Viking Shadow

by Griff Hosker

  The Saxons were slower to reach us than we had thought. They arrived when the sun could still be seen in the sky to the west but the light did not last long. When they saw our camp, their king had his two bands of mercenaries form a shield wall on their side of the river. They were out of range of our bows. No one would risk crossing a river at night. The leader of the Danish warband stepped into the shallows. He shouted, “Jarl Dragonheart know that Einar Man Splitter comes to take your magic sword and your head! Flee now old man!”

  Such an insult could not be ignored. Flanked by Olaf and Haaken I walked to the water’s edge. “And know this, Einar Man Splitter, that I have slain more Danes than you have lived years upon this earth. When you come, Einar Taker of Saxon Pay, then we will slaughter you. I pointed upstream, “And know that I have a witch and she has already woven your deaths.”

  He looked upstream and saw, for the first time, the woven wool between the two spears. The light from the setting sun seemed to make it appear blood red and the black knots stood out clearly. He should have replied to the insult but, instead, he and the rest of the two warbands ran back to the main camp. The light was fading but I could see the Dane in conference with mailed warriors. One of them had to be King Beorhtwulf. A short while later and when the sun was illuminating the evening sky blood red, four priests came to the river and they began to chant. Ylva had been watching. I had no doubt that the Danes would also be watching. They would not believe that the priests could do anything about the spell but they would be interested.

  Ylva faced the priests. She spoke in our language for her message was for the Danes. She spoke, as all witches do, in riddles. A witch is like a dragon. She never tells more than she has to. Her words were like the chant of warriors on a drekar. They were hypnotic.

  “I am she who is born of a slave and lives like a princess.

  I am born of the blood of a wolf.

  I am she who died and yet lived.

  I am she who defied the Norns.

  I curse you Einar Man Splitter!

  Your warriors are dead men walking!”

  She went to the wool and tied another knot. As the sun dropped below the sky she turned her back. I smiled. She was wearing a black cloak and it was as though she had disappeared. I heard a hubbub of noise from the Mercian camp. We had caused a stir. Even the followers of the White Christ would be worried now.

  Haaken laughed, “Dragonheart your granddaughter is the equal of Kara. The Danes will get no sleep this night.”

  “And we will ensure that the whole army gets little.”

  Olaf asked, “We slit a few throats?”

  “It is not worth the risk of crossing the river. No. When all is quiet and their camp is dark the wolves will come.” I turned and shouted to my men, “First blood to us. Back to our camp!” They cheered.

  We reached our camp. “We set sentries. Sámr, go and tell your father that this night the wolves will howl. They should not be afeared.” I told my Ulfheonar my plan and we slept. Nothing that had happened had changed save that they had not arrived and rushed over to attack us. They still had the river to ford and now the mercenaries had fear in their hearts. We had lost the ally that was the dark from the east. Ragnar and his men would not be attacking from the shadows. We were going to aggravate that fear by making them lose sleep.

  I was shaken awake by Rollo. “Ready jarl. Aðils Shape Shifter and Rolf Horse Killer have set off already.” He loped off east. I knew that Haaken and Olaf would be to my left. I walked to the river. I could see the glow of the enemy fires. They were well back from the river in case we attacked at night. I waited. Aðils Shape Shifter would begin the howling. As my eyes became accustomed to the dark I saw their sentries. They were black shapes which passed before the fires. They would be Saxon. The Danes would be as far from the hex as they could get.

  Suddenly the night’s silence was torn apart by the howl from what seemed like Clougha Pike. Even as it died Rolf’s howl began and when that faded Rollo’s. Olaf’s followed. I heard Haaken, just a hundred paces from me. I howled. It must have seemed like a wave of wolves came down the river.

  I heard a Saxon voice shout, “Stand to!”

  A Danish voice shouted, “It is the Ulfheonar! They are in our camp!”

  I heard a clash of steel and a scream. There were more shouts and cries. It had worked better than I had hoped. We had often sent Ulfheonar into the camps of our enemies and we had slit throats. Our howls and the dark had done enough. Someone had been killed by a Dane fearful of the knife in the night. The noise and confusion lasted some time. I saw lighted brands as the camp was searched. All became quiet and so I howled again. This time the howling went upstream. No one shouted this time but I knew that the Saxons and their allies were not sleeping. They were mailed and waiting for an attack which never came. I turned and headed back to our camp.

