better heart than when we had first seen them but the battles of the past two days and their marching had made them tired. Our journey down the fast flowing Sabrina would be much easier and quicker. I had no doubt that we would arrive before the king.
My warriors, especially those for whom this was their first raid, were in high spirits. Trygg and Siggi, in particular were impressed with my small band of elite warriors. They plagued them with questions about their weapons and armour.
After I had bathed in the river and dressed in clean clothes I supped some ale with them. I decided to suggest a way in which they could become part of my army. “Perhaps you could train your men to be archers.”
Trygg looked a little put out. He said, hesitantly, “We would be warriors first.”
“Those with bows are warriors. They fight the enemy. Had we not had them today then we might have los
t.” He did not look convinced and I had to be blunt. “You and Siggi were brought up to be sailors. That is a good trade. Your brother had some training as a warrior.” I waved a hand at the men around me. “These were brought up from being babes to fight. Arturus, my son, has killed more than ten men in battle. He is good at what he does. Do not change your nature. I suggest being archers so that you can aid us and defend yourselves. All of us have a part to play in our people.”
They seemed happy with my explanation. And I had not lied. They were good sailors and they knew how to get the best from their knarr. My son and I could not sail them as well but we could kill.
Chapter 16
We stayed three days with the men of Gwent. They were keen to trade but they also wished to learn about our skills as warriors. Iago, in particular, was keen to improve his own warriors’ skills. “Your weapons are superior to ours. Where did you acquire them?”
“Most in Frankia but we will be making some. The one we gave your king was one we made.”
That interested both Iago and the king. He had been quite touched by the gift. We did not tell him that it was a trial weapon. It was stronger and sharper than the ones they had. He had been delighted by the gift. “We will trade more of the iron ore when next you come.” The king had almost pleaded, “You will return, will you not?”
“My ships will return.” We had exhausted their supplies of iron and I knew it would take them some time to mine more.
As we headed west I felt satisfied with the venture. It had been highly profitable for us. We had had to spend none of the gold or the jewels and we had a hold full of iron ore. The heavily laden knarr meant it was a slow voyage along the south coast of Cymru. It was almost night time when we turned north. A sudden squall blew up from the west and we had to reef our sails. Aiden scanned his map. “My lord, there is a sheltered anchorage not far from here.”
“Where away?”
“We should see it soon!”
“We had better or Trygg will capsize and our iron will end up in the hands of Ran!”
