Housecarl

by Griff Hosker

  The warrior before me was so intent upon my blade that he lost his footing and fell. I stamped on his face as I passed knowing that he would be despatched by the men behind. I heard his gurgle of death as I chopped through the shield of the man who stood before my axe. He stabbed at my chest with his sword. Had he aimed at my arm he may have hurt me but although the blade penetrated some links and I saw a tendril of blood seep out it was but a scratch. His brave attempt to hurt me cost him his life as my backswing struck his outstretched neck and his head bounced along the traitor’s front rank.

  Then I was face to face with Egbert who suddenly seemed quite small. He too had his axe out but I knew that he was not confident. The blade was clean whereas mine dripped blood and gore. His armour, for he was the first I had seen who had donned armour before fighting, was shining. He had not fought this day and I had been fighting for hours. He should have had the advantage being fresher but I knew that I was a warrior, a Housecarl and he was not.

  He sneered, “Runt! “And swung his axe at me. I easily countered and smiled as the sliver of wood was sliced from the axe’s haft.

  “How embarrassing for you Egbert if you are killed this day by the runt!”

  I swung my axe at his arm and he hurriedly changed his angle. Again another sliver slipped from the ash and he took a step backwards. He looked in horror as though I might whittle the handle down to a toothpick. To me it seemed as though we were alone fighting in a limbo. There were other combats around us, for the wedge had lost cohesion as our enemies fell before us, but all I could see was Egbert. He was becoming afraid, I could see it in his eyes and he became impatient to end this duel which he had felt he would win easily. His impatience meant he made mistakes. Instead of the natural swing of the axe, in a figure of eight diagonally across the body, he made the cardinal error of a flat swing intended to decapitate me. It is the easiest blow to face for you drop you knees and lower your head. Even as I ducked, Death Bringer was slicing upwards. It ripped through his mail as though it were not there and tore into his stomach. For a brief moment I saw his breakfast. His eyes, already losing life looked down to the entrails and guts pouring on to the ground and Egbert, my half brother died at my feet at the battle of Stamford Bridge.

  The emotion of the moment, tiredness and the fact that our enemies moved swiftly away at the death of one of their leaders meant that we halted to regain our breath. Osbert slapped an arm across my back. “That was the finest axe work I have ever seen. It seemed to be part of you.”

  I looked at the blade. Death Bringer is a fine weapon and it is now Brother Killer too.”

  Suddenly I heard a scream as Edward appeared from nowhere. He had a sword held in two hands and screamed at me. “Today the Runt will die!”

  He swiped the sword two handed at one of my men who stood before me and I saw the blade cut deeply into his leg and the warrior fell to the ground. I just had time to drop my axe and swing my shield around as Edward aimed the next blow at me. I had seen the arc of his swing and anticipated the blow. It cracked off my shield but I could see that my brother had mistimed it and he had jarred his arm. I drew my sword and waved the others away. “He is mine, look to the rest and do not interfere. It is wyrd!” I grinned at him. “I hope that you have made peace with God brother for you will be seeing him or the devil soon.”

  “You are the bastard’s spawn and you will die.”

  His next blow I took on my shield and I leisurely hacked at his leg below the knee. I did not use my full power but the blood spurted. “That is for Aethelward.”

  I saw him almost cry and then he hacked at me again. The blow was better timed but I took it on my shield and sliced into his mail shirt along his ribs with a side cut. The dark mark showed the blood. “And that is for Nanna.”

  He was screaming like a child and I heard Osbert say sadly, “Finish it my lord.”

  His last swing was an over head hack, aimed at my helmet and had he struck me he would have split my fine helmet but I was ready and my blade plunged into his chest, twisting as it entered. “And this is for my mother, for you were complicit in her death, killer of women.” His face was close to mine and I watched the hatred and anger turn to shock as he knew that he was dying. I pushed him from my sword and he slid to the ground. Two of my brothers were now dead.

  I took the time to look around the battlefield. I could see that Tostig and Hadrada were surrounded. To my right Ridley had also halted and before us were the remnants of Egbert’s men and the other traitors. Behind me I could see that Osgar, Wolf and the others were struggling to finish off Tostig and Hadrada. The men fighting with the King and the Earl were the elite of the army and they did not die easily. “Ridley, keep after those traitors. Topcliffe! Wedge! Branton get your archers. It is time for arrow work.”

  The men were bone weary. They would struggle to lift their arms. I checked to see that the wedge was in formation. Branton appeared at my shoulder with Boar Splitter in his hand. “Thought you might need this lucky spear, my lord.”

  “Thank you Branton.” I pointed at Hadrada. “When you get the chance try for the King it might take the heart out of his men and save the lives of some of ours.”

  “It will be a pleasure my lord.”

  “Topcliffe! Forward!”

