Viking Witch (Dragonheart Book 15)

by Griff Hosker

  His arrow flew straight and true and pitched one of the men to the ground. I shouted to Aðils “The other man is a Dane!” His arrow struck the second Dane between the eyes. I cupped my hands and shouted, “Thora, take your family and board a boat! Sail across the Water!”

  My clan were hardy and Thora waved to me as, like a mother hen, she shepherded the group towards the beach. They would have more chance to survive on the Water. The Danes were less than a hundred paces behind and if we had allowed them into the gates then they would have won.

  Haaken shouted, “Release!”

  Olaf shouted, “Release!” and fifty arrows soared into the air.

  The Danes were ready and their shields came up but, even so, four warriors fell. I heard a command and the Danes formed a shield wall. Thora and her family would be able to reach the boats. The warriors had to halt. Even as they huddled beneath their shields Aðils sent an arrow on a flat trajectory to strike a mailed warrior in the face. My archers stopped releasing when the solid wall of shields surrounded the hundred men. It would be a waste of arrows. The Danes had a ditch or a bridge to cross. The bridge had been designed to take a horse and a man only. If more tried to cross, then it would break and they would find themselves in a wet, stake filled ditch.

  I drew my sword and shouted, “Ráðvarðr the Bald, I know your name! You have no witches here to protect you but I have mine and the three of them will work their spells against you! You are all dead men walking!”

  I knew that when a warrior relied on witches he was even more fearful of other witches. I wanted them to believe that Ylva was still within our walls. His silence was eloquent. Their subterfuge had failed and the fog in his mind was evidence that there was magic at work.

  “We do not take skulls but your heads will be spread across the land to warn all such as you of the perils of the Land of the Wolf!”

  He answered that. I heard his guttural voice as he growled, “And I will have your head and your sword before the day is out. Your witches are weak and your numbers are small. We are the Skull Taker clan and this will be our new home! We will take your woman and give them real men!” I saw that his helmet had a red painted skull upon it and his shield had the same emblem painted on its leather covered front.

  His men began chanting, “Skull Taker! Skull Taker!”

  They began to edge towards the ditch. I saw some of the famers, metal workers and miners looking up at me for orders. I heard Olaf snarl, “Watch the Danes not the jarl. The time is not yet right to hurt them!”

  He was right. They had overlapping shields and spears protruded. Our stones and arrows could not harm them…yet. We could have used stone throwers if we had had them but other than that there was nothing which could damage them. Our inaction appeared to encourage them. They moved a little faster. They were heading for the bridge. I heard orders shouted and they started to change to a wedge. That was a tricky manoeuvre at the best of times but being so close to the ditch meant that, inevitably, three or four slipped. Two plunged into the ditch where they screamed as stakes tore into them. The other two were pierced by arrows and they lay dead. It forced the rest to become even tighter.

  As they headed towards the bridge I readied my bow. The Danes were forced into a column just four warriors wide. They could not cover their bodies as well and arrows struck arms and legs. They were tough men and they did not fall. The first four rows had mounted the bridge and all were mailed when there was a creak and then a crack as the bridge broke. The leading warriors fell into the stake filled ditch. My arrow struck a warrior in the neck as others were hit by many arrows. The ones behind also slipped and fell towards the water. From the woods I heard a horn and the Danes formed their shield wall again and began to back towards the woods. Some of the wounded from the ditch tried to clamber out to join them. Arrows sprouted from their backs. By the time the Danes had reached the safety of the woods they had left over thirty men on the field. Some, in the ditch, were not dead. We did not end their suffering. Their moans and cries would hurt their comrades. They would die, eventually.

  We could not leave by our main gate; not, at least, until we had made a new one. The bodies which remained in the ditch would enable them to cross over; if their chief could rally them. We had hurt them but we had yet to defeat them. We had not suffered a single wound.

  I descended to the ground and sought out Kara and Aiden. They both looked tired, “You did well. You hid our intentions from them.”

