by Griff Hosker
“Then they will be warning them of our arrows.”
We had marked out the ranges. Thorghest’s archers were not as good as mine but they could still send an arrow more than two hundred paces. We had marked out the ranges and used white stones to help our archers. From our lofty angle the arrows would plunge down on them. The ones without shields, and there were many of them, would have no protection. They began to array themselves. The men at the front had shields and I saw that they had all of their ponies on their left. They would be charging us.
A trio of horns sounded and the line began to move towards us. They moved quicker than a Viking warband might. The horses kept pace with them until they reached the first of our white stones. They knew what that meant. It was why they had men with shields at the front. The shields came up. As our arrows began to fall amongst them the ponies galloped towards us. They were fast. They tried to avoid the boggy areas but that just meant that they found the pits. Their numbers were thinned out as they approached us. They had javelins and they hurled them at us as they turned. Our shields came up and they thudded into them. One of Thorghest’s men was hit in the leg by one. He contemptuously reached down and hurled it back at the riders.
The men charging on foot also found the bogs and the pits but they just slowed down. It meant that our archers were able to hit more of them. The riders had shields and they leapt off their ponies to attack us. Our spears were longer than theirs. With locked shields, we punched forward. Some managed to block our strikes with their shields but many of us found flesh. These were tough men. I saw one speared in the eye and he still came on at us with the remains of it hanging down. Wearing no armour, it meant that any strike caused a wound. Even when they managed to hit one of us our mail saved us from serious damage. The surviving riders returned to their horses and galloped back down the slope.
I looked to the left and saw that the main body had reached Thorghest’s line. The warriors ran and leapt in the air. I saw one fall on to Thorghest’s hearth-weru’s shields. Even as he was speared in the leg he managed to bring down his sword and hack across the head of one of Thorghest’s oathsworn. All along the line others emulated the agile warrior. Men died but they caused holes to appear in Thorghest’s shield wall.
I turned and yelled, “Archers, concentrate on the men coming up the slope!”
We had to slow down the rate at which the Hibernians were joining the fight. They had the numbers to overwhelm us. This was a well-coordinated attack. They were in danger of breaking through. “Erik Ironshirt, take your men and bolster the line.”
“Aye jarl.” He waved his sword and his men followed him to the left.
I saw that Thorghest’s line was bowing. I was tempted to attack the enemy on the flank but I saw the horsemen reforming. They were going to attack again and we were down to a double line only. This time the horsemen knew where the traps were to be found and they avoided them but their ponies were a little more tired this time and they laboured up the damp ground.
I shouted, “On my command we step forward and punch. Those in the second rank go for the ponies!”
A falling horse could injure a rider and, more importantly, stop them advancing so close to us. There was more of a line this time. They had grown bold and they wheeled just five paces from us. As their arms were pulled back to throw I shouted, “Now!” And we all took four steps towards them. Their shields were towards us and so I aimed my spear at the nearest warrior’s leg. It went through his leg and into his horse just as Sven Finnison plunged his spear into the pony’s neck. It reared and fell, pinning the rider beneath it. It thrashed around and I heard the warrior scream.
“Back!” We all stepped back and this time there was a wall of bodies both equine and human. One of Ragnar’s men had been speared in the arm and he now stood in the second rank.
Erik Ironshirt and his men had bolstered Thorghest’s line. I watched the battle as the Hibernians recklessly fought warriors in mail. They seemed to have no regard for their own safety. Gradually the pressure weakened until a horn sounded three times and they pulled back. I looked at the sky. It was almost dusk. Would they try a night attack? We waited. I watched as they withdrew a couple of hundred paces and then made camp.
I turned to Ragnar, “I like not this. When Hibernians lose, they leave the battlefield. Why are these staying?”
“A night attack?”
“Possibly but the presence of those Vikings warriors worries me. Take charge here. Strip the dead of the javelins and place them shaft end down as a barrier in case they try to rush us at night. I will go and speak with Thorghest.”
