by Smith, Skye
Since the time before the ancient Romans, the Frisian folk had sailed to Helledore from all along the Waddensea, and here they would enter the North Sea through the channel of breaking waves and shifting sand bars that gave the place it's name, 'Hells Door'. From here the Frisian traders sailed south towards Flanders and the mouths of the River Rhine, or west towards the Wash.
The nobles of the North Sea had been gathering here all week to discuss 'the Norman problem' and 'the Emperor problem', and none of them saw eye to eye with any other. Malcolm of Scotland had finally arrived so now the talks could be guided to some conclusion. In the grandest of the longhouses sat Robert the Frisian of Flanders, Canute of Denmark and his uncle and admiral Jarl Osbjorn, Dirk of Frisia and Holland, Magnus of Saxony, Olaf of Norway, and Malcolm of Scotland. Representing France was Fulk le Rechin, the Count of Anjou who never before in his life had traveled this far north.
Raynar sat near the wall with the various personal bodyguards of the nobles. After days of noble posturing all he had found out for certain was that these men's worlds had just changed radically because the Norman Duke Guiscard had defeated Emperor Henry, had taken central Italy from him, freed Rome of him, only to sacked Rome, and then a few months later Guiscard had died.
The two problems were really the same problem. Emperor Henry of the Germanies had retreated out of Italy, which was why Henry was now worrying the border of Saxony with his army, yet again. With Henry's army gone from the Italies, the Normandy Normans were no longer needed in Italy. With Guiscard's death, and with no clear leader to replace him, Norman knights were seeking out the leadership of the Conqueror in Normandy.
France, Flanders, Holland, Saxony, and Denmark now had the Emperor's huge army to the east of them, and the Conqueror's ever growing army to the south of them. Yes they controlled the seas with their fleets, but all of the threats to them were by land. The trading fleets were still plying the seas, but the raiding fleets were beached because their crews had marched to the land borders.
Raynar was bored and angry. He hid his anger by pretending to sleep. This was a waste of his time, a waste of his ship's time. With a word these men could send a thousand ships to surround England and take the throne away from the Conqueror. The Normans in England had never been so weak since that day in '66 when both armies lost the Battle of Hastings road. But for how long? What were they waiting for? The longer he listened, the more he realized that the fate of England was no longer important to these nobles.
Being the latecomer, Malcolm had kept his peace and listened, but now he was standing and everyone gave him the floor. "Amongst us here are representatives from every coast of the North Sea except for one, and that one is the longest coast and has the most to win or lose by what is decided here in Helledore. Who here represents England?"
There was an uproar, not so much because of the truth of his words, but because of what the words said of how they had all failed their kinsfolk in England. Not a single English noble remained in England, so if a noble had spoken for England he would have been a Norman. True, Canute could likely claim the right to speak for the Danelaw, but he did not stand and say so.
So far the only item that everyone agreed on was that the Norman fleet should not be allowed into the North Sea, or into the Thames Estuary. Malcolm now suggested that the combined fleet be sent immediately to sink the Norman fleet so that the Conqueror could not move his army by ship. Only Norway supported the suggestion, but it was strongly vetoed by France and by Flanders who had the only land borders with Normandy.
Hearing this made it very clear to Raynar that the most likely outcome of this meeting were actions that would encourage the Conqueror to invade England with his huge new army. Invade England for the second time and assure his throne there. Invade England and take his army away from the borders of France and Flanders. He had heard enough. He stood and made his apologies to Dirk, the host, that his stomach was bothering him, and left the longhouse.
Someone at the table must have remembered that Raynar was not just a warrior, but a healer, and therefore a man most unlikely to be having stomach problems. Canute ordered his guard to run and catch him and bring him back. "Don't forget," Canute explained his order to the others, "that many ships follow that Englishman's lead and I have personally seen how his wolfpacks humiliate Normans."