  As we marched forwards I looked to see where the Housecarls were struggling. I could see that Osgar and Wolf only had three warriors behind them. It seemed appropriate that we should aid my companions of the shield wall. “Osgar! Wolf! Wedge coming behind.” Both men were engaged in deadly combat and could neither acknowledge us nor turn to see us. Our manoeuvre would rely on my timing. Branton, his archers and his slingers could see our point of arrival and they began to rain missiles on those behind, in the third and fourth tightly packed ranks. Had the warriors had armour the arrows would have been an inconvenience but without armour and using the shields to protect against the Housecarls it resulted in carnage. Wolf and Osgar moved forwards slightly as the pressure eased. I headed for the point between their shoulders. Knowing that I was arriving meant that when they felt my shield and saw Boar Splitter appear, they moved apart slightly and I stabbed forwards, my blade striking a shield and sliding up into the unprotected throat of a Norseman. Stepping forwards I saw that it was Wolf and Osgar who were besides me.

  “Just like old times eh Aelfraed.”

  “Aye it is that. Now let us get this finished I have a thirst upon me.”

  It was indeed like old times and the fresh men helped to puncture the shield wall a little more. Wolf and Osgar were using their swords but they were using them like spears, pointing and stabbing over the edge of their shields. In contrast the Norse shields were riddled with cut marks and I began to punch the boss of my shield against my opponents. I saw the look of horror on his face as he saw the cracks appear. I redoubled my efforts, all the time probing with Boar Splitter. With a sudden crack, a piece fell from the end of his shield and Wolf’s blade slid through the gap to stab into his unprotected chest. We were close to Hadrada and I stabbed forwards to get closer to him. Suddenly something flew above my head and I saw one of Branton’s goose tipped arrows strike him squarely in the throat. He stood transfixed for a moment and then crumpled to the ground as though the life had been sucked from him. There was a collective wail of despair as the most famous Viking of all time, the man who would later be called the Last Viking, succumbed not to a blade in single combat or even an axe, but an arrow from a lowly archer.

  His men retreated around the body, protecting it with their shields. Their brave defence of their liege lord made our task even easier and soon we were despatching the badly wounded, who refused to give up their defence. Before I had time to check on my men I turned to see Sweyn stride up to Earl Tostig as he killed the last of the men who stood before them. Tostig, like my brother was armoured and had not fought in the front rank. Like my brother, his blade was clean and he was facing an exhausted opponent. No man stirred to help Sweyn and yet I knew beyond all doubt
that he would defeat the traitor. I could see the fear and resignation on his face. I could almost read the thoughts which said he should have accepted his half brother’s offer instead he was fighting a warrior whom he knew could defeat him.

  Sweyn’s shield was around his back and he was wielding his axe. Tostig had his shield and a sword. It was an unfair fight and Tostig, who was an experienced warrior, should have been able to deal with the oldest warrior in the English ranks but he did not. The shield parry was half hearted and the back swing of the axe caused sparks and pieces of metal to fly from the renegade’s sword. Sweyn was pushing forwards and Tostig was struggling to keep his feet. Had he stood he might have had a chance but he was so busy watching his feet that he did not block the axe blow which broke his arm. The shield dropped, still attached to his arm by a leather strap. He desperately tried to raise the sword and block the axe but the blade slid along the sword and with no shield to stop it sliced into neck of Earl Tostig. The momentum carried the blade through and the half severed head fell to one side before dropping to the floor. As the rest of the army saw their leaders fall they began to flee.

  I was just about to shout, ‘After them,’ when I heard a wail from Branton. “My lord, behind us!”

  I turned and saw Eystein Orri and the guards from the boats, fully armed and armoured racing towards the rear rank of the Housecarls. “Ridley, Ulf, turn! Shield wall!”

  We had little time to ready ourselves other than to lock shields and prepare to meet what the Norse later called, Orri’s Storm. I do not know, but I believe that Orri must have seen his future father in law fall to Branton’s arrow for they came at us with an unbelievable fury. We barely had time to raise our shields. They were not in a cohesive mass and came at us piecemeal; none the less they were a handful. I heard a cry to my left of ‘Coxold’ and knew that Ridley had seen our dilemma and was bringing the right flank to aid us. I hoped they would reach us in time for Sweyn and the Housecarls were almost spent. The first warrior to attack me had outrun Orri and he slashed at my spear with his sword. Sparks flew as the metal crashed. I punched at his shield and he spun around slightly. I was regretting my spear for, with his sword he could get in closer, but I knew that as soon as I dropped Boar Splitter, he would gut me. I had to close with him and I did something he did not expect. I stabbed down on his foot with the spear and pinned it to the ground. Pulling my dagger from behind my shield I pushed forwards so that he fell to the ground. I am a big man and heavy as well, our combined weight took us both downwards and his foot was ripped in two by my spear. As he opened his mouth to scream I rammed my dagger into his open mouth and he died. I leapt to my feet looking for my next opponent as I drew my own sword. Luckily for us and sadly for some of them they had run from Riccall in mail armour carrying shield and axe on the hottest September day any of us could remember, as we watched some of them died on their feet as their hearts gave out but the rest still fought in fierce anger. They were brave and tough warriors and we had the hardest fighting of the whole day. It was like drunken men trying to fight each other wielding weapons which seemed inordinately heavy.

