In Two Minds

by K T Findlay

  ‘Shooting pattern three!’ he cried.

  All eleven bows launched their arrows. In the following twelve seconds the riders turned right into a nose to tail line cutting across the front of Grimketil’s position, released another volley to their left, then turned ninety degrees to the right again so they were once more riding in parallel with each other, but away from their foes, and shot a Parthian volley over the rear of their mounts as they galloped away.

  In less than twenty seconds, thirty three arrows had found their marks. Every one of Grimketil’s shields had a line of three arrows running from the shield boss to the top of the shield.

  ‘It’s a good thing for Grimketil that you agreed to having no bows Your Majesty.’ said Marwig over the King’s shoulder. ‘The battle would already be over!’

  The King nodded, never taking his eyes off the riders as they returned to their cart. “Just imagine what they could do in a proper battle!’ he replied.

  ‘This is a proper battle dear, if you’ll remember.’ said his Queen a little stiffly.

  The coterie collected a spear each and returned to their in line formation. Wulfstan brought them up to the gallop in the same way as before and charged at his foe. The time for demonstrations was over!

  Grimketil was appalled. Civilised men of honour simply didn’t fight from horseback! Horses were for travelling and looking good! He hadn’t anticipated this at all.

  The horses were less than twenty yards away when he heard Wulfstan’s command to fire, and eleven spears flew out from behind the horses’ heads.

  Grimketil’s men had no choice but to catch them on their shields. The speed of the horses added to the strength of the throws, caused the barbed spear heads to smash deep into the wooden shields, and the soft iron necks of the angon spears to bend and droop.

  ‘Argh!’ cursed Rowley, the man on Grimketil’s right. ‘It’s gone through my arm!’

  Everyone else simply threw away their shields, which was what the angon was all about. Its barbs made it very difficult to pull out of a shield, and even if the victim managed to do it, the fact that it bent on impact meant they couldn’t throw it back.

  Grimketil looked down the field anxiously to try and see what Wulfstan would do next. If they came again with more angons, he had no defence.

  ‘What are they up to now?’ asked Offa, to nobody in particular.

  ‘I can’t see Your Majesty. I was expecting them to come again with more spears, because they certainly have them in that cart, but they appear to be trying something new.’ said Marwig, who had the best eyes on the platform.

  This time the horses lined up just nine across, Deana and Scarlett falling back and slightly in from the two ends to hide behind Deena and Jade respectively.

  ‘Smoothly up to gallop! Attack pattern seven!’ cried Wulfstan.

  ‘Attack pattern seven?’ asked Sigwulf. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘How the devil should I know?’ muttered an exasperated Grimketil. ‘In line, spear butts down, points up and front!’ Grimketil himself felt just a little lucky that he had at least partial protection from Rowley’s unwieldy shield.

  The horses by now were at full chat again, rushing towards them, yet there were no spears in sight. Then, at just ten yards distance the line split, five horses to the left, four to the right rushing past the startled men, just out of spear range. The men immediately began to turn to face the new potential threat from behind them, not seeing the remaining two horses until it was too late.

  Deana and Scarlett also rushed down either side of Grimketil’s band, the braided rope tied between their two horses flying along behind them. It caught the men behind the knees, hitting them hard before the thinner cord that connected it to the horses’ saddles snapped. Every one of Grimketil’s men was brought to the ground, heads and shoulders taking a pounding, but Rowley worst of all. It had been the rope catching under his shield that had snapped the cord, completely breaking his arm, but leaving it still pinned to his shield by the angon.

  He was chalk white and deep in shock as Grimketil urged him back to his feet.

  ‘Come on old friend.’ he urged. ‘It’s fight or die remember?’

  He cajoled the rest of them back into some sort of line, but their morale was in tatters. Another mounted assault would finish some of them, he was sure. To his dismay, he could see them riding slowly down the field towards him. What fiendish plan did they have now?

  Suddenly a powerful voice lifted itself up in prayer. It was Cuthbert, standing halfway between his lord and his king, and making another impassioned plea for the Almighty to intervene. Grimketil’s men took heart, and stood up straighter, ready for whatever came.

