Sword for Hire (Border Wars Book 1)

by Hosker, Griff

  The jarl smiled, “This is good. When spring comes we will visit your home and see what can be salvaged.”

  Sverre said, “We recovered the jarl’s mail, lord, his sword and his shield. They were in the hut of the chief.”

  Birger nodded his approval, “Then you have made a good start to becoming a knight. Now let us make the journey back to Stock Holm for I have had enough of this debatable land.”

  It took four days to reach home. We had more snow and six of the rescued captives died. They had been ill-treated and despite the best efforts of Brother Harald, they could not be saved. Our horses had also suffered. Skuld’s ribs showed through.

  As we neared Stock Holm I said, “We will not ride again this winter.”

  My friend said, “Probably not.”

  “No, that was not a question. We will not ride again this winter for if we do we will kill our animals and the horses we have are the best in this land until Gonfanon can sire colts and fillies. We have lost too many men.” I waved a hand behind me. “You and The Jarl Birger Brosa have lost more men than you bring back. You have paid for me to advise you. Defend what you have! Spend the next year, perhaps two, building up your armies and a castle. You rely too much on the water. The water can only defend you so far. The rest depends upon men of steel on good horses.”

  “You are right. It is just that I feel I wasted all those years in the Holy land. I could have been here.”

  “I thought that too but they were not wasted. They helped to prepare us for this. And for me it is important that my men and I learn while we are here for when I return home, to England, I have an equally daunting task facing me. I have to save England! My great grandfather did so. I had thought that we would never need to repeat his feats. I can see that I am wrong. When knights are no longer vigilant then it is the people and the land which suffer. My father made one mistake in his life. He went to the Holy Land. My grandfather went to the Holy Land and it was the best of decisions. I hope that I have made a good one by coming here.”

  Birger looked back to Fótr chatting easily to William. “Of that there is no doubt.”

  The Stone Walls of Kastelholm

  Chapter 13

  Lady Brigida was one of the kindest women I had ever met. By the time we returned to Stock Holm the freed captives had all been housed and clothed, and, even though it was winter, she had had her men erect halls. The converts were also housed. I am sure that one reason why they became truly Christian was because of the jarl’s wife’s kindness. She had had the snow cleared around the halls and was there to greet us when we arrived. There was genuine relief that we had survived and true sadness for our losses. When she heard of the deaths of Fótr’s family she ordered a mass to be said for them and she found some of her son, Phillipus’, clothes and gave them to him.

  That evening as we ate, courtesy of the Estonians for we slaughtered some of their animals, we told the jarl’s wife of the battles we had fought. We sanitized them for her but she needed to know why we had not brought any male prisoners back.

  “They fought to the death and those that did surrender intended to do us harm. I believe that the only hope for them is to be converted.”

  I saw the two brothers nodding.

  Jarl Birger Persson asked, “Have we had word from the king yet?”

  Lady Brigida shook her head, “The Queen is still close to death. Our daughter is a great comfort to him.”

  I had discovered, whilst we had campaigned, that, unlike England and France, the king was elected. Sverker was the second such named and he had replaced Knut Eriksson. Apparently, Knut Eriksson had a son but the Swedes, upon the advice of The Jarl Birger Brosa had chosen Sverker. It was no wonder that he was contemplating marrying as soon as his wife died. The daughter of The Jarl Birger Brosa would ensure that he would rule without fear of revolt or dissension.

  Over the next few months we and our horses recovered. Our beards had fully regrown and that was a comfort in the cold climate of Sweden. I had no more letters from home. Henry would only return when all threat of ice had abated. They had iron in abundance and good smiths. I helped them to design and make betters swords, mail and helmets for the men who would be campaigning with us when next we raided. I enjoyed it. There was an urgent need for such armaments. My new squire had mail but his father had been bigger than he and it had to be fitted for him. He needed a new helmet and his was the first which I designed. It was based upon mine. The open helmet with the nasal had some benefits but a full-face helmet gave more protection.

  Fótr proved to be a good squire. He listened and he remembered. He watched William. William was anxious for Fótr to become skilled for he would be able to share some of the duties. I knew that we needed more horses. Fótr did not have one. When Henry returned I would use some of my coin to buy more. I needed all of my men mounted. I had been surprised at just how much we had made from the sacked villages. The oil, skins and furs yielded a great deal of coin from the markets of Brabant and Brugge. I made sure that all of my men benefitted from the raids. They deserved to be in profit too. It was not totally altruistic. They were already loyal and the money they had in their purses made them keen to follow me even more.

  I also spent time with Birger Persson. The island we had found would be his new home. He had already named it, Kastelholm. His money and further advances from the Jarl Birger Brosa had gone on hiring two masons and buying the stone that he would need. The building season in Sweden was a short one. Everything had to be ready. Work would begin as soon as the ground thawed enough for a spade. I sat with the masons and Birger talking through the features we would need. The island’s position meant that he did not need a high curtain wall. He could build a hall which was both high and could be seen from a long way away. Deterrence was as important as defence. The single gatehouse could be like a small castle. Birger and I liked the idea that the gatehouse could be defended by a small number of men.

