by Griff Hosker
“They are dead, lord. All have fallen!” Petr the Slow’s voice was fearful. He had thought I had gone berserk. I had not but the joy of battle had been in me. It sometimes happened that way.
I nodded, “Secure the town. Send for the drekar. We will use this as a longphort now.” I sheathed my sword. The Breton warriors and their lord lay dead. Elsewhere the men who had fought us were now corpses too. The women, old, children and the men who had surrendered were gathered in what must have been the village square. I headed down to the river. Æbbi Bonecrusher followed me. There was a wooden wharf. It would make loading the drekar easier. I saw that there were five ships tied up already. “Have those boats moved upstream and emptied.”
“Aye lord. If the rest goes as well as this we will have an easy victory.”
“I expect a day or so as easy as this and then the Bretons will know we are here. Then they will come for us and we will see who is stronger; Bretons or Vikings!”
By the time dawn broke we had the drekar tied up to the wharf and my men had been fed. Only three crews had had any work to do and so the other crews were sent out to raid the land. Our three crews began to load the drekar and to gather the animals from the settlement. The mail and weapons from the men we had killed were spread amongst the three crews. Lars and Leif’s men were given a disproportionally larger share. My warriors knew it made sense. When we faced the Bretons in battle we needed as many well-armed and mailed men as we could get. Lars and Leif were keen to get more treasure and so they crossed the longphort to raid the northern shore. Gandálfr took his crew there too.
I had Egil and Godwin search the small church and the hall. They knew how to search for papers. I spoke with the priest. He had not offered resistance and so he was allowed to live. He was a brave man for he showed no fear when I questioned him. Padraig had told me that most priests were not afraid of dying. They believed they would go to their heaven. “Who was the lord I slew?”
“Judicael of Nantes. You will pay for his death. He was a cousin of the King. The King had marked him down for a large piece of land in the Cotentin!”
That confirmed what we already knew. The Bretons thought that we were a spent force. So far, we had raided them with one or two boats. This raid was different although they did not know it yet. We had almost five hundred men.
“And who is the lord who rules this land?”
“That would be the King’s son, Pascweten. He is Lord of Vannes.” I nodded. The priest asked, “And what will happen to us?”
“To you?”
“The people of Hennebont. The ones you have not slaughtered.”
“Do not try my patience priest. When your King Alan sent men to raid the Haugr they slew all. I have been restrained.”
He looked contrite, “And that is why I ask about our fate, lord.”
“When we have had enough of this land we will ask the Lord of Vannes if he wishes to buy you. If he does not then we will sell you in Dorestad or Bruggas.” I saw the priest wrestling with his thoughts. “The outcome is in the hands of Pascweten. I care not who pays for you so long as someone does.” I had no doubt that they would be bought by Pascweten, son of the King. This was the land which was closest to his heartland. If he lost this then he risked losing all. He would pay.
Egil and Godwin found small chests of coins as well as many jewels. The wife of the lord had expensive tastes. She also thought that she was better than her people. She objected to being in such close proximity to her people. My men just herded them even closer just to annoy her. There were maps and papers as well as a finely decorated holy book. With the candlesticks and altar linen from the church we had already made a rich haul. My men began to slaughter the animals. We had an army to feed and although we would take some animals back it made sense to take the younger ones. The older and larger animals were butchered. Some of the meat would be salted. There were wine and ale barrels which we would empty and then fill with salted meat. Most of the meat was put on to cook. We had many mouths to feed. We had large fires and took the huge cauldrons from the hall. Along with the vegetables we had taken and the bread our warbands would eat well when they returned.
Petr Jorgensen came to me as the animals began to be slaughtered. “Lord, we have found six horses. I would take my men and scout ahead of the warbands.”
“Good. If you can get to Vannes then so much the better.”
“We will try.”
I went to the drekar. Erik Leifsson was in command. He was my captain and so would command all the other drekar. The drekar were not yet secured. “Lord I would be happier if we faced downstream. We have time to do it now while there is daylight and we are empty. The river is high and it will be easier than if we try to move them in a rush. The two warbands who headed north will not need to cross until later. We have time.”
“You are in command, Erik. It is your decision.”
He looked relieved, “Thank you lord.”
I pointed to the Breton boats, “Before we leave we will destroy these ships. Take whatever gear you need from them.”
“They are good ships.”
“And we will not have enough crew for them. We need to hurt the Bretons. Losing their boats, their wharf and their animals will do that.”
All that remained was to await the return of my warbands. Æbbi Bonecrusher and my men had organised food for us. They had roasted some meat on the fire. We sat in the lord’s hall and ate from his metal platters. They would be taken home with us. We drank from goblets and not horns. The meat was cooked to perfection. Charred on the outside, bloody juices ran down our chins. We used bread to mop up the gravy that remained on the platters.
Haaken the Bold said, “I could get used to this, lord.”
I nodded, “One day, when you tire of being hearth weru and take a woman then you can have a hall and do this every day.”
He shook his head, “There are just nine of us left now, lord. I doubt that any of us will enjoy an old age.” He laughed, “And that is why we became your oathsworn. It will be a short life but a glorious one!”