  ‘Melody?’ said Wulfstan quietly. ‘You’re on!’

  Melody gave him a pinched smile and urged Embers up to a gentle canter, riding out a little ahead of the others.

  ‘He wouldn’t dare!’ growled the Archbishop as he watched the riders gather pace. Melody looked to be charging straight at Grimketil, bow part drawn and aimed right at him.

  ‘You ordered no bows!’ he snapped at the King. ‘Not content with offending God, your son is treating his own father with contempt!’

  Before Offa could reply, Melody flicked her horse to the right towards Cuthbert, while the rest of the coterie charged on towards Grimketil.

  ‘Stand your ground!’ Grimketil yelled as another flight of angons flew towards them.

  There was the awful sound of metal slicing through flesh, and screams as four of the spears struck home, plus another from Cuthbert. He’d been praying loudly, eyes firmly shut, counting on Wulfstan being too frightened of the Archbishop’s wrath to strike him.

  Melody had shot her special arrow, the one the Prince had ordered made the previous night. It struck Cuthbert in the left cheek, just as he was shouting out the word “God”, his mouth wide open. The broadhead sliced clean through the thin membrane of flesh, passed between his teeth to skewer his tongue, before exiting through his right cheek, and still it wasn’t done.

  Thomas had ordered a special sleeve with forwards facing barbs to be mounted on the arrow immediately behind the broadhead, held in place with a fine thread. As the broadhead punched through Cuthbert’s cheek, the sleeve barbs slammed into the outside of his face. The impact broke the restraining thread, allowing the sleeve to slip down the arrow’s shaft until it came to rest against a tiny iron nail jammed into the side of the arrow.

  The barbs at either end made it impossible for Cuthbert to pull the arrow from his mouth, and he staggered from the field, blood pouring down his chin, his inarticulate screams cascading over his skewered tongue.

  Offa laughed.

  ‘Well at least she didn’t actually kill him!’ he said to Jaenberht. ‘And Wulfstan didn’t use a bow against Grimketil’s legitimate players, so you have no complaint. Wulfstan told you he wouldn’t stand for that, and he didn’t!’

  The Archbishop stared at his priest, impotent rage coursing through him. Someone would pay for this day’s work, they really would pay, starting with Offa’s reputation in the history books!

  Grimketil assessed the damage. Three more of his men had received injuries to their left arms trying to deflect the spears. Encouraging them as best he could, he had them reform the line.

  Eleven of Wulfstan’s villagers walked out of their viewing area, and spread out in a circle twenty yards out from Grimketil. Wulfstan brought his riders up to a gentle canter, and rode them line astern around the men three times before coming to a halt, one horse per villager.

  The coterie dismounted and drew their swords, but made no move towards Grimketil, who had formed a much smaller circle of his own.

  ‘Well? Come on then oh mighty warrior!’ called Wulfstan. ‘We’re on foot now.’

  Grimketil made no move, and kept his men in their defence.

  ‘You’re a very hard man to please Grimketil!’ Wulfstan shouted. ‘First no bows, then you were shocked by the horses, and now you won’t fight at all! I
just don’t know what to do with you! Okay girls! Close in. If they won’t come to us, we’ll have to go to them. Pattern nine!’

  Grimketil watched them approach. He was puzzled by their delicate swords, and the little shields they carried, but he wasn’t worried. His men were more than a match face to face on foot, even injured as they were.

  ‘Let them get to within ten feet, then charge out and get them.’ he said softly. ‘They’ll be expecting a command, so go on your own initiative, so they’ll get no warning.’

  The women moved steadily in, keeping a careful eye on their opponents, and always noting where their friends were. On and on they came until Rowley leapt at Deana.

  He was a strong man, frustrated, and in great pain from his arm, but he was still able to swing his shield around, angon or no angon. It caught Deana off balance, and the follow up blow of his sword knocked her to the ground. She rolled quickly to her left, onto her back so she could defend herself but for a seriously injured man he moved unbelievably quickly. He hurled a blow down at her, so violent that it knocked her own blade out of the way, and smashed hard, into her chest.

