by Smith, Skye
"Prisoners are always a problem," grunted Rodor, "Worse when they are foreign mercenaries. If we set them free and tell them to leave the shire, they will need a strong escort else they will loot our villages as they go. If we leave them with the abbot, he will re-arm them and have his force back, only this time they know our faces and our tactics. I suppose that we could hand them over to Hereward, but then he would have the problem and we would have solved nothing."
"Sell them to Sweyn," suggested Raynar. "He has trading ships plying the North Sea. They all need oarsman. If they are split up, say one per ship, they can cause no trouble." Neither Alan nor Rodor seemed to understand his idea. Of course, neither of them were coastal people. They had no understanding of ships or of the North Sea trade.
"Selling them would make us into slavers," Rodor shuddered.
"Tomorrow I will speak of it with Hereward," replied Raynar and then he was quiet while he pieced together all of things that he must remember for the morning. "I will ask the Prior to have his monks do a proper job of burying the dead that we left at the ford. They will be stinking soon. If the monks march with the axemen, then the axemen can help them dig a trench before we cross the ford."
"I will tell the axemen with armour to cut their hair and beards short," Rodor replied. "It was probably their beards that gave us away today. I mean, just in case Hereward wants to try the same disguise tactic in Huntingdon." Rodor watched Raynar's eyes become cunning. So he hadn't thought of it. He threw the lad a smile as he turned away to enter a barn filled with the stink and noise of men.
"I am certainly glad that both you and Rodor have learned some French," Raynar told Alan. "I wish more of our men would learn it. The Normans refuse to learn English, and I don't trust translators."
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The Hoodsman - Blackstone Edge by Skye Smith
Chapter 23 - The surrender of Huntingdon in May 1070
Raynar looked behind him along Ermine Street at the ninety axemen wearing the abbot's armour. They were still marching. He doubled back and again told them to stop, and to stay here out of sight of any towers that may be in Huntingdon.
Each squad of thirty had elected a leader, and he called the leaders to him and repeated that they were not to approach Huntingdon until they were sent for. That they may again have to play the role of the abbot's men. Finally his meaning got through their excitement and exuberance. The capture of the armour had made them all rich, well, rich for them, and had turned them from fyrd axemen and farmers, into warriors with armour. All ninety men were feeling elated.
The other thirty axemen, the ones who still looked like fyrd axemen because they were still without armour, were the only ones to follow Raynar and his five Hoodsmen. They left the street and marched along a well rutted cartway that led to the south east. After less than a mile, some English scouts spotted them, and were friendly to the obviously English force, and relieved that they were not Normans. All was good. They were Hereward's men.
Hereward was joyous to see Raynar, but his welcome was cut short by his disappointment at how few bowmen he had brought with him. Raynar pulled him aside from other ears and told him of the situation at Peterburgh and of the disguised force that waiting for orders on Ermine Street north of Huntingdon.
They had much to talk about and many adventures to catch up on, but there was no time. The battle for the bailey was in progress and it was not going well for Hereward. They rode together towards the bailey with the bowmen as a guard. Raynar got in two questions before they arrived at the front line where the other commanders were waiting for orders.
To the question about prisoners, Hereward suggested selling them to Sweyn as bonded oarsmen, but for a token amount only. A token bond would be quickly worked off by each man, meaning that they could choose to go home and continue their lives after less than a season on the oars.
To the question about the treasure, Hereward suggested that they take away all that was not the Abbey's and bury it somewhere in secret, safe from both Danes and Normans. Hereward and Raynar both agreed that Edgar's silver should be used to help the English folk, as Margaret and Cristina had asked. Whatever happened, they must keep the coin out of William's hands and use it against him instead.
When they reached the front line, the outlaw commanders looked at Hereward expectantly, hoping for a better plan than they had used that morning. They had tried to set fire to the poles of the new bailey wall, but there was water a plenty in the bailey and the Normans had no problem in dousing them. Even their attempt to take the burgh wall had failed because the Normans had rebuilt it to be more than just an earthwork. It too had poles filling the holes in the tumbled down earthworks.
There was only one weakness in the burgh wall. There were thatch roofs very close to them. Though Hereward really did not want to burn the houses of the folk of the town, it seemed like he would have no choice. In this case the tactic was obvious and he was being pressed to do it to save the lives of those who would be charging the walls.
If they could just capture the burgh, they would have more cover when attacking the bailey that was built at one end of it. Moreover, once they held the burgh walls they would control the low wooden bridge that the traffic of three main Roman streets used to cross the River Great Ouse.
Raynar looked at the fortifications and thought aloud as he gently pushed his horse through the axemen. He voiced his own opinion, "There is no shortage of water, so a long siege or a burn will not work. The burgh walls are close enough to the bridge to command it, or allow rapid attacks upon it, so the burgh walls must be taken."
He was thinking of the tactics that the hoodsman, Eadric, had used in Warwick last year. "The new bailey is surrounded by a ditch and will be costly to take. Is there a need to take it? There is certainly no hurry to take it. If we control the burgh and the bridge, and we use their own ditch to trap them in the bailey, then time is on our side."