  We were spread out more now and two warriors advanced on me. My fine helmet and mail marked me as a lord and I think they both sought glory. They were older men and they split up to come at me from two directions. The worst thing to do in that situation was to allow them to dictate the pace and I began the fight. I feinted at one while I punched the other with my shield. He had not expected that and tumbled over; before I could finish him off I felt a pain in my right leg and turned to see the first warrior twisting his sword as he pulled it out. The delay cost him his life as I sliced across his throat my own blade. I felt a blow to my back as the fallen warrior struck me and I fell to the ground. I rolled over and readied my sword only to see him loom over me with sword raised to finish me off. Branton’s arrow struck him, as it had Hadrada in the throat, and he fell to the floor.

  Branton and Osbert raced over to me. I looked at them in surprise. “As they supported me I shook them away. “The wound to my leg is nothing.”

  Osbert took his hand from my back and showed it to me. It was sticky with blood. “The wound to your back is, my lord. “ His face filled with concern as he shouted, “Topcliffe!”

  My men formed a defensive circle around me and the archers shot any who approached. Branton raced down to the river while Aedgart took the tunic from a dead warrior and tore it into strips. He quickly bound my leg tightly and I felt a burning as the effect of the wound grew. Branton came back with moss from a tree and I felt him and his brother pack the soft material along my back and then they bound strips of cloth around it. Suddenly the wound felt cooler and I felt the water drip slowly down my back.

  “The battle still goes on. Osbert and Aedgart take the lead and I will follow.”

  They both looked at me doubtfully. “While any remain I will stand.“ Using Boar Splitter as a staff we made our way to where Eystein was engaged in combat with Ridley’s men. The men of Coxold were struggling to stem the tide of fresh warriors. I patted Osbert on the shoulder, “Charge them.” He looked at me. “Now!”

  “Very well my lord, Topcliffe let us gut these Norse swine.”

  They charged forwards and I hobbled along afterwards. My archers shot their last few arrows into the melee but I noticed that Branton kept them close to me in a protective circle. I could see that Ridley was engaged in hand to hand combat with Orri. They were well matched but Ridley was using a one handed axe, the one favoured by the Franks, and he was able to use his shield. Orri had a sword and I was in no doubt that even a tired Ridley would prevail. The Norwegian was a fine swordsman and I winced as I saw the backslash which opened Ridley’s mail. The blood did not gush and I hoped that it was a flesh wound such as I had suffered. Ridley’s axe began to pound relentlessly on the shield of the Norseman and I could see it splintering. When it went, it shattered and the blade continued through to slice off Eystein’s hand and arm. He tried to carry on bravely but when Ridley countered his next blow with his shield he had no defence to the axe which sliced him through the middle. With him died the hopes of the Norse and we had finally won. I sank to my knees and smiled as Ridley hobbled over. Even as I opened my mouth to compliment on his victory, I fell forward and my world suddenly became black.

  Chapter 14

  I dreamt of Nanna and I fought a dragon to protect her; I was chased by my brothers each wielding an axe and I could not move fast enough to escape them; I found myself on a high mountain in Wales looking down on a host of Vikings and then I was falling, down and down. Suddenly I felt Nanna’s hand and heard her voice coo, “Come back my love, come back” and the world seemed peaceful once more.

  When I awoke I expected to be in heaven. I looked up and saw wooden boards above my head which seemed a strange decoration for a celestial palace. Then I heard a voice next to me, a familiar voice, Aethelward’s, “You are awake at last. We thought we had lost you.”

  I tried to raise myself up but a pain coursed through my body and I sank back, my eyes closed to ease the pain.

  “You will still need to rest, nephew, for you nearly died.”

  I opened my eyes again and saw his face. As my eyes lowered I saw that his arm was bandaged too. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “Before I start on that story there are some people who need to see you for they have been waiting for some days for this moment.” He moved away and a door opened.

  Suddenly there was a sea of familiar faces, Thomas and Sarah, Osbert, Branton and, of course, my faithful friend Ridley. My three comrades all sported wounds whilst Sarah was tearful. She reached out and touched my hands, “Thank the Lord for that. They are warm. They were so cold, my lord, that I thought you were dead. “She kissed them, “I will bring you soup for we need to build up your strength.”

  Thomas smiled as she left, “She and Lord Aethelward have both been at your side for days my lord. It was, as my wife said, a hard time, for you looked like death. I am
glad that you have returned to us and now I will leave you with your comrades.”

  Ridley and Osbert looked tearful. “What is the matter? Is there some bad news I do not yet know?”

  Ridley shook his head, his voice sounded choked, “It is just that we feel we let you down. We are your men and we did not protect you.”

  I shook my head and smiled, I had feared that something had happened to Gytha, “My dear Ridley you are a lord and you have your own men.”

  He looked very seriously at me. “No master, I have a title but I will always be your man.”

  I turned to Branton and Osbert, “And you two have no reason to castigate yourselves. You fought as bravely as you could and the blow to my back was wryd.”

  Osbert shook his head, “No my lord we should have stayed with you but the heat of the battle was upon me and my blade sang.”