  ‘Noooooo!’ screamed Deena, but by then she had her own problems. Her opponent had strapped up his own wounded arm with a strip of cloth torn from his tunic, but more importantly, he was fighting mad.

  ‘Right girly, time to join your little friend!’ he cursed, and launched his attack.

  Deena deflected the blow with her buckler, and struck at his face. It was so quick, and the blade so slender that he didn’t see it coming to slice away a piece of his left cheek.

  By the time he was in a position to retaliate, she’d danced away, and had her buckler out in front, hiding her own sword. He came at her more respectfully this time, with a straight thrust towards her chest, which she caught between sword and buckler, pushing him down, and giving herself the time to bounce away again.

  His next strike was high from the left, a brutal attempt to slice off her head, but again she deflected it with ease, and this time he’d left himself open. In less than a second her blade was in his chest, his aorta severed. Before he hit the ground, she’d already turned away to help her sister.

  Melody and Wulfstan were fighting side by side, having had the bad luck to pick Sigwulf and his friend Kenton, both fine blades. They’d managed to stave off four powerful attacks already, when the men managed to manoeuvre their lighter opponents around so they were back to back. Wulfstan and Melody’s evasions from a coordinated strike saw them bump into each other and lose their balance, allowing Kenton to bring his blade down in a ferocious blow onto the top of Melody’s head.

  It made hardly a dent in her steel helmet, but she went down without a sound. Wulfstan heard the blow and knew instantly what must have happened, but he was busy deflecting a blow himself.

  Sigwulf grinned. ‘Time’s up little boy!’

  Storm and Freawaru were having a much easier time of it. The fact they were far stronger than they looked, had fooled their opponents, and patronising attacks saw both men dead in just a few seconds.

  Jade and Topaz were initially an even match for their two, neither side able to penetrate the other’s defences.

  ‘Pretty little sword madam.’ said Topaz’s fellow.

  ‘Why thank you.’ she replied. ‘I had it specially made you know.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it!’ he laughed. ‘I’m looking forward to hanging it on my wall once I’ve killed you.’

  The laugh caught in his throat as Topaz trapped his sword between her buckler and the ground, and thrust her blade right through his chest at the same moment that Jade’s opponent’s blade slammed hard into hers, jolting her backwards.

  Rowena had chosen Grimketil himself, Berthilda the man to his left, and Scarlett the one to his right.

  ‘Watch her Huntley.’ cautioned Grimketil to Berthilda’s opponent. ‘These two are a bit special. Don’t underestimate them.’

  Huntley ignored him, and struck so fast it would have killed whoever it hit, but Berthilda was faster. She stepped to the right, deflected the blow with her buckler, and thrust her own sword straight through his eye and into the brain. She allowed his falling body to pull itself clear of her blade, which she wiped clean on his trousers.

  ‘Need a hand Rowena?’ she asked casually.

  ‘No thanks.’ came the reply, as Rowena easily deflected Grimketil’s feint. ‘I’m quite happy dancing on my own for a while.’

  ‘Then if you don’t mind, I’ll help Scarlett finish off hers.’

  ‘Well, it’s pretty even so far.’ observed Marwig. ‘Fascinating swords aren’t they?’

  ‘You must have known about those Marwig.’ accused the Queen. ‘Why did you not warn me?’

  ‘Because he made me give him my word that I would tell no one, so that they would be a surprise to Grimketil. He is a wise boy, your youngest son.’

  She looked at him over her shoulder.

  ‘I thought I could trust you Marwig! You have let me down.’

  ‘With respect ma’am, I believe I rendered you more service by keeping my mouth shut on this occasion, than I would have by telling you. If Grimketil had gotten wind of the new blades in any way, say from the servants overhearing something, then he could either have worked on a counter, or tried to have them banned as he did the bows.’

  She continued her stare, and then nodded.

  ‘Perhaps you are right. After all, you usually are!’

  ‘Your confidence has blossomed into arrogance Rowena. It won’t be good for your eternal soul, which of course is all you’ll have left in a moment or two.’ smirked Grimketil, flinging a blow at her right hip.