  The stone would be ready before the snows had melted. We would build the causeway and causeway bridge first. The masons would use slaves to lay the causeway. The bridge would be made of wood and already there were huge trees, felled before winter which were being prepared by being soaked in pine tar. Carrying them and working on them would not be a pleasant task. The slaves would rue the day they were captured.

  Work did not stop on Stock Holm. The Jarl Birger Brosa had his own masons. He had a stone hall almost complete and they were now working on his wall. It would dwarf Kastelholm. The new work drew in men who saw an opportunity to serve a lord. Many were crusaders returned from a land which was now hostile to them. None were English but there were Danes, Norse, Swedes and even Rus. The Jarl Birger Brosa was lucky enough to recruit four former Teutonic Knights. They brought their own squires and sergeants. They became his personal bodyguards. I had discovered that The Jarl Birger Brosa was a very rich man. My friend said that he was the richest man in Sweden. His wife’s fortune had been added to that of his already wealthy family. It explained both his power and his ability to build imposing structures.

  Stock Holm became more of an armed camp. It was a direct contrast to the place I had first seen almost half a year earlier. When Henry arrived at the end of March I was ready for news from home. Soon I would be leaving Stock Holm. I had written a letter to my aunt explaining and outlining my plans. I did not want her to worry about the lack of news. Henry handed me a letter and I gave him coin for more horses. He knew what I wanted.

  I asked him about home. He shook his head, “The king needs to be home and not fighting in Normandy. People are suffering. The Welsh and the Scots raid at will. Some sea captains told me that the Irish have started slave raids in the west. Taxes are too high and people are starving. I am afraid that the valley is not a happy place. People talk of the days of the Warlord and his son.”

  “Not my father?”

  “I am sorry, lord. Your father’s departure is viewed as the cause of all the woes the people suffer.”

  “And m
e?”

  He laughed, “You are spoken of as a ghost, a phantom. They speak of the knight who flew into the Bishop of Durham’s castle and killed him and all his guards.”

  “But I did not!”

  “It matters not. Each time the story is told then the numbers increase. The fact that no one can find you adds to the legend. Prince John’s men and the Bishop’s guards ride the valley in tens and twenties for they fear smaller numbers would be slain by you. You are a myth and a legend at the same time. When one of the prince’s men is found dead or one of the bishop’s tax collectors die it is laid at your doorstep. I know it is not you and I tell people but they believe what they want to believe. The only one who does not seem to fear you nor search for you is Sir Richard of Stockton.”

  I hid a smile. It was obvious that Henry did not know of the connection. “I will return one day, Henry, that I swear. The time is not right. When King Richard tires of Normandy then I will come home and join with him to put England back together.”

  I did not know then that England had another seventeen years or more to suffer the privations of John Lackland.

  I took the letter and read it alone.

  ‘ Y ou know who you are and I hope you know that I think of you every day! Each night you are in my prayers.

  I am no longer alone. I have comfort and, after the death of my husband I never thought that I would. You were the cause of that and I thank you. It is strange the way our lives touch and then move on. The connection is never lost and the memories hold us together.

  K now that people in Stockton and the Tees valley speak of you and your return. You have become a mythical, legendary figure for the oppressed people of this land. I encourage it for it gives the people hope. When Prince John’s men are robbed or killed then you are given the credit. I know it is not you. I hope and pray that you are still safe. When my messenger returns, if he does not have a missive, I hope at least he knows that you are alive.

  xxx

  I was touched by the letter. It confirmed that Henry had, indeed, spoken the truth. I had already given my unsigned letter to Henry.

  I took my men with Jarl Birger Persson. With so many slaves working he would need plenty of eyes to watch them. He had recruited more men and The Jarl Birger Brosa sent four knights and their men at arms to assist in the construction of the castle and the defence of the workers. The Karelians had used the island for years. They would not take kindly to its loss.

  The rest had done the horses good. My men, too, with a healthy diet and plenty of exercise, were in prime condition. I was becoming used to this land. It had been a shock when we had first arrived, especially after the Holy Land, but now I saw its beauty.

  I rode with Birger Persson. The knights we had brought with us rode with the two warrior priests ahead of us. “Tell me, Birger, why have you never married?”

  “One of the reasons I was so willing to go on the crusade for Bishop Albert was because I was betrothed to be married and she died in an Estonian raid. They had taken my bride to be for ransom but she tried to flee and fell from her horse. Her skull was crushed.” He was silent. I knew that he was trying to compose himself, “I would have paid the ransom. I hunted down her abductors and Petr and I slew them all.”

  He had revealed more to me in that one sentence than in all the other conversations we had over the years. He said no more about it and I did not intrude. It explained much.

  We camped on the mainland side. The plan was to build the causeway and the bridge first. Once our camp was established I took my archers and my squires and we rode long patrols. I wanted to get a feel for the land as well as to discourage any Karelians or Estonians from raiding. We left each morning after we had broken our fast and returned each evening to be greeted by the smell of food being cooked.

  On the fifth day David said, “Lord, we are being paid to ride around the country, eat some of the best food I have ever eaten in my life and yet there are no enemies to fight? It seems almost dishonest.”