  Haaken caught up with me, “This will be a tale to tell at Samhain! How the howls of a handful of men made Danes slay each other.”

  I rolled up in my wolf cloak and slept well. I doubted that the enemy would.

  Baldr shook me awake before dawn. I heard his horse neigh. He held its reins. “I was told to wake you, jarl. I have an ale skin and the last of the bread.”

  “First I will make water and you can help me don my mail.” I was glad to see that he had his leather armour on already. I did not want the Allfather’s gift to die in his first battle in the Land of the Wolf.

  By the time dawn broke we were already in position and the Saxons had formed up. As I had hoped Ylva’s curse and the hex had made the Hibernians and the Danes form up closer to the sea. The river was wider here. There were more sandbanks but the water was deeper in places. My drekar had also taken advantage of the night and Erik had brought her closer. She was the smallest of my fleet with the shallowest draught. She was now as close as she dared to be in the mouth of the river. They might not have seen her the night before but they saw her now.

  Behind the Danish wedge and the Hibernian warband the priests of the Saxon King were intoning their prayers and chanting. They held banners which had the White Christ embroidered upon them. I smiled for the Danish banner, a crudely sewn man split into two had skulls hanging from it. King Beorhtwulf was being cautious. No doubt the Danes had told him of my tricks and they waited until the sun had been in the sky for an hour before his horns sounded and his army advanced. While the Danes and the Hibernians came further downstream, the fyrd marched to cross the river by the hex. I could not see the thegns but I did see the housecarls. Their wall of spears gathered around the banner of Mercia. It was a yellow diagonal cross on a blue background. It looked to be a finely made banner. What they would see would be a shield wall. It would look like the normal Viking formation. The archers were hidden behind three rows of shields. We would look like a small and vulnerable warband. Just over thirty men made up each rank. When the first of the fyrd hundred and the mercenaries hit us then they would outnumber us two to one. I glanced to my left. There stood Ylva. Sitting on the side of the hill she was weaving using a spindle. The Danes would see it and would keep clear of her. She looked so vulnerable. She was just six hundred paces from us but it seemed further. I feared for her.

  The Danes and Hibernians stepped into the river. They would not be able to keep their formation while crossing it. The river was relatively low for it was not the wet season and the tide was out but they were still in danger from the deeper parts. I saw one mailed Dane disappear beneath the waters. Men struggled to keep their balance. The fyrd was having an easier time of it. They had reached the middle without losses. The Danes were less than a hundred and fifty paces from us while the Saxons were at the extreme range of my archers. They were two hundred and fifty paces away. It was time. I raised my spear.

  Sámr’s voice came from behind me, “Release!”

  A hundred arrows flew over our heads. They were spread out along the river. They could not see the enemy but we had marked out the range and they knew their busi
ness. The arrows rained down. The Hibernians bore the brunt of the deaths and wounds. They did not wear mail. The fyrd suffered too but three Danes were hit in that first strike. Shields came up as the second and third arrow storm struck. As the fyrd came closer so they took more hits. I saw King Beorhtwulf point his spear and shout something. The next two hundreds raced forward to follow the first. The Danes were the only ones who were approaching in any kind of order. The first warriors were struggling through the mud but would soon be upon us.

  I donned my helmet and shouted, “Shields and spears!”

  The Danes and Hibernians had now come into the range of my slingers and stones began to rattle like hail on helmets and shields. Men fell. Hibernians died. I had endured such storms. They were deadly at worst and disconcerting at best. The Danes with open face helmets were at the greatest risk

  As one our shields were swung around. The middle six warriors in our front rank were all Ulfheonar. Next to us were Sven Stormbringer and Snorri Gunnarson. All of us were mailed and we were ready. The Danish wedge had disintegrated. Eight of their number did not make the northern bank of the Ēa Lōn. They wore sealskin boots and the caltrops did not affect them but the Hibernians, who had lost twenty of their number, did suffer. As they were disrupted then the arrows found more flesh. Instead of being hit by more than two hundred and twenty men we were hit first, by forty Danes and then thirty Hibernians.