  Rowena caught it effortlessly on her blade, and swung her buckler into his face. He managed to avoid most of the impact by twisting his head away, but it cost him a precious second of recovery time and the point of Rowena’s blade caught him square in the chest.

  Grimketil staggered back a step under the force of the blow, but to Rowena’s surprise, her sword bent instead of sliding between his ribs. She glimpsed a flash of silvery rings through the rent in his tunic.

  ‘You’re wearing mail!’ she gasped. ‘But you gave the King your word!’

  Grimketil laughed. ‘What I actually said, was that my men would not wear mail. I never mentioned myself!’

  ‘Fine! It will give me more time to play before I kill you.’ said Rowena between her clenched teeth.

  Rowley’s blade made an incredibly loud clang as it hit Deana’s chest, tearing away her pretty tunic to reveal shiny metal underneath.

  She smiled at him and bounced to her feet, as he looked at her in disbelief.

  ‘What’s the matter soldier? Never seen inside a girl’s tunic before?’

  He was still staring at her when Deena’s blade came through the front of his chest.

  ‘Thank you sister!’ said Deana.

  ‘My pleasure! It’s a good thing for you that plate armour worked as well as the Prince said it would!’

  Jade was grateful for it as well, as she too lost her beautiful top.

  ‘You’re not supposed to be wearing armour!’ complained the man. ‘Your Prince made the agreement!’

  ‘It’s not a mail shirt silly!’ she giggled. ‘This is one solid chest I’ve got here! Unlike yours.’ she observed as Topaz’s blade cut a massive hole in the man’s torso.

  ‘I’m fine sis.’ Jade faux scolded. ‘There’s no point in splashing about more blood than is absolutely necessary!’

  ‘Pity about your top.’ observed Topaz. ‘I suppose the Prince might give you another. I wonder how the others are getting on?’

  ‘Jump right!’ commanded Thomas, from his position above and to the side.

  Wulfstan responded instantly, just in time to avoid a wicked downwards slash from Melody’s vanquisher.

  ‘You must have eyes in the back of your head boy!’ sniggered Sigwulf. ‘I’m going to hit you so hard your front ones will end up there too!’

  ‘Roll left!�
� screamed Thomas, who could see the other man preparing to strike once more.

  Tucking his arms well in, Wulfstan dropped to the ground and rolled as a blade swung savagely above him where his waist had been. He completed his roll and as his sword arm came out from under him he thrust it straight up into the man’s groin, to the hilt.

  The impaled man gave a scream and jumped away, inadvertently making the wound far worse, as Wulfstan’s blade sliced easily through his belly. Blood sprayed powerfully from his femoral artery, and his severed large intestines cascaded through the gaping hole.

  Wulfstan bounced to his feet and looked at the filth from the man’s bowels that coated his blade.

  ‘Oh dear. That’s not going to be nice to clean!’

  Sigwulf looked disbelieving at his friend writhing on the ground in his death agonies. Then as he brought his blade back into play against the Prince, he became aware of the fact that he and Grimketil were the only ones left alive, Scarlett having just finished off her man.

  Topaz, Jade, Freawaru and Storm surrounded him, their blades flickering wickedly in the sun, the odd drop of blood sliding off them into the grass. He turned constantly, making regular feints to keep them at bay.

  ‘You have no business on the field of war! This is the world of men!’ he screamed with his usual lack of tact and intelligence.

  ‘Fair enough.’ said Freawaru. ‘As soon as we’ve finished, I promise we’ll leave it to you.’

  Sigwulf scowled and sent a tired thrust towards her face. She sidestepped it easily, caught the blade on her buckler and stepped in quickly for a thrust of her own. The blade cut through his Adam’s apple and all the way back to his vertebrae. His eyes opened wide in surprise before rolling back in his head as he fell to the ground, blood fountaining out from the severed artery.

  ‘Well done Freawaru.’ said Wulfstan. ‘Nice work. Just Grimketil to go I think. Is Melody-’

  Topaz and Jade were kneeling down, looking at their fallen friend. There wasn’t a mark on her. She just lay there, completely still. Topaz carefully rested the back of her sword blade on Melody’s upper lip, and sighed in relief when she saw a soft mist form on the steel.