The other men, the ones who had seen the wolfpacks in action, nodded in agreement, but Olaf of Norway had not, and so he laughed derisively and told them, "Yes, many trading ships follow him, but no raiding ships. What good are trading cogs against Norman warships. Let him go. At least he will continue to feed us the news from the south." Olaf's words came too late to stop the hue and cry throughout the camp to stop Captain Raynar from leaving the burgh.
Raynar's personal ship the Anske, with his personal crew of hardening wolfpack skirmishers, lurched away from the dock with not a moment to spare before a squad of guards reached the berth. The guard sent ships after the Anske, but they were too few and too late to stop her from smashing through the standing waves that marked Hell's Door channel, and the ships that gave chase lost their nerve at the sight of the rip and turned back.
Since Raynar assumed that riders would be dispatched south along the coast of Holland with orders to have his ship intercepted, Raynar instead set a course due west to the Wash and the Fens, and his home base. Desperate times demand desperate measures, so even though most of the Fens ships were coastal traders, and trading cogs, with barely a longship worthy to carry warriors amongst them, he sent word out across the Wash for them all to gather at Lynn. A week later, the forty largest of the trading ships, all double crewed for raiding, had joined the Anske.
He traveled between the ships explaining to the captains and crews that they had no chance in a sea battle with the Norman fleet. "If you see a Norman longship at sea, then stay away from it," he told them. "Our only chance is to burn the fleet while it is still in port in Caen. For this task our trading ships are well designed because they are more maneuverable in shallow waters and harbours. I have a barrel of oil and rags for each ship, and barrels of arrows to be turned into fire arrows."
After another days delay while the barrels were loaded, the small fleet of small ships set sail for Oudenberg in Flanders. Each captain knew the plan, so even if separated from the fleet, he could still continue to Caen, but no ship was to be seen by the Normans until all of the fleet could surprise the Norman ships.
Despite Robert the Frisian's orders that Captain Raynar was to be detained if he ever stepped ashore, and orders that absolutely no Flemish ships were to join him, twenty of Hereward's trading ships immediately joined Raynar's fleet. These too were crewed by men who had learned the ways of the longbow and the wolfpack in the Ely rebellion.
The fleets last stop before leaving the shoreline for their secret approach to Caen, was Montreuil-Sur-Mer. There they rested and re-provisioned and shared amongst the ships the huge stock of heavy arrows and spare bows that had come from John's stockpile at Huntingdon. All of the ships of Montreuil, Hereward's charter ships, rallied to join them. That gave them even more bowmen, three more cogs, three more longships, plus the elderly Ormurin Langi with its underwater bow ram.
The news at Montreuil had been sobering. It was brought to them by a French captain who had been trading with Rouen until the Normans had tried to commandeer his ship. "The Normans, yes," he told the gathered captains, "they were so fearful of the Danish fleet swooping down on them and taking their ships, that they began immediately to ferry warriors to Southampton. They knew that at any moment the Danes would arrive and sink them, and so they wanted as many men in Wessex as possible before they lost their ships.
All week they have been sailing night and day to make the crossing, yet the Danes, they do not come. At Caen they had only ninety ships large enough for the crossing, so each one had to make many crossings. Ach, the army, you know, it is so large to make the crossing. Luckily, eh, that there was no army waiting on the English shore to
fight them and so they did not need to make a landing. It was a simple ferry service. Ship after ship, knight after knight, squad after squad. Twenty thousand men they say. Twenty thousand. I was an oarsman back in '66 with the first invasion. It was 'alf the size of this second invasion."
"And they have finished now? They are all across? We are too late?" Raynar asked, while feeling dizzy and sick to his stomach. Twenty thousand brutal killers just set loose in Wessex. Oh the horror of the thoughts that crowded his mind. Oh the horror they would bring to those happy folks of the anarchy. Oh the horror that every woman from six to sixty would endure while being sexually used again and again. The Wessex folk would go from freedom to slavery within weeks. Everyone.
