by H A CULLEY
It was only then that I noticed that each of the pyres had a living person tied up amongst the corpses.
‘It is customary amongst the Norse to sacrifice a few thralls to serve the dead in Valhalla,’ Erik whispered to me.
‘The Norse?’ I queried, watching horrified as the flames consumed living human beings along with the dead.
‘Vikings from Norweġ, Snæland and Orkneyjar. Not every warrior down there comes from Danmǫrk. There are some from Sweoland as well.’
I wasn’t really listening. I had a horrible thought that Alric might be one of those poor thralls being roasted alive. Then I told myself that I couldn’t think like that. They were more likely to be people captured in Lindocolina. I turned back into the settlement saying that we needed to find food. It was an excuse; I couldn’t bear to watch the cremations any more. The others seemed equally glad to tear their eyes away from the grisly sight.
We were in a sombre mood as we started to check inside the buildings that hadn’t been torched. We didn’t find anything, which is what we’d expected. What we hadn’t noticed was how dark the sky had become, mainly because of the pall of smoke overhead. Then the wind got up, blowing the smoke away and I saw a flash of lightning illuminate the greyness. A few seconds later a crash of thunder overhead made the horses buck and rear so that Cei and Tove had trouble controlling them.
‘We need to find shelter,’ I yelled. ‘Heavy rain is coming,’ I added pointing to the east where you could see thick streaks slanting down from the clouds overhead.
Ulf spotted a small hall nearby, probably the home of a wealthy merchant or a minor noble. It had a building to the rear which proved to be stables; even better there was hay and a barrel of oats. After we had unsaddled and fed the horses Cei and Tove volunteered to stay and calm them whilst we checked the hall. By now torrential rain was falling outside and we made a hurried dash for the door into the hall.
We were so intent on not getting soaked we forgot the usual precautions and the four of us tumbled into the hall without checking it first. It was gloomy inside, so much so that at first we couldn’t see anything. Then I suddenly became aware of somebody running towards me with a spear held horizontally.
Thankfully I reacted quickly and I jumped to one side, just avoiding the point. The person wielding the spear couldn’t stop in time, so intent were they in thrusting their spear into me as hard as they could. I raised my fist and punched him on the point of his chin. My assailant crashed to the floor unconscious whilst I nursed my hand, convinced that I’d broken one or more bones as a result of the impact.
A sharp cry came from my right and I whirled around, my hand reaching for my sword. Erik had raised his arm to ward off a blow from an axe wielded by what looked like a girl. Thankfully it was the haft, and not the sharp blade that had connected with his forearm. Redwald leaped at whoever it was and the two of them crashed to the ground, the axe spinning free.
Our eyes were now getting accustomed to the dark interior of the hall and I could see that Erik’s attacker was indeed female. By her size she appeared to be fifteen or sixteen. She fought like a she-wolf as Ulf and Redwald hauled her to her feet. I turned the spearman onto his back and saw that it was a boy a year or so older than me.
I went and found some rope in the stables, getting thoroughly drenched in the process, and we tied the vixen of a girl and her unconscious companion to two stout chairs. I examined Erik’s arm, which seemed to be no more than badly bruised, and then sat down opposite our two captives and waited patiently for her to calm down and for him to wake up.
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We mean you no harm,’ I told them when the boy eventually came to and groggily looked around him.
‘You’re not Danes?’ the girl exclaimed in surprise.
‘Some of us are,’ I admitted. ‘But they are my men and I come from Cent.’
When she looked blankly at me I added ‘from Wessex’ and she relaxed a little.
‘Where are your parents?’ I asked after introducing myself and the others.
‘The Danes murdered them,’ she said she said looking at Erik venomously. ‘And my betrothed.’
‘I’m sorry. We’ve followed the heathen army across half of England and I fear it’s an all too familiar story,’ I smiled at her sympathetically and she nodded. ‘How did you two escape?’
‘Father built a small chamber under the floor for exactly this sort of emergency. Regrettably they were out visiting the Ealdorman when the alarm was sounded. They rushed back and put us in the hole but, before they could join us, some pagans rushed into our hall and killed them both.’