  “Aye father but it took much from us. Without Ylva we have lost some of our power. If the four witches come…”

  “Then we will deal with them. Do not despair. We have hurt them. Have Deidra and Macha organise the women to take food to those on the walls. I will not relax our guard.”

  Kara nodded, “Elfrida has already begun to organise that. She said she could not sit around doing nothing while her son stood a watch.”

  I went all the way around my walls. I feared an attack from the rear. It would not be an easy approach for an enemy; the ground was both high and rough but if they were desperate then who knew? The defenders there had heard the cries of battle but seen nothing. “What happened jarl? We heard the cries.”

  “They lost many men and broke the bridge. They will have to find another way over.”

  By the time I reached the main gate again it was past noon. Olaf shouted down. “We have seen movement but they have not shown their faces.”

  I nodded, “Food is coming. Have one man in two relieved to eat and to drink. If they need to make water, then use the ditch.”

  Olaf laughed, “They will enjoy that! It will annoy those in the woods if they see us pissing on their dead!”

  I went to the lower palisade to join Haaken. He had laid his helmet down and was tearing pieces of bread and smearing them with runny sheep’s cheese. “They will not come until dark.”

  “You have the second sight now?”

  He laughed, “I do not need it. They showed when they attacked Sigtrygg that they are cunning. Our arrows cannot hurt them at night for we cannot see them. We cannot light the fires for we have no means of crossing the ditch. Listen.”

  I cupped my ear. I could hear the sound of wood striking timber, “They are making a ram or bridges.”

  “Aye. They will come tonight.”

  “Then Snorri and Raibeart will give them a surprise.” I shouted. “One man in two rest. For those who watch use your ears as well as your eyes.”

  “And make sure you eat too, Dragonheart.”

  I took his advice and went to my hall. Brigid was feeding Myfanwy. My daughter had just begun solid food although the porridge she was playing with was not what I called solid food. Brigid looked concerned, “Well?”

  “They came and we slew many. None of ours was hurt.”

  “Thank God for that.” I smiled. I did not think her god would help pagans. “Is it over?”

  “They will come tonight. Do not fear they will not cross our walls.”

  “And our son?”

  “He is unhurt.” I hesitated. I had not told her the full story of his blooding. “He is a warrior. He killed Danes when we went to Sigtrygg’s stad.”

  “But he is a boy!”

  “No, my love, boys are the ones who cannot stand alone. When a Viking boy stands on his own two feet then he is half way to becoming a warrior. Our son will soon be a man!”

  I ate and after speaking with as many of my people as I could, returned to the wall as darkness was falling. The forest had grown silent. They had cut what they needed. We had killed many but their leader must have had enough men for him to be confident. This would be a test of my clan. I was just grateful for the sprinkling of Ulfheonar who would hold together the bondi who had yet to face such a foe. Olaf Leather Neck had gone around and issued javelins and spears. When we saw the Danes, they would be close. A bow was not the weapon to use.

  Aðils came to me, “Jarl I can be more use beyond the walls. I am like Snorri. They will not see me. Trust me.�
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  I knew that he was right. I nodded. “Use the secret passage at the north end.”

  “Aye Jarl. When you hear the cries, it will not be me!”

  He was a young warrior but I had the utmost faith in him. As night fell I stared into the dark. They would come. The clouds made the night blacker than ever. I listened but I heard nothing. I knew that my hearing was not what it had been and I hoped that the young warriors would hear the enemy. Suddenly the night was riven with a scream. A heartbeat later and there was a second. I did not know which of my men it was but they were making life difficult for the Danes. This was the world of Snorri and Aðils. Even Raibeart was familiar with the forests. The Danes were not. The shouts, screams and movement continued for some time and then went silent.

  Einar had returned to duty having eaten. He asked, quietly, “Are those our men. Jarl?”

  “They are.”

  “Why is it now silent? Have they fallen?”

  Einar had been on one voyage and had not fought on land. I shook my head, “No Einar they have withdrawn. They are pulling Danes away from our walls. They will take them deeper into the forest hunting them. They know not that it is they who are being hunted.”

