by Smith, Skye
The men in the bow with the shipwright were not making much headway against the bog iron shackle or against the bog iron pivots, despite the extreme force and weighted hammers. Suddenly the shipwright screamed bloody murder and disappeared. The man on the steering oar had seen what had happened. "Stones,” he said, "they are lobbing their ballast stones down on the men."
What had begun as just one stone, became a volley. Marks men were retreating save for one lad with a long pry bar who was worrying the chain's shackle. There were no targets for the archers, for the stones were being rolled over the edge without a head to be seen. Mark would have ordered the oarsmen to back away, except that all his men save the lad with the pry bar were safely out from under, and the lad was protected by the curve of the cogs hull.
And then there was the ghastly sound of splintering wood. A massive boulder had been rolled through a gateway and over the edge and down onto the port hull. Then there was another one and another shriek of timbers and planking. And then another.
Now there was another sound. The lad had won against the shackle. The steering chain was hanging loose. The cog's rudder was useless. Even though the chain on the other side of the rudder was still in place, you cannot push with a chain. "Tell him to get back aboard,” Mark yelled down the ship. He turned to the oarsmen. "On my signal back like your life depends on it.” The lads feet touched the deck and he called "Back, Back, Back."
Another boulder rolled over the edge of the cog's deck and crashed down onto the port hull and then they were out from under the curve of the cog's hull.
A mate came dancing back to the stern between men and oars and aimed bows. "The shipwright is done for. He took that first stone in the skull. The planking in the bow of the port hull has been splintered. We are taking on water. Fast."
Both the shipwright and Raynar had warned Mark about this. If one of the hulls was swamped, it would not sink but it would ride so low that it would drag the other hull down. There was only one act that would save the men. Delay the sinking of the split hull by lifting all weight off it. He looked at the mate. "Get everyone, and I mean everyone, onto the starboard hull and tell them to take every thing with them that they can carry."
He himself was standing on the port hull, so his entire helms crew ran and skipped and leaped to the other hull and the other steering oar. "Starboard oars ahead slowly,” he had to turn the ship so that the damaged hull was windward and then raise the sail to lift the damaged hull high in the water.
"Any chance of plugging the leaks,” he yelled to the lad that had been helper the poor dead shipwright.
"Not without the old man,” the lad yelled back, almost in tears, "I wouldn't know where to start."
With both the huge cog and the twinhull now helplessly drifting, Mark's mission was done. Now he had to save his crew. Unfortunately, turning the twinhull and hoisting the sail meant that they were drifting quite quickly. Away from the Cog's crossbows to be sure, but towards a bleak looking rock of an island near to a village on the east shore. The dead hull was no longer a dead weight. Perhaps they could steer for the beach. He looked along the shoreline. It was all cliffs and rock.
The shipwright’s lad now stood beside him. It was the same lad who had used the pry bar on the rudder chain. "Good work, lad. I'm sorry about your dad. Do you have any ideas for getting us out of this mess."
"He was my uncle, not my dad. He said that as a last resort you must take an axe to all the spars, starting with the big ones amidships. Forget the lashings, forget the pins, for if you do not release them all at the same time the spars will splinter the hulls. He said to chop the spars just outside the gunnels of the best hull."
"Right lad, make it so. Go, go, use as many men as you need, but choose the foresters, for those spars are tree trunks and it will take fast axe work to cut them."
"The snekkjas are almost upon us,” yelled one of the three men now struggling with the steering oar.
Mark looked around. The two snekkjas that had been losing the race to the cog with Raynar were changing course. They were no longer in Raynar's wake. They were now on an intercept course with his crippled twin hull. They must not realize that the Cog no longer had rudder control. They must think that the Cog had beaten his twin hull and would beat Raynar's, so now they were closing in to finish his crippled ship off.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Forest Law by Skye Smith
Chapter 32 - The battle of Tamara Sound, Cornwall in October 1103
"The two snekkjas are changing course,” yelled Henry from the steering oar.
Raynar stopped looking at the Cog and at Mark's ship, and swung around to check on the snekkjas. "That doesn't make sense,” he said to the men around him. "They should stay with us and harry us so that we are not free to attack the Cog."