"That is our thinking also," said Hereward who also staying mounted, and was keeping his fine Frisian stallion close to Raynar's nag. "Whatever we do we must take the burgh, which means firing that thatch and then charging through what is left of the pale wall once the fire has died."
"I have another way. A way that may cost us few lives." He dismounted and the commanders formed a ring starting at his shoulder so that each could see all others. "I hold Peterburgh. I took it yesterday from the abbot. He lost many men and I few." He had to stop talking because the commanders were stunned and then elated by the news.
"Last evening the bailiff from this bailey sent a courier guarded by ten men to ask the abbot for a relief column. That message came to me, as by then I held the burgh and the abbey. Today I brought one hundred and twenty Danelaw axemen here. Ninety have trimmed their beards and are wearing the mail and helmets captured from the abbot's men."
There was excited chatter around the ring and he had to wait for it to calm. Then he told his plan. There was laughter and cheers at it's guile and simplicity. There was still long hours of daylight left so it was decided. The plan would start now.
Hereward hugged him and gave him a boost into the saddle. "It is no wonder I am always glad to see your stubborn face. It hides a cunning mind." He looked over the heads of his commanders at the other Hoodsmen and had to laugh. "I see you had to bring the lad."
"I tried leaving her, ugh, him in Peterburgh. He just threatened to follow me. It's safer if she, er, he rides beside me."
Raynar pulled Abby around and led his five Hoodsmen back to Ermine street along the cartway. Once there he gathered all the men about and explained the plan. "Now then. Form ranks as if you are Normans and let's march as smartly as they do."
The scouts and the commanders were mounted. The Hoodsmen took the lead with the scouts. Within the hour they could hear the sounds of battle. They came within sight of the bridge and the river and to the left was the burgh wall and its main gate.
The gate was under attack by about thirty of Hereward
’s axemen. They were carrying some light weight roofs that were likely to have been lifted off sheds and sty’s. They were made of layers of sedge. With the roofs as a shield from above, they were trotting towards the gate.
Hereward's intentions were obvious. As long as the roofs held together, the axemen would use their axes against the wood of the gates to turn them into tinder. Once the roofs were no longer cover enough, the axemen would quickly retreat, but leave the roofs to become fuel for a bonfire against the gate. Raynar halted long enough for his ninety axemen to catch up and then on his word they raced towards Hereward’s men pantomiming as if they were the abbot's men.
At the sight of the abbot's men, the axemen at the gate ran, and the abbot's men gave chase. Everyone had been warned not to land true blows. All sides were to treat it as if it were weapons practice. A mighty cheer went up from the defenders on the wall.
At his signal the rest of Hereward’s force of refugee axemen came streaming and screaming out of the bushes, pounding their wooden shields with their forest axes. There were hundreds of them. The abbots men were forced to retreat so as not to get cut off from the cartway to the gate. Hereward’s men halted fifty paces from them and formed a solid line, while those in the rear caught up to them. Then they charged.
On the wall above the gate, the Normans could easily see the outcome of such uneven odds and gave orders to swing open the gates and then yelled at the abbots men to run for the safety of the gate. They obliged.
Twenty of the wall's defenders came through the gate and lined up on both sides of it with pikes to give cover to the rear guard of the abbots men. Some arbalesters were sending their bolts from the wall to keep Hereward's axemen at bay.
The abbot's ninety armoured men ran in one solid phalanx through the gate, and then the slaughter began. Every Norman inside and outside and around the gate fell to their axes before any realized that they had been betrayed. Moments later hundreds of Hereward's axemen poured through the open gates and that part of the battle was over. The burgh wall was won.
The Normans on other sections of the burgh wall were looking on in horror. Now there was a race to the bailey gate between Hereward's mounted men, and the Normans who were streaming down from the burgh walls. The gates slammed shut to stop the mounted men from holding them open and caught thirty Normans on the wrong side of it.
The mounted Englishmen did not attack them. They were not cavalry, but mounted infantry. They did not want to risk their precious horses. Besides, it took mere moments for the running axemen to close the distance and by that time the Normans caught outside the gate had thrown down their weapons and had knelt to the ground.
The axemen stopped their charge, not because the stranded Normans had surrendered, but because there was a withering cover of crossbow bolts from the bailey wall above the gate. Any thoughts the Normans had of keeping the axemen at bay with the bolts while their stranded men slipped through the gate ended, however, when Hereward’s bowmen trotted through the ranks of axemen.
Hereward yelled at the stranded men in French that they should move away from the gate and form with the other prisoners in the central square of the burgh. When they delayed, he gave the order for a weak volley of arrows to hit the ground around them. The stranded men looked longingly at the gate, so close, and at the men on the walls keeping them covered, but they had no choice. They left their weapons on the ground and shuffled towards the axemen.
Raynar had found another problem. The battle madness was coursing through the veins of the fighters and yet there had been little actual fighting to use up the rush of strength and power. Some of the axemen were now heading towards the houses of the town folk, and he assumed that it was not to tell them that they were now safe.