  Fótr had picked up our language quickly. He was both young and clever. Sometimes his idiom was incorrect but the men did not mind. “In this land, David of Wales, when danger comes it does not give you warning. It leaps from the night and rips your heart out. This appears peaceful but the heathens are watching us.”

  “You are certain?”

  He nodded, “My father had spotted the tracks of the Estonians who slew my family. He thought they would not risk such a target. He was wrong. Keep your wits about you, lord.”

  David laughed, “To be truthful, young master, I know that we have passed close by Estonians. I have smelled them. The grease and the food they eat make them stink. But he is right lord, I have yet to see one. They are good at hiding.”

  William said, “Perhaps they fear us.”

  “They do not know you, William. My father and his men did not use horses. It is your use of horses which confuses them. My father’s people would ride to war on horses and then dismount to fight. They fear the fact that you and the horse appear to be one.” He smiled shyly at me, “You, my lord, particularly so. I have watched you. She turns before you command her to.”

  “Skuld is special but William here understands his horse too. A knight who does not like horses is doomed to an early death. You will learn. You are my squire and it is our duty to teach you.”

  It took half a month to raise the causeway and then build the wooden bridge. At first it was a simple affair. It was just rough-cut planks which were raised and lowered by hand but it allowed us to move onto the island where we were more secure. We stayed to help the others clear the trees and to begin to build the castle. The slaves would be needed until midsummer. By then the sun would barely set and the masons wanted the slaves to work in shifts so that we could keep going all the time. We were given the task of digging the well. My great grandfather had been besieged and he never underestimated the effect of a good well. I enjoyed the challenge. I joined my men, stripped to the waist, and helped to dig.

  We had just struck water when one of the scouts we had sent out reported a fleet of Karelian ships approaching. He said he had spied them ten miles away. That gave us two hours at the most. Jarl Birger Persson was not surprised. He was just annoyed with the timing. We had our wooden wall erected. That had been easy. We had used the cleared trees and split them into four. Using sand and soil we had buried them around the island so that we had a barrier. The foundations for the curtain wall had been dug and the first layer of stones laid. Another month and we would have been defensible. As it was there was a danger that we could be driven from the island and the raiders would have a better base, thanks to us.

  Jarl Birger Persson knew our enemies better than I did. He sent a rider to head back to Stock Holm. He then had a guard created to watch the slave pen. He enlisted the masons and their assistants to help him. That left fifty of us to fight the Karelians. Once our rider had gone for help we raised the bridge to the mainland and we prepared for war.

  “We have fifteen archers. They have over a thousand arrows between them. If we can keep the enemy ships at bay we have a chance.”

  I shook my head, “Wrong, my friend. We let them come close.”

  “Are you mad? They pack their ships with warriors. We would be overwhelmed.”

  “The greatest fear of any sailor is fire. Their ships are made of timber. They have oiled ropes and hulls. They have canvas. We burn them!”

  “How?”

  “By letting them get close. We use two methods. The empty pots from the food we brought can be packed with burning coals. We tie a cord around the neck. We use our biggest warriors to hurl them like a war hammer into the ships. We make fire arrows and send them into their sails. Let them come close, for the closer they are then the more will die.” I pointed to the causeway. “They cannot come that way, can they?”

  “No.”

  “Then they have to come from the sea, the east. We have a wooden wall there. Array your men behind it. They will come to the s
hore to land. We hold them while Ridley the Giant and other strong warriors send our fire pots into their ships. We use our shields and our spears and we hold them.”

  He could not think of a better solution and he agreed.

  “Jarl, I see their sails. We do not have much time.”

  The pots were easy to fill with burning coals and to keep fed. It was the fire arrows which took time. We used seal oil impregnated cloths wrapped around arrow heads. David of Wales had made them before and he supervised. The rest of us took all of our spears and planted ourselves behind the wall. There was no fighting platform. The wall was the height of a man. The curtain wall which would be built would be more substantial. It would be much taller than a man. If they had come a year later they would have climbed the wooden wall and then been trapped in the ditch we had begun to build.

  I turned to Fótr. He had not fought with us before. “We want no heroes. When I look around after this battle I expect to see you standing behind me without wounds! These are barbarians. They are wild. Use your shield and your spear. Strike at flesh. If I shout for you to fall back then do so. We head for the foundations of the curtain wall. They will have to climb our new ditch.”

  He nodded. “Are you afraid, lord?”

  “A man who says he is not afraid before he goes into battle is lying and you do not trust him but that is not the question you mean. What you wish to ask me is do you think we will die?” He nodded. “Not this day. The enemy you fear is the one armed and mailed like you. The enemy who rides a horse as good as you and the one who has been trained as well as you. On that day, there is a chance that you may die.”

  William laughed, “But as Sir Thomas has trained you there would need to be four such men facing you.”

  I stared out to sea. The four Karelian ships were heavily laden with men and they were now less than a thousand paces from us. I smelled smoke as the pot throwers and the archers arrived. David used stones to make an improvised hearth and then a pot of coal was dropped upon it. He put more kindling on it and the flames leapt up. That would be the fire for the arrows.