One of the mates spoke up, "We are blocking their view of the Cog. All they can see is that the Cog has beaten Mark and now Mark is crippled and drifting. Unless you are as close as us, you would not see that rudder chain hanging, or the men trying to steer the ship with the sweeps."
"Bugger,” Raynar hissed. "Change of plan. The Cog is now helpless. Those snekkjas don't know it, but they are the only hope the skipper of the Cog has. They are the only ships other than ours with the force of oars great enough to tow them to a dock."
"I take it we are going to cripple some snekkjas,” replied the mate.
"Damn rights we are. Give the warning to prepare to come about and the orders to prepare to fight the snekkjas,” he walked to the steering oar and told the men there, "On my order change course and mow those snekkjas down. Where is the other snekkja?"
"Just finishing fishing the men out of the water. She is so overloaded that she has to make for the closest shore to drop men off before she comes after us,” said the mate, "Aye, there she goes. She is making for the far bank."
"Those snekkjas are still downwind of us, cap'n,” observed the navigator. "Near as I can say we are moving five knots faster than they. We will be onto the closest before they can reach Mark."
Raynar was silent, calculating, planning. He turned to the mates who had come seeking new orders. To the oars-mate he said "Pull our oars in but leave ten oarsmen on each side ready to push them out again.” To the archery mate he said, "Put all the archers on the port hull. I will come up on the closest ship on their starboard flank. Your target is their on-side oarsmen. They will be hard to hit because the gunnels will protect them, but get some of them for sure. Let the men at the steering oar live for now."
"Hurry to it lads,” said the old shipwright. "We are closing fast.” And they were. Though the snekkja was a similar size to each of the hulls of the twin hull, it was weighted down with ballast and could not get up on the swells and surf like the twin hull was doing. The shipwright had told them that by putting the two hulls together the speed of the ship was the same as a ship twice it's length, that is, about half again as fast as the original single hull.
At fifty paces the archers loosed ranging shots. The only thing they hit was the gunnels and the personal shields that some oarsmen had slotted into the gunnels. At thirty paces they loosed again, and this time at least four of the starboard oarsmen slumped over their oars. The injured men's oars tangled the other oars and the rhythm was lost and the snekkja veered in front of them.
Raynar was standing beside the steering oar. Now he helped push it hard over and the twin hull also turned slightly. The bow of the port hull was now running along the hull of the snekkja and snapping oar after oar of their starboard bank. Inside the hull of the snekkja, there was carnage amongst the oarsmen as the heavy oars beat them with inhuman force before they cracked and broke.
The archers were now close enough to make every arrow count. Half the men on the ship sprouted arrows. Most of the arrows were snagged by the men’s sheepskins, but they still touched flesh enough to cause pain, injury, or death. None of the men on the steering bridge survived.
The othe
r snekkja, seeing the abrupt and easy slaughter of their sister ship, turned hard and went back to their original course towards the Cog. Raynar gave the order to follow them, but now the advantage had changed.
They were now down wind from the Cog and the snekkja had already dropped its sail and had every man on the oars. The twin hull had been running with both sails and now they had to drop both of them, and do it without getting the rigging tangled. This took time. Meanwhile every archer was running to find his sea chest. A man's sea chest was his seat while he rowed. By the time they pushed out all the oars and made the first coordinated sweep of the oars, the snekkja had almost reached the Cog.
Even with all the oar positions filled, and despite the speed effect of the twin hulls and the lack of ballast weight, they could not move as fast as the snekkja under oar. Amazingly, when the snekkja reached the Cog it did not throw tow lines to it. Instead men began clambering down from the cog onto the snekkja.
The twin hull was now within five hundred paces of the cog and closing with every stroke of the oars. Henry came to stand beside Raynar. "What are they doing?"
"I can't say for sure,” said Raynar, "but I think the men getting into the smaller ship are the nobs. If I am right, then they are either abandoning the cog for the safety of shore, or they are going to make a run for Normandy in that snekkja. Either way, they will leave the cog for us. A rich prize, and its cargo even richer, I would think."