  As if to prove my point there was a distant cry.

  “So, the Danes will flee?”

  “I do not think so. They serve witches who do not take failure well. This will merely make them keener to get to grips with us. We are an easier enemy than the warriors in the woods. You can face a man you can see but the knife in the night is terrifying.”

  Ragnar whistled from my right. I peered into the dark. I thought I saw movement but I could not be sure. “Stand to!” I did not shout it but it was passed on from warrior to warrior. I heard the sound of warriors ascending ladders to retake their places on the wall. I hefted my javelin. This would not be sword work.

  I heard Haaken, three paces beneath me say, “Be ready to strike at anything which moves. We have spears aplenty!”

  Haaken and his men at the lower palisade would be the first to come into contact with our enemy. The silence of the night was broken by the sound of an arrow and a scream as one of Haaken’s sentries was slain.

  “Shields!” They had been complacent and a warrior had paid with his life. I held my shield before me. They knew where our palisade stood and they could send arrows towards us. More arrows thudded into the walls or shields. Some soared over us. I saw Haaken raise his spear and hurl it. There was a shout in the dark. They were close.

  A figure appeared below me on the fighting platform next to Olaf Leather Neck. I saw a glow and realised that it was Aiden. He handed something to Olaf who whirled it around his head. The black of night became daylight as the pot of oil shattered and fire spilled out. I saw the Danes. They were laying logs across the ditch. The light took them by surprise. They held logs and not shields. My men took their chances and hurled spears at them. The slingers sent lead balls in their direction. One of the Danes was quick thinking and threw his cloak over the fire but by then we had slain ten and we knew where they were.

  Aiden handed another pot to Olaf and he threw it further to his left. As the light illuminated our attackers I saw that they were close to the outer palisade. I threw my javelin at the head of the warrior who was trying to pull himself over the top of the sharpened stakes. I missed his head but pinned his hand to the stakes. Before he could free it, a slinger had slung a stone and it cracked into his head. He hung there by his pinned hand.

  The Danes threw one of their dead on the burning oil and darkness enveloped us. I knew we would have to withdraw from the outer palisade soon. There were not enough men manning the wall. I handed my spear to Einar. “Keep them at bay!”

  I descended, “Ragnar, fetch your hearth-weru.” As they appeared next to me I shouted, “Gruffyd, tell Haaken to abandon the outer wall.” Turning to Einar the Tall I said, “We open the gate and hold it for Haaken and his men.”

  “Aye Jarl.” Two of the hearth-weru lifted the bars on the gate.

  I stood flanked by Ragnar and Einar. I heard Haaken’s voice as he ordered them to fall back. We were aided by the fact that the gate which led outside was thirty paces to our right. When the Danes came through they would be disorientated. My men knew where to run and they did.

  I saw a flash of light as Olaf threw another pot. Screams and shouts told me that my men had deterred the enemy. The first of my men from the walls poured past us. The three of us held our shields before us as the other hearth-weru held their shields above our heads. The outer gate burst open and the Danes ran over the bridge. Like the outer one it was not intended to take a great deal of weight. I held my shield out to block the blow from the first Dane across and rammed my sword into his middle. As he fell back Einar brought his sword sideways across the neck of a second and Ragnar cleverly dropped to one knee to hack across the leg of a third. The three bodies fell backwards as more Danes tried to cross. The bridge cracked and split asunder with the sudden weight. This ditch was dry but was filled with stakes. As Danes spilled over from both sides even their mail could not stop them being pierced.

  As Haaken passed me he shouted, “I am the last. Only the dead remain!”

  Olaf’s voice sounded above me, “Jarl! Stand clear and close the gate!”

  We stepped backwards as one. I saw Danes massing to race across the bridge of bodies. As we stood in the gate Olaf and Aiden hurled two pots of burning oil. They struck the bodies and flared up making an impenetrable barrier. The heat made me flinch.

  “Close the gates!”