When I reached my daughter’s husband I saw that they had taken losses. Three hearth-weru lay dead. Thorghest the Lucky had been lucky again. A spear had struck his cheek. Had it been to the left he would have been killed instead of just a scar. “Thank you for sending Erik Ironshirt, jarl. They made the difference. What is going on? I have never known them do this before.”
“Nor have I. Can you bolster your line here if I take Erik and his men with me?”
“Aye we can. We will do as you have done and place spears and javelins before us. They do not wear armour. It might give us warning. What do you intend?”
“I am going to the river gate. At the back of my mind is the thought that there might be a raid from the sea. That would explain why they wait.”
“Let us know if they are attacking and we will join you.”
“I will sound the horn once if it is an attack and three times if we need you.”
I did not lead my men back into the walls of Dyflin but, instead, I led them to the longphort. There were six old warriors who were guarding them. They had a fire on the banks of the river next to Magnus Axe Head’s old ship.
“Are you leaving Jarl Dragonheart?”
I shook my head, “No, I just had an itch I could not scratch.” I looked closely at the man, “You are Lars Red Head are you not? Did you not serve with Jarl Gunnstein Berserk Killer?”
He nodded, “Aye, Jarl. I fought with you and Jarl Gunnar Thorfinnson. They were good days.”
“And now you are back here?”
“This was where I was happiest. Of course,” he laughed, “I was younger then.”
“Tell me Lars you have an old head on your shoulders. Does everything feel right here? Do you sense danger?” Old warriors became old warriors by surviving when others did not. Often that was down to a sense you did not know you had.
He nodded, “I heard the battle and smelled blood for the wind is from the land yet my eyes were drawn to the sea. I smell ships. Have we won the battle?”
“We are winning. You have fought these men before. When they lose large numbers of men what do they do?”
“They go home. They sing themselves into a frenzy and then build up numbers to come again.”
“And if they stay on the battlefield?”
“The only time that happened was when they were being reinforced.” He looked to sea. “This way.”
“Perhaps. Erik Ironshirt have your men spread out. I want them to watch the sea.”
“For what, Jarl Dragonheart?”
“For drekar, Danes are coming.”
I settled down at the fire with Lars. I saw that they had moved ‘Fortune’ and ‘Heart of the Dragon’ further downstream. They were facing to sea. I turned and saw why. Magnus’ ship, ‘Eagle’s Claw’ , and the two adjacent ones were the closest to the gates. This berth was left free for new arrivals. “I will go and speak with my captain.”
Lars nodded, “We have some fish to cook. I will have it ready by the time you return. That is what happens to old warriors, Jarl Dragonheart. They learn to fish and watch the sun go down.”
I walked down the line of drekar. Most were empty. I knew that Erik and Olaf would be aboard their ships. ‘Fortune’ and ‘Heart of the Dragon’ were precious to them and they would let nothing untoward happen to them. Guthrum Arneson was on watch. He looked up in surprise at my approach, “Jarl, is
there a problem?”
“There may be. Where is Erik Short Toe?”
“He is with Olaf. They are playing fox and geese.”
“I will see them. Keep a good watch and let me know if you see or hear any ship coming upriver.”
Olaf and Erik were aboard ‘Fortune’ and playing with the hand carved bone. It was a game of the mind and strategy. They liked chess too but fox and geese had fewer pieces to lose. Like Guthrum they were surprised to see me. I told them what I had told Lars.
“You fear Klakke or Siggi Finehair will come?”
“It makes sense. With our warriors facing the Hibernians then the longphort is open to them. They could easily take ships or, worse, the walls of Dyflin.”
“The ships to seaward are all crewed as we are, Jarl Dragonheart. It is just the older ones they use for a quay which are not.”
“I have asked Guthrum to watch. I have Erik and his men by the older ships. Perhaps this is nothing and in the morning, I will just be a foolish old man who jumps at his own shadow.”
“More likely, jarl, you will have blood on your blade and treacherous heads on the wall.”
I headed back to Lars. A pot was on the fire and he stuck his seax in and speared a fish. He plopped it on a wooden board. He smiled, “I prefer my fish less burned. This is an easier way to cook them and we have soup for the morrow! I have learned to be a cook too, Jarl Dragonheart.”