My other men all cheered and banged the table. It seemed to be a common view. Egil and Godwin ate with us and I saw, from their faces, that they had a different future picked out for themselves. That was also good.
The first of the warbands arrived back in the middle of the afternoon. It was Ragnar the Resolute. They were driving cattle and they had captives with them. As four men sported wounds they had not had it all their own way. Over the next few hours the rest returned and all had been successful. Two men had died and twenty wounded but it was a small price to pay for the success we had enjoyed. Every church and farm east of the river for twenty miles had been ransacked. Gandálfr, Lars and Leif had also had great success to the west.
Sámr had managed to go the furthest east. Petr had passed him on his way to Vannes. “Men did escape, lord. Two men on horses fled as we approached. I am sorry.”
“It was to be expected. All it means is that we move east tomorrow and choose our own battleground.” I waved a hand at the captives, the animals and the treasure. “It is hard to see how we could take back any more. Erik can begin to load the ships tomorrow. The men of Valognes have done well today. They can guard the longphort and the captives. There were just forty men who came from Ubba’s home and they have suffered the greatest losses in the raid so far.” I put my arm around Sámr, “Now eat! The food is good and before we go I would like to drink all the wine, ale and cider!”
Petr and his men rode in after dark. They had four spare horses. “Lord there are men heading for Vannes. The countryside is filled with Breton riders. We slew four of them. It means I can mount another four men tomorrow and we can find them.”
“Do not take risks!”
He laughed, “Lord the riders are Bretons and they are good but they carry spears. They could have ten times our number and I would not fear them.”
I spoke with all of my lords and discovered that the best site for a battle woul
d be a few miles east of our position. There was a fjord like feature which meant one side of our battle line would be protected by the sea while on the other side there was low lying ground. The small piece of high ground meant the Bretons would find it difficult to outflank us. More importantly the Bretons would have further to march from Vannes to reach us. They would be tired. We would all be well fed and rested.
We left before dawn. Petr and his archers sped ahead of us. We would not be surprised. We marched in warbands. I led with Sven. Lars and Leif’s men guarded one flank while Saxbjǫrn and Ragnar the other. Gandalf brought up the rear. Although most of the farms and houses had been raided my men still found treasure, animals, pots and linens in the empty buildings we passed. We fired them when they had been ransacked.
We were just a mile from the battle field when Ulf rode in, “Lord there are twenty Breton riders heading this way.”
“Shield wall! Archers!”
My crew had twenty men armed with bows and they formed up behind our three ranks of spears. We were so quick that despite the Bretons being mounted we were ready for them. The Bretons liked to line their fields with shrubs and trees. We were unseen until the last moment. When they rode over the small rise they had a shock when they were confronted by a solid wall of Vikings.
“Loose!” The twenty archers sent their missiles over our heads. Some found flesh and others found horses. The effect was dramatic. Leaving one dead warrior they fled. King Alan and his son would know where we were. The question remained what would they do about it?
We reached the ground which Bergil Fast Blade had discovered. It was perfect. It allowed us to have a line of warriors one hundred men across. With well over forty archers behind us the rest of our men would be a reserve, led by Ragnar. They would fill any gaps. Saxbjǫrn and his small band of hardened and mailed warriors would be our anchor on the left. Sven was on the right. Sámr and Bergil were on either side of me. The men had time to empty their breeks and make water on the low boggy area to the north of Saxbjǫrn the Silent. Saxbjǫrn used some rocks to make a small wall as added protection. We waited.
Not long after noon our archers rode in. “Lord they come. The Bretons have two hundred horsemen. The rest of their army is a mixture of men with spears and farmers. They number more than five hundred.” He paused, “There are Vikings with them.”
“Beorn Straight Hair?”
He shrugged, “I would be guessing if I said so. There is a small warband of them. I would say no more than forty. Some have the Danish axe.”
I knew then that we had not accounted for all of Godfrid’s band or perhaps the Bretons had hired Danes. It mattered not. “You have done well. Join the archers and take command of them.”
The Breton scouts appeared first. These were the ones we had bloodied and they had learned their lesson. They halted some distance from us. Two turned and rode back, no doubt to report to whoever led the Bretons. My men had had time to eat and to drink. Our weapons were sharp and the wait had allowed us to examine the ground over which we would fight. A good warrior knew that stepping upon a rock at the wrong time could be disastrous. Battles were often decided by such things. A warrior who slipped and fell could cause a shield wall to be breached and a battle lost.
Egil had my standard behind me so that they would know who came to punish them. I held a spear. If they used horses then a solid wall of spears was the most effective deterrent. Their army began to filter before us. They spread out. I almost laughed for if they came at us with the full length of line that they arrayed then they would become severely disordered when they came to the pinch point. It was then that I realised the King was not with them. Had Fulk le Roux drawn off the King? The leader had polished armour and I took it to be Pascweten. He and his oathsworn rode horses. I saw that he had fifty mailed men and they looked, from a distance, to be using stiraps. I also saw the Vikings. They were led by Beorn Straight Hair for I recognised his shield.