  Sámr’s voice came from behind me. Baldr on his horse had a good view of the battle. He was advising his friend. “Archers switch targets.”

  With my slingers and archers concentrating their missiles on the hundred, the fyrd broke and fled. They took the shortest route back. They ran across the river. They broke up the next one hundred crossing the river. The Danes formed up. The Hibernians did no such thing. Enraged by their losses they hurled themselves at us. They struck Sven Stormbringer and his men. Sven’s men’s spears darted out and impaled the wild men who literally threw themselves at our shields. I have fought these men before. When fighting other Hibernians such tactics worked. Against stout Vikings they were doomed to failure. They did not have the numbers they had planned and our wall of spears defeated them. With the next two bands of the fyrd making their way across the river we could concentrate on the most dangerous of our enemies, the Danes.

  I saw Einar Man Splitter. He was coming for me. I could not resist taunting him. “The witch watches and spins still. There is a knot for you Dane and Ragnar’s Spirit wishes to drink Danish blood.”

  Doubt would be in his mind. I could not see his face for it was covered, as was mine by a facemask. He shouted, “Kill them!”

  They raced at us. One of his younger warriors was more eager and faster than his jarl or perhaps Einar Man Splitter wished to increase his chances of survival. The young warrior had an open face helmet and as his spear struck my shield I rammed my own spear into his mouth. The spear head came out of the back of his head and his falling body pulled the spear from my hand. I drew Ragnar’s spirit as Einar Man Splitter swung his Danish axe at my shield. I angled my shield and the axe struck the boss. It was a good blow for I felt it even behind the metal, wood and sheepskin. I think it was a blow which normally brought victory. He pulled back his arm for a second strike. That was the problem with an axe unless you did as Olaf and Rolf were doing and swinging them in a figure of eight before you, then you had but one strike. I rammed my sword over his shield towards his helmeted face. It would be a lucky strike if I killed him but the blow was hard enough to drive his head back and I punched with my shield at the same time. His hand was coming down with the axe. My boss caught his hand and hit it so hard that he dropped the axe. I saw a gap between shield and body and I lunged downwards. Ragnar’s Spirit had a tip and the point went through the mail and his byrnie. It entered his body just above his waist. As blood spurted I twisted and pulled. Entrails and guts came with it as Einar Man Splitter fell. It was a mortal wound.

  My Ulfheonar had killed their bravest and best. When Einar fell the remaining Danes fled. They raced, with the handful of Hibernians who had survived the attack towards the river. As they did so then Erik Short Toe, who had brought the drekar as close as he dared, had his archers send their arrows towards them. My men began banging their shields for the fyrd had stopped advancing and were making a shield wall.

  Baldr shouted, “Jarl Dragonheart, the rest of their army comes and they have horsemen! They race towards Ylva!”

  It was too soon to launch the attack by Ragnar for we needed the whole of their army across the river first. Ylva would be taken. I heard hooves and looked. Baldr had dropped the standard and was racing towards Ylva. I saw, in the distance, the standards of the mounted thegns. They were racing from the east. A group split off to head for Ylva. They would not fight from the back of horses. They would dismount but they would be able to kill the witch and then flank us. Their king had outwitted me. Already the housecarls were moving forward. We would have to endure another attack.

  The Saxons who had crossed the river held their shields up as my archers and slingers kept up their attack. The Saxons now thought they knew my plan and were going to use overwhelming numbers to defeat me. I watched as Baldr galloped towards Ylva. It would be close. I saw then that, unlike the thegns, being a rider was in his blood. I saw a thegn dig his heels into his horse as he sought to reach Ylva. She took out her seax. She would not run. You could not out run a horse. Then Baldr did something quite remarkable. He swung away from Ylva and galloped towards the leading thegn. The other thegns were not as skilled as the leading thegn and were thirty paces behind him. None were as skilled as Baldr. The Saxon had eyes only for Ylva and he did not see Baldr’s blade as it hacked into his side. As the thegn fell from his horse Baldr sheathed his sword and reached down to grab the reins of the Saxon horse. The other thegns were close behind. He stopped by Ylva and turned his horse in case he needed to defend her. He did not. Ylva grabbed the reins and pulled herself into the saddle. The thegns forgot their orders. Ten followed Baldr and Ylva as they led the horsemen towards the priory. Then I saw the hand of the Allfather. The ten thegns would be destroyed by Ragnar and his men. My plan had failed but the Allfather’s would succeed.