"Can you see Mortain?” asked Henry. He was now struggling to keep his balance because Raynar was pulling at the arrows slung over his back, and weighing them in his hand.
"Lend me your bow,” said Raynar curtly, and once Henry had surrendered it to him, Raynar walked quickly towards the bow of the ship. Henry followed close on his heels.
"This is a fancy bow, Henry, with its carving and silver rings,” said Raynar as he ducked under one of the immense spars that connected the two hulls. "Has it any power."
"Not so much as a longbow, for it is designed to be used from the saddle. More than any ordinary self bow."
"That is what I thought,” said Raynar as he stepped up to the small bridge at the bow. There were no other archers there other than Henry. The rest were manning the oars. Now they were within two hundred paces of the Cog. Raynar chose the heaviest arrow and nocked it and drew it fully, aimed and loosed. The arrow bounced harmlessly off the hull of the cog and into the sea.
Again he nocked an arrow, drew it and aimed. This time he aimed at the man scrambling down the netting to step into the snekkja. He held his breath and gauged the movement of the bow as it rose due to a swell or the next pull of the oars, and then dropped again. He loosed. The man stopped scrambling for a few seconds and twisted slightly in the netting, an arrow lodged in his back, and then he fell the rest of the way to the ship.
"Nice shot,” Henry whistled, "was that Mortain?"
There was a flurry of activity on the cog and on the snekkja and the man who should have been next to scramble down, changed direction and climbed back into the cog. The seamen at the bow of the snekkja, who were holding the hulls close together, now pushed them apart. The snekkja drifted away from the cog until the oars were free of it, and then the oars took up a beat and began to pull away, turn, and the snekkja moved quickly towards the eastern passage out of the sound.
"I would say not,” replied Raynar, "Mortain must be on that snekkja else it would not be making for Normandy.” He turned towards the men at the steering oar and motioned them to follow the snekkja. Then he handed the bow back to Henry, and began walking and hopping towards the stern.
"No,” yelled Henry at his back, "you cannot give chase.” Raynar ignored him and kept walking. "Stop and talk to me,” Henry yelled at his back.
"There is only one skipper on a ship,” Raynar called back to him, "and this one is going to kill that bloody Mortain."
Henry ran to him and grabbed him by the elbow and swung him around. "Fine, do that, but help them first,” he pointed to Mark's ship, which was now perilously close to a reef near to a small island. "Or is Mortain's death worth their lives?"
Raynar pulled himself out of Henry's grasp. Henry kept yelling at him. "They are faster than you under oar. You may never catch them. But you can certainly save that ship and those men, your men, and save the Cog and the men on it too. Turn around."
The oarsmen within ear shot looked at this display of temper against the captain with alarm. They were waiting for the order to throw the crewman overboard, the usual swift punishment for those who would not accept the order of a captain.
"Raynar, there are two dozen good men at risk of drowning,” said Henry, "let him go.” It was his last bit of reasoning before he would demand the obedience due a king.
"But what will I tell Mary? I will have let Mortain escape, again."
"Women are constantly disappointed by men. That is every woman's fate. Believe me, this disappointment will be quickly replaced by other disappointments by other men. Probably by me, or by her husband."
Raynar had reached the steering deck. Henry was standing staring at him with his hands on his hip in the center of the oarsmen.
"Come about,” he told the man steering, "set a course for Mark's ship,” and then yelled to the oarsmen, "Port oars back, back, back.” Both commands had been expected by the crew. The ship had no sails set, so it spun quickly on the crest of the next swell. Raynar looked back towards Henry. If the king had not been ordered him to save Mark's crew, he would have thrown him overboard. Though Robert and Henry both wanted Mortain in chains, Raynar wanted him in Normandy. Mortain escaping with just the clothes on his back, had always been his best outcome, despite Mary's plea to kill him.
Raynar's desires had not changed in thirty years. He would always choose the outcome that would best set Norman against Norman. In this case this meant having Belleme and Mortain alive and ripping Normandy to pieces. He sighed. He was too old for this. At this rate he would never see England once again ruled by the English. Not in his lifetime.
THE END of Forest Law
Look for more adventures in Queens and Widows.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Forest Law by Skye Smith Copyright 2010-13