This was how pillage and rape began. Once started, it would quickly turn into ravagement beyond control. He called his hoodsmen away from Hereward and raced Abby towards the houses all the while yelling at the axemen to turn back towards the bailey. To leave the town in peace.
Raynar was the first to loose an arrow, only because he could fire his bow while mounted, though not with any accuracy. His first two arrows slammed into the dirt in front of the leaders of the errant axemen and got their attention. "The villagers are not to be worried," he yelled, "hurt them at your peril."
The axemen could hear the sounds of frightened women in the town and they were drawn towards the sound. The next arrow was Anske's and it went through a foot that was stepping in the wrong direction. The man dropped to the ground and howled in pain and anger.
"Please friends," yelled Raynar, "this has been a great victory over the Norman scum. Do not tarnish it now, else no one will sing of this day in the hall of heroes." The older men turned and nodded to each other. The younger men heard only the sounds of women and their battle lust kept them moving towards the sounds of women.
Raynar's bowmen had delayed them enough however. A squad of men in the abbot's mail saw what was happening, and saw that the man who had given them their armour was in trouble, and they now trotted over to stand between the axemen and the houses.
One of their elected leaders raised his voice, "These folk are our folk. They have been sorely taxed by the Norman bastards and that will stop now. That bowman speaks true, and we will help him to defend these folk. Believe with your very soul, that he will drop you with his arrows before you can lay hands on a single woman."
Raynar signaled his thanks to the leader. The leader gave him a brotherly smile back. And why not. Raynar of the Peaks had given him a horse and a fortune in armour and weapons and all for less risk to his life than hunting venison.
The axemen had now stopped moving towards the houses. The number of men in mail was growing by the minute and they all seemed to be under the command of the bowman on the nag. One of the elder men shouted out. "Fuck, we will be missing out on the division of the armour and weapons. Bugger this lot." and he turned and ran towards the burgh gate where other axemen were stripping bodies. The other axemen followed close on his heels.
"Yorkies," said the elected leader in a Lindsey brogue and with a shrug of his shoulders, "animals in battle and in bed. I hope this town realizes how close they came to tragedy. Just in case, we will stay here as guard. After all, we already have our armour. You get back to Hereward at the bailey and don't worry about the townsfolk."
As the Hoodsmen turned their horses and rode back towards the bailey, orders were given to knock on each door to tell the town folk that they were safe and guarded, but that they should stay behind bolted doors at least until the morning.
Meanwhile, in the open land in front of the bailey gate, Hereward was in a rage. The axemen had been beating the prisoners that resisted giving up their armour. He waded through the crush of men who were all trying to claim weapons and armour for themselves. He pushed men down from behind as he went.
His own personal guards were not fast enough to follow him and the crush closed behind him, and separated them from Hereward. When finally Hereward had pushed through to where the prisoners were cowering under blows he grabbed the shaft of an axe that was held high ready to strike. The axeman was ready to bring it down on a prisoner's head, so Hereward pulled it backwards with all his might and the axeman holding it was upended backwards. The axeman's mate turned in reaction and took a swing at the interloper.
Anske had seen trouble brewing as they rode towards the center grounds. She yelled a warning to the other Hoodsman, but she was a better rider than any of them, and with the grace that made it look like rider and mount were dancing together, she pranced her nag sideways to create a crooked but wide pathway through the crush of men.
Raynar had not the expertise to follow her without injuring the men in the crush, so instead he stood in his Norman style stirrups and yelled orders to the men in front of him to back off and to clear the way. Turning to see who was yelling, the men in front saw the horsemen behind the crush and began pushing sideways to get out of the way. The horses could be stolen Norman m
ounts and they had all heard tales of how the Norman's trained their horses to be vicious in crowds.
Anske eventually could dance no closer to the prisoners, but being mounted and closer, she could see over the heads of the crowd of axemen to the spectacle of the beating of the prisoners. She spotted Hereward playing tug of war with an axe.
It came to her that these men must not recognize Hereward for who he was, the siege commander. Her bow was still strung from the battle, and now she knocked an arrow and stood in her stirrups so that she could draw the bow without being hampered by the neck of her nag or the side posts of the farmer's saddle.
With the head of the axe he was pulling on, Hereward was able to block another axe that was being swung at him. The two axes crashed together with a glancing connection and Hereward let go just in time to stop his fingers being sheared by the blade as it ran down the handle. The axeman on the ground now grabbed at his leg and cursed him foully.
The axeman's mate was still in his battle fury and was moving with practiced footwork. He stepped one step backwards to shorten the back swing of his axe and was preparing to swing it forward again at the interloper. The arrow plunged through his open mouth and blew out the back of his neck. The weight of the moving axe dragged the body around in a macabre spiral dance to the ground spurting a fountain of blood over everyone nearby.
Seeing Anske loosing an arrow had Raynar knocking an arrow immediately. He didn't know what her shot was, but his arrow was covering her. The other mounted Hoodsmen were now frantically swapping their long bows for their short bows so that they could shoot from the vantage of the saddle.
The crush of men were pulling back from the hoodsmen more quickly now. There was yelling from the center of the crush, but it was just confused words above the general clamor of the men to leave the crush.