"Well, perhaps no quite," the French captain replied. "That is a lot of men, a lot of trips. Perhaps they have a few trips more." As the French captain spoke these last words he suddenly found himself looking at the backs of the other captains. They were all racing for their ships. All accept the tall Englishman. He was being dragged to the side by the harbour master.
"Ray," the master said, pulling his arm to get his attention. The Englishman seemed to be miles away in a day dream. "Ray, no captain wants command of the Ormurin Langi. No crew will step aboard her. They refuse to sail an untried ship into battle."
Raynar looked at him, his eyes clearing, coming back to the now. "Run to the Anske and tell the mate that I need two wolfpacks and some riggers and a navigator to join me at the Ormurin. Tell him to have the Anske and two other cogs follow the Ormurin and to keep close in case she falters. Go, go now. I will captain the she pig myself."
* * * * *
The Ormurin Langi, the converted stock barge, the one time flag ship of the Norse fleet, was a flagship once more. The master had been right about her. No longer waterlogged, and with the worm holes and rot sealed with resin, and with the stock pens ripped off, she was the fastest ship in the fleet. The sixty wolves manning the oars helped. The ram did not slow her down, in truth it may even have made her faster. The only effect of the ram was to make the ship less agile in tight turns, and to slow the rise of the bow when it hit waves.
Within the first five leagues the crew had rebalanced the ballast stones to make the bow lighter. Moving the ballast made good sense when they were not in battle. In battle they would move them forward again to sink the ram below the water line where it would hopefully become a ship killer. The three cogs that were trying to stay close in her wake were having an exhausting time trying to keep up, despite the fair wind behind them.
It was two hundred miles to Caen, but depending on the course that the Norman ships were using to cross the Manche, they knew that they may see their first Norman ship within a hundred and fifty. That night they rafted together, Venetian style, stern in, to form a hollow circle with all bows pointed out. The smallest ships rested safely inside the floating harbour that the circle created. The rafted ships were so stable that everyone got a good nights sleep. The wind stayed with them and by morning they had drifted much further south.
By noon the next day they were close enough to send the Montreuil longships ahead to scout the mouth of the Orne for signs of Norman ships. The Montreuil were the ships that looked the most like the Norman warships, as they had originally been captured from Norman pirates. The Ormurin was left in the capable hands of the navigator, while Raynar joined one of the scouting ships. Five miles north of the River Orne they intercepted some local fishing boats, and took the fishers aboard for questioning.
The fishermen looked suspiciously at the crew, for too many of them looked like North Sea men for their liking, but the blonde who spoke to them in courtly French, and gave them some coins for their trouble, belayed their suspicions. "We have just come from Calais," Raynar told them. "We are part of the patrol sent to watch for the Danish fleet."
The fishermen nodded trying not to show their ignorance. They had no idea where Calais was but at least it sounded French. "We still have not seen the fleet, so we thought we could help transport the army. You would earn those coin if you can tell us whether we are wasting our time by going all the way to Caen. Are there any ships there now, or is the army already across?"
"Aye," a fisherman answered while tasting the coin. "You are too late to ferry men. They are all across."
"Ah, so then the fleet is all in Southampton?"
"Didn't say that, did I," the fisherman shrugged. "Didn't say they was in Southampton. They's in Caen."
"But, but you said that the men are all across."
"Aye, the men are, but the English are too stupid to breed riding horses, ain't they. No horses, see, so the king has sent the fleet back to begin ferrying horses. Sanglante bouffon Anglais,"
"Merde, they will expect me to fill my ship with horse filth?" Raynar complained. "Here, share some more coins, for you have saved my ships from that disgrace. I will turn back to Calais and watch for Danes some more. Merci." The captain was signaling that he should slit their throats, but he didn't. There were too many other fishing boats watching. They had to be friendly.
They left the fishing boats and spun on the oars and headed back to the fleet. The other two longships saw them turn from the distance, and also turned onto an intercept course. That night while everyone had a good sleep in the floating harbour, the captains planned the next day. They had two simple plans. If the ships were still in the river mouth, they would steal them or burn them. If the ships had set sail with their loads of horses, they would steal them, or sink them.