Someone must have advised Pascweten for he drew in the men on the flanks. I saw then that he intended to break us in the centre. The Vikings and the farmers lined up on the enemy right. There were well over two hundred or more of them. The presence of Bjorn would please Saxbjǫrn. He would have vengeance. On the enemy left they had the rest of the foot. The centre was made up of their horsemen. Pascweten looked to have divided them into two. I knew that the Bretons liked to use throwing spears and darts. The first group of horsemen were so armed. The ones with stiraps formed the second group and they had lances. It was a good plan. The throwing spears could be sent without fear of our spears. What they did not know was the number of archers we had brought. They would hurt the light horses and their riders!
I saw that the Bretons had brought their priests and their crosses. We had a weapon to counter their cross. We began banging our shields and chanting.
Clan of the Horseman
Warriors strong
Clan of the Horseman
Our reach is long
Clan of the Horseman
Fight as one
Clan of the Horseman
Death will come
The chant seemed to roll along the line and down to the water. It felt almost hypnotic. I knew that it made me feel as though I was no longer alone. I was part of a greater being and entity. I was part of the clan and we were unstoppable.
Above the chants and the banging, I heard the strident notes of a horn. The Bretons began to advance. “Lock shields.” Our shields came around as one and clicked as they touched. The spears of the front rank were braced against our right feet while those of the second and third ranks appeared above our shoulders. I saw the Breton line move. The horsemen moved quicker and they would be the ones who would hit us first. Pascweten was counting on his men’s ability to weaken us so that when he charged with his lances they would strike at the same time and he would break our line in two. His father would not have tried such a move. He would have known that we would not be shifted. The son was trying to show that he was a greater leader than his father! The horses thundered on the uneven ground as they headed towards us. These men would stop thirty paces from us and throw their javelins. If they were skilled then they would wheel and do so. As they neared us I saw that they held three such weapons in their hands. That meant three such attacks to be endured. Petr needed no orders. My archers were on a slightly higher piece of ground. They could not see over me but they could over the rest of my men. Petr would judge when to launch his arrows. All the time the men on foot were drawing ever closer. My captain of archers did it to perfection. As the horsemen began to wheel and draw back their arms the arrows fell. They found flesh both human and equine. Equally important they disrupted the men who were throwing. It is hard to concentrate when arrows are falling. Even so many of the javelins hit us but we all had large shields and we saw the spears coming for us. Some were slow to react and javelins found their bodies. The duel of archers and horsemen continued until the Bretons had used up their supply. Less than half rode back towards their main line.
I took out the throwing spear which had stuck in my shield and I rammed it haft first into the soft soil. Others did the same. Some took the javelins to return them to the Bretons. The wounded were taken to the healers in the rear and they were replaced so that we had a solid line of unwounded warriors.
The two bodies of foot were even closer now and Pascweten led his horsemen. They tried to keep a straight line so that their attack could be more effective. It was neutralized by the uneven terrain. This time the hooves thundered for they were bigger horses and the riders mailed. There were, however, fewer of them. Horns sounded and the men on foot raced towards my men. There were no archers to keep them at bay for I had all of the archers. Petr launched his arrows a little earlier. I saw one horse struck by three arrows. Its head fell and it pitched the rider to hit the ground. Before he could recover he was trampled by his comrades. The horse and rider made a gap for riders had to ride around the obstacle. I had used a spear on a horse myself a
nd I knew when they would strike. They had stiraps and they would stand in them and ram their spears towards us. We were ready for such a move. The men who had picked up throwing spears hurled them at the horsemen. Throwing from the ground gave them a greater range and I saw some horses and riders struck.
“Brace!” I leaned behind my shield and angled my spear a little more.
Many of the horses baulked and would not complete the charge. Others did as they were ordered but struck a spear. Our spears had long metal heads and could do terrible damage to an animal. I heard a crack like thunder as the men on foot hit my other shield walls. The battle was now engaged all the way along the line. We were outnumbered but the Bretons had already taken the greater number of casualties. Pascweten was not in the front rank. He was in the third line of horsemen. Wearing open face helmets, I saw greybeards. These were veterans. These were the men who had fought alongside my brother. These had fought alongside and against Vikings. They knew how to fight us. This Pascweten knew his business.
The rider who rode at me did as I expected and stood in his stiraps. He lunged down with his spear. It was almost eight feet long. I moved my spear to the left. He had a good horse. He had a brave horse. His spear hit my shield and I slightly angled it. I heard the metal of the head as it scratched and scraped along the metal studded shield. My spear hit the horse in the shoulder and its speed drove the spear head deep within its body. I let go of the spear and put my weight behind the shield. The horse was mortally wounded. Its heart told it to continue but it did not have the strength. Its head dropped and I saw the rider, still standing in his stiraps trying to save himself. The dying horse hit my shield and I would have been bowled over if I had not had warriors pushing their shields into my back. The rider flew from the saddle. Egil was so busy pushing that he forgot about the standard. The pointed tip struck the Breton in the throat. The standard was torn from Egil’s grip as the dying warrior sailed to land behind the third rank of warriors.