  I sheathed my sword and clambered up the ladder. As I reached the top my nose was assaulted by the smell of burning hair and flesh and my ears by the screams of men being burned alive. Olaf and his men were now hurling more and more pots of burning oil. Even as I watched the Danes were being forced back.

  It proved too much. Their best warriors were now dead and the rest fled back into the dark. We had beaten them off again but at a cost. I looked down and saw Haaken having his arm bound. “How many?”

  “We lost ten of our men, jarl.”

  We had won the exchange but we had fewer men to lose. As the last of the burning Danes died I heard cries from the woods. Raibeart, Snorri and Aðils had resumed their work. We waited until dawn for the Danes to return. They did not. It was not a bright dawn. The sky was grey. The acrid smoke from the dead hung in the air. As we watched the light brighten the walls I saw my own dead. Fewer than the Danish dead they lay on the fighting platform of the lower palisade testament to their courage. The outer wall had done its job, as had they. It was harder to estimate the Danish dead for the bodies lay contorted and blackened in the ditch and across the bridge.

  I saw a movement from the woods. “Stand to!”

  Then Gruffyd shouted, “It is Snorri! It is our men, father!” It meant we had won and the enemy had fled.

  While our dead were cleared, I had another bridge thrown over the ditches. I had horses readied for us to pursue the Danes. “Einar, do not forget Thora and her family. Fetch them over.”

  “Aye Jarl.”

  I saw that Snorri had a wound. His arm was bloody. As soon as I could I crossed to him. “Is it serious?”

  “No Jarl but I did not wish to hold them up. Raibeart is leading the pursuit. There are many dead Danes in the forests.”

  “You did well. Your terror of the night must have torn the heart from them.”

  “It did. Aðils Shape Shifter is a terrifying warrior. I can hide but he is invisible. I fear I am no longer the scout I was.”

  “You have proved your worth again this night. Go to Aiden and have your wound bound.”

  Gruffyd brought my horse and I mounted. I led my Ulfheonar and Asbjorn’s men. We headed down the Water. The Danes would flee home and that was east. We would find them. This was a hunt but a hunt of men. We rode down the Water quickly and used our road. When we reached the bottom end then we spread out in a wide line. The Danes would make for Grize’s Dale. The tangl
e of trees and bushes there was a breeding ground for biting insects of all kinds. It took a determined man to concentrate on anything when they began to bite.

  I held a spear loosely at my side. It was not easy hunting from the back of a horse but the spear would give me the advantage over any fleeing Dane. Our pursuit was not purely vengeful. The more we slew the fewer would return. Aiden’s fire had taken the heart from them but their leader remained. I wanted him.

  I heard a shout from my left. One had been caught. I heard his screams as my men ended his life. I kept riding with Haaken beside me. Gruffyd and Ragnar were behind. As we headed up the rise towards the wood I caught the glint of a helmet. The sun was in the west and illuminated this eastern ridge. I kicked my horse in the ridge and he began to gallop. I am a good rider and I used my knees as well as my left hand to guide the horse towards the glint of metal. As soon as the Dane began to climb the ridge he slowed. He also made the mistake of turning. As he did he slipped. His leg caught on a sapling as he fell and twisted him around. I hurled my spear from six paces and pinioned him to the earth. I slowed my horse and, twisting the spear, withdrew it. A tangle of entrails erupted with the head. I continued up the slope.

  I now heard more cries to my left and right as my men found Danes. They had not stayed together or those that we followed had not done so.

  Snorri was close by and he shouted, “I see their trail, Jarl. Many of them are heading for Satter’s Waite.”

  I nodded and turned my horse to the left. It made sense. The moor and fell to the south of us was open and desolate. They would be spotted. They must have come this way and knew of the abandoned farm which had belonged to Satter and his family. The ground had been cleared around the farm and it would make easier going. They would also have the refuge of the farm. They had run a long way and they would be exhausted. My men followed me although they still maintained their line. The occasional cry and shout told me when an enemy had died.