They all hoped for the latter, because not only did that mean that they needn't worry about land based warriors, but also because that would deprive the Normans of some of their best trained war horses. It was a calm night that drifted the floating harbour even further south, but no one cared. By morning they would be slept out and well fed and ready for battle.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - The Second Invasion by Skye Smith
Chapter 18 - Capturing a fleet off Cherbourg in August 1085
With Raynar once again the captain of the Ormurin flagship, they de-rafted the ships and moved south as a fleet. They spotted the Norman fleet about ten miles off shore and gave chase using a favourable wind. Normally a Frisian trading cog would have been totally outpaced and overwhelmed in battle by any longship, but these Norman longships were not manned for battle. They were manned for carrying stock. They would carry a minimum crew so only half the possible oar positions would be manned, and those men may not even be warriors.
Once they were spotted by the Norman fleet, six of the Norman longships broke away from the convoy of horse carriers and came directly at them. This would be the escort, and they would be manned for battle in case of Danish raiders. The longships with Raynar, seven of them including the Ormurin, broke away from the cogs in a spurt of double time rowing to close on the battle ships and keep them away from the cogs. Meanwhile the cogs changed course and went after the stock carriers.
Last night Raynar had given the captains strict orders. Do not risk your ships or your lives by attempting to board Norman ships. Use arrows for close range slaughter of the Normans, and do not allow them to grapple you. They were basically the same instructions he had given to the Venetian fleet in the Adriatic four years ago.
The orders applied to every ship except the Ormurin. He was eager to try out the ram, which meant getting close enough to board. The first Norman ship that closed on the Ormurin was almost as long as the old bitch, and perhaps faster. It was packed with warriors but very few archers or arbalesters. As the Norman closed in to grapple them, Raynar ordered his archers to be ready to use their arrows to clear their steering deck, but only from short range. The two ships were coming together head on at full speed and closing the distance at an incredible rate.
Both ships kept to the right to pass, and Raynar could see a dozen men on the Norman ship standing ready to throw their grappling lines. Just as the bows passed each other, Raynar gave the order that all of his
oarsmen were waiting for. Raise the port oars and full stroke the starboard oars. The entire ship careened to the left towards the center gunnels of the Norman ship. It turned so hard that waves splashed over their own gunnels and soaked their starboard oarsmen.
There was barely seconds for everyone to brace themselves for impact, and that was what Raynar was yelling out. Brace yourselves until the crash and then back your oars like your life depends on it, which it would. Meanwhile on the Norman ship, every man near the steering oar had been ripped into by heavy arrows. The entire crew of the Ormurin underestimated the force of the crash. Everyone was thrown to the deck as the ship went from eight knots to nothing in an instant.
Though thrown down, the oarsmen had not lost their grips on their oars. They leaped to their feet and now standing they rowed the back stroke for all they were worth. Meanwhile the archers were trying to untangle themselves and stand. Some of the Norman warriors were trying to find their grapples, while others were trying to climb onto their bow. There was a gut wrenching grating noise as the ram was pulled free of the Norman, and finally they picked up speed backwards and out of grapple range.
Every seaman shuddered while looking at the effect of the ram. They had split the Norman ship almost in two, and it was sinking fast but the men aboard it were panicking and staring rather than peeling out of their mail and finding something to hold onto that would float. The men's own panic at the thought of drowning was about to drown them, every one. The ram was definitely a ship killer.
Meanwhile Raynar could not afford to watch what was happening with the stricken ship. There were ships all around him, and another Norman ship had decided not to help their stricken sister ship and her drowning crew, but to board the ship that struck it. "Lift port oars on my three count." he yelled and counted the oar stroke in his loudest voice. "One, two, ...." and the oars lifted and since they were rowing backwards the stern swung to port. "Now switch, Starboard up. Port, dig, dig, dig."