They made room for me to sit on the log. I took Wolf’s Blood and cut the fish up to allow it to cool. “Did you never marry, Lars?”
“Aye, I did. I had a wife, two sons and a daughter. We had a farm down Wykinglo. I was told it was too far from Dyflin but I thought we were here to stay. The mountains there reminded me of Norway and of your land, jarl. I was away raiding with Jarl Gunnstein when it was attacked. I buried my sons.”
“And your wife and daughter?”
He shrugged, “They will be slaves somewhere. She was a good-looking woman. She was Hibernian. Who knows, her own people might have come for her. She was a good wife.”
I ate the fish. It was good and made a change from the pickled fish we ate when at sea. I thought on Lars’ words. It was not an unusual story. Women taken in war and battle soon adapted. If not then they became unhappy. It was obvious that Lars’ wife had been happy. I wondered if her new man now lay on the field outside Dyflin.
One of Erik’s ship’s boys, Erik Finnison, ran down the river bank, “Jarl, there are drekar ghosting up the river. They are using oars and they have their masts stepped.”
“Run to the walls and tell them to bar their gates we will be under attack soon.” He nodded and ran. “Lars, they will come this way. I want you and your men to be ready to cut the ropes holding these three drekar to the shore and then fire them. Have the sails lowered first. Wait for my command.”
“And you, Jarl Dragonheart?”
“I will get their attention.” He and his men grabbed axes. I saw Lars light a brand from the fire. Others did the same for they had heard my words. I whistled three times. Erik and Gruffyd ran up. “They are coming. Have the men here. I want a shield wall three men deep. When they come, we move forward and slay them on the ship. When I give the command then we go behind the fire.”
They did not argue nor wonder why I would just face the enemy with eight men abreast. I donned my helmet and pulled my shield around. I drew Ragnar’s Spirit. I was thirsty and, as my men arrived, I picked up the ale skin and drank. The ale and the taste of the fish were satisfying. A warrior who had had such a meal could face any number of enemies.
I saw the shadows as they slipped down the river. Had I not been warned then I might have missed them. They had scouted out the longphort. Of course, they had! Klakke himself had been here. He might not be on the river. That was not his way. Others would take the risk rather than him but he would have told them where to lay their drekar. Magnus Axe Head would now need a new ship. I could have fired the ships as they tied up but that would have meant many would have escaped. I wanted them on the bank so that the threat would be gone. I felt the wind behind me. It was freshening with the approaching dawn.
I heard the slight bump as the first raider drew up next to the old drekar. I locked shields with Erik Ironshirt. I noticed that Gruffyd was on the other side of me. He had fought in battles now. He was a man. My son would fight alongside me. I saw shadows as they clambered over the side of Magnus’ old ship. It rocked as they slipped across its decks. We had the fire behind us. Our bodies hid the light. We had been watching the river and were accustomed to the dark.
I waited until the first of the warriors was about to climb over the gunwale and then I shouted, “Attack! Sound the horn once!” The horn rang out. It would tell Thorghest that we were being attacked. I did not think we would need him. We ran at the surprised warriors. I hacked at the legs of the one standing above me and sliced through one leg and half way through the next. He fell writhing to the deck. All five of the ones who had stood there lay dead. Behind them I saw more warriors. I knew that soon the ones from the other ships would surround us.
I raised my sword and shouted, “I am Jarl Dragonheart and I wield the sword that was touched by the gods. Go back now and you shall live. If you do not then your flesh will feed the fishes!”
There was the slightest of pauses and then a warrior with long blond hair shouted, “Kill them!”
I yelled, “Back! Now Lars! Now Lars!”
We knew what we were doing and the warriors had to race over the deck and climb the gunwale. We were in our formation even as the first of the Danes ran towards the fire.
“Back to back!”
The fire protected one side and the walls of Dyflin the other. The town was now roused and I saw men on the walls. Suddenly, from the river I heard the roar as the flames leapt up the dry sail and set it afire. The wind blew the three drekar, now freed from the shore, and they pushed the enemy drekar to the other bank. A fireship is terrifying to any sailor. Wood dries out. Canvas or woollen sails burn easily and ropes take fire everywhere. With most of their men ashore the three Danish drekar who were beginning to burn were doomed. Other drekar might survive but they would have no easy access to the shore.