  “Double shields and walk backwards! We need to draw them away from the river so that Ragnar and our comrades can fall upon them!” It meant we formed a double line of shields with archers in a single rank behind us. It was not an easy manoeuvre. Haaken began a chant to help us march backwards.

  Ulfheonar, warriors strong

  Ulfheonar, warriors brave

  Ulfheonar, fierce as the wolf

  Ulfheonar, hides in plain sight

  Ulfheonar, Dragon Heart's wolves

  Ulfheonar, serving the sword

  Ulfheonar, Dragon Heart's wolves

  Ulfheonar, serving the sword

  Ulfheonar, warriors strong

  Ulfheonar, warriors brave

  Ulfheonar, fierce as the wolf

  Ulfheonar, hides in plain sight

  Ulfheonar, Dragon Heart's wolves

  Ulfheonar, serving the sword

  Ulfheonar, Dragon Heart's wolves

  Ulfheonar, serving the sword

  I felt a shield in my back and turned. Sámr and Germund were behind me. Sámr held the discarded standard. “I will have to chastise Baldr! He should know never to discard the banner.”

  I laughed, “Perhaps we will forgive him this once.”

  The Saxons had seen our retreat and saw victory. They charged. The housecarls flooded across the river leaving just the King, his priests and his hearth weru on the south side of the river. He was a cautious king.

  “Brace.”

  Most of my front rank had lost their spears and we had swords and axes. The ones who had been in the second and third rank, like Sámr and Germund still held theirs and two spears were thrust over my shoulders. As the thegns charged towards us I saw the first of my men emerge from the ruins. Ragnar and Gruffyd led them. They did not cheer. They wanted to a
chieve surprise. I watched Ketil lead his men towards the river. He was followed by Asbjorn. I heard a Saxon horn. It was recalling the housecarls. It was too little and too late. As the fyrd hit us I swung my sword in an arc. Haaken did the same. With two Danish axes sweeping to my left we had a wall of steel which unarmoured men could not face. My sword tore through the face of one Saxon and down into the shoulder of the next. As they fell Sámr’s spear thrust to impale the next Saxon.

  The thegns dismounted and shouted, “For God, Mercia and King Beorhtwulf!” They were trying to rally their men. They hurled themselves at the men on the left of our line. Ragnar and Gruffyd were leading three warbands to fall upon them and the rear of the fyrd.

  It was time for us to be the anvil against the hammer that was Ragnar and his men. “Now! Push them towards our men! We have them!”

  As our archers sent arrows into the men at the back of the Saxon horde we began to carve our way through them. There was a rhythm to this killing. I slashed down and then swept up and across. I punched with my shield. When I saw a body beneath my feet I stamped. I swung my sword as though it was not part of my body. It belonged to the shield wall. Sometimes I struck two men. They had small shields and no mail. Few had helmets and their swords and spears were made with poor metal. When one Saxon had his spear broken by my shield his companion hit it with his sword. His blade bent and the boss of my shield spread his nose across his face. Germund finished him off.

  There was a roar of ‘Land of the Wolf’! Followed by a crack like thunder and a wail of pain. Ragnar and his warbands had hit the rear of their line. These were not housecarls. They were not oathsworn Danes. They were farmers, swine herders and shepherds. They were ordinary men who trained once a week with their thegn. Their thegns lay dead and they broke. They hurled shields to the ground for they were a weight and they ran. For many the only way to escape was towards the sand and the sea. Erik Short Toe and his men blocked the river and so many of them tried the deadly sands. Few made it but the shellfish who lived there prospered, in the years after, from the bounty of the battle.