Some warriors tried to get back to their own ships. Even as I hacked into the first warrior who swung his axe at me I saw a Dane engulfed in flames as he ran back to his ship. He accelerated the fire. The axe hacked into my shield. I stabbed downwards with my sword and my blade went into the knee and through. I twisted and pulled. As the man fell I stamped on his throat and he died. There was no order to the attack by Jarl Siggi Finehair and his men. That suited us. One warrior tried to jump across the fire to get to us. Einar Fair Face slashed him across the neck and he fell into the fire. Soon the smell of burning wood was augmented by that of burning flesh.
With their escape blocked the Danes came at us hard. Along the river bank I could hear the sound of battle. Behind us I heard horns. The Hibernians were also attacking. I had been right. This had been planned. I had learned, long ago that worrying about something you cannot control can get you hurt. The twenty-five of us had to kill as many of the enemy as we could. It was as simple as that. I slipped Wolf’s Blood into my left hand.
The burning Dane prevented others from emulating him and Jarl Siggi Finehair made a shield wall to attack us. One of his hearth-weru hooked his skeggox over the edge of my shield to pull it down so that Siggi Finehair could stab me. I blocked Siggi’s stroke with Ragnar’s Spirit. I allowed the axe to pull my shield and I slashed the Dane across the throat with Wolf’s Blood. I brought my shield around and smashed into the right arm of Siggi Finehair and then swung my sword at his head. He blocked my blow with his shield. I punched at his sword hand with my shield. He reeled and I lunged with Ragnar’s Spirit. He was slow and the blade slid into his shoulder. He dropped his sword for his fingers could no longer grip and he stepped back. Another took his place but it was a victory.
The archers on Dyflin’s walls now began to
take their toll. The enemy could be seen against the six burning drekar. At least three of Finehair’s ships would not be returning home. The light and the beginnings of dawn made it easier for our men to see the enemy. The crews of our other ships were now fighting. The main battle was around us and the gate.
I blocked a blow from a sword and, as I sliced at the Dane’s knee, Einar Fair Face took the warrior’s head. That allowed me a longer swing and I brought my sword around to hit into the side of the next warrior’s helmet. I saw the dent and the warrior slumped to the ground. There was now a gap in the enemy formation. As two men raced to fill the gap Einar and I lunged at the same time. We kept low and our swords slid in between the shields and their own axes. I felt the mail tear and I rammed it upwards harder. It slid into soft flesh and I twisted. Bringing my head up I smacked my helmet into the chin of the man I had just gutted. He fell back dropping his sword and his shield.
There was no one before Einar and I now. I shouted, “Break Shields! We have them!”
I stepped into the gap and, turning sideways stuck my sword through the side of the warrior fighting Gruffyd. I did not pause but punched my shield at the next man who reeled. As he did so Gruffyd swung his sword and knocked him into the fire. With their leader and his hearth-weru slain the band was leaderless.
“Drive them into the river!”
With arrows from the walls and our blades carving a deadly path through them they were forced backwards. The last twelve had no choice but to step into the river. Mail, swords and helmets dragged them to the bottom. The sun was now up and I saw the other eight drekar sailing, with the current, out to sea. We had won but there were still wounded enemies to be dealt with and friends to heal. I knew that Einar and Gruffyd had survived for they had fought alongside me. I turned and saw Erik Ironshirt raise his sword.
“Dragonheart! Dragonheart! Dragonheart! Dragonheart!”
“Finish the wounded!”
I walked down the bank to find my ships and their crews. As I did I came across Lars and two of the river guards. They had died. Around them lay the bodies of eight enemies. Lars would be in Valhalla. He had died well. He would be with Jarl Gunnstein Berserk Killer. They would each have tales to tell. When I reached my drekar and cargo ship I saw that there were dead Danes around the bank but my men, bloodied and bruised, had survived.