‘They didn’t find you?’
‘Obviously not,’ she said with some asperity. ‘We heard them searching the place and then they left. Thankfully we stayed where we were because another group came and ransacked the place again the following day.’
‘You had food and water down there?’
‘Untie me and I’ll show you.’
‘Only if you promise to behave.’
‘You can release Ecgberht too,’ she said nodding.
‘The boy who tried to run me through?’
‘Yes, who else?’ she said scathingly. ‘He’s my brother.’
‘And what’s your name?’ I asked. ‘Leofflæd?’ I suggested sarcastically.
It meant beloved beauty and was the most unsuitable name I could think of for this fiery little vixen.
‘How did you know?’ she asked, looking genuinely surprised.
I shook my head, amazed that I’d guessed correctly.
‘Very well, cut them free,’ I told the others.
The chamber under the floor was well concealed. Unlike most floors of beaten earth, this one was made of timber planks. The entrance looked like the rest of the floor and was located under a large coffer that stood open and empty. Steps led down into a small room lined in more timber.
There was a bench to sit on and even a small table, but what caught my eye was the shelves on which sat several large cheeses, haunches of smoked ham and venison, apples and earthenware jars full of lentils, flour and pulses. Several strings of onions hung down from the ceiling and there were leather flasks full of ale and mead. It was a virtual treasure trove. Coupled with the fodder in the stables, there was enough there to keep us provisioned for some time to come. The problem would be carrying it all.
‘We’ll let you have it if you let us come with you,’ Leofflæd said, drawing me out of my daydream in which I was feasting on what lay before me.
‘I was thinking of buying it from you,’ I replied.
‘And then what would we eat?’ she scoffed. ‘Besides, there is nothing here for us now. Our parents are dead and our friends will be too, or worse – they’ll be slaves.’
‘Can you fight?’ I asked. I expected her to admit that she couldn’t; I could then use that as an excuse not to take a girl along with us.
‘Better than I can,’ Ecgberht said, speaking for the first time.
‘Can you use a bow?’ I asked her, recovering from my surprise.
‘Yes, as well as any boy, and some men come to that.’
‘If you can beat me with five arrows, I’ll think about it, but the others will have to agree as well.
‘Where are you?’ a plaintiff voice drifted down to us.
The storm had passed over and Cei and Tove had come looking for us.
‘Down here,’
I climbed back out of the hiding place and told them what we’d found.
‘We need to find a cart to carry it all,’ I said after everyone was back in the hall, ‘but first we need to agree whether Ecgberht and Leofflæd should join us.’
Opinion was divided. I think the girl frightened some and others thought that she would be more of a hindrance than a help. Her younger brother was accepted but, of course, he refused to go if his sister was left behind. Then there was the question of the supplies. Leofflæd quite reasonably said that we could only take the contents of their hiding place
if they were allowed to join us. Ulf muttered in my ear that we could just kill them and take the food anyway, but I ignored him. I wasn’t going to murder anyone in cold blood.
In the end we went outside and put three battered and discarded shields up on a wall as targets and Redwald paced out a hundred yards. I let Leofflæd go first and she put her first arrow near the boss in the Centre of the shield but it was three inches off target. Her brother went next and his was a good six inches too high. I took careful aim, allowing for the wind and trajectory over that distance and put mine in the centre of my target.
After shooting all five arrows I had hit the bull three times and had two near misses. Ecgberht had improved slightly, but only scored one bull. Leofflæd had surprised us all by scoring four bulls after her initial attempt. We were all impressed and even Ulf said that she was welcome to come with us. My little warband now numbered eight.
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I sent Cei and Erik to shadow the Danes the next day to see where they were headed. When they came back they reported that the army was headed for the south bank of the River Hymbre. I assumed, correctly as it turned out, that they were meeting their fleet there who would ferry them over to the north bank. I wondered why they would go to all that trouble but I was soon to find out.
We took the longer, but essentially much quicker road which crossed the River Ðarcy at Tateshalla. Both ended up at Eforwic, which was the most logical destination for the Great Heathen Army. East Anglia had already submitted; if they took Eforwic they would control the North and from there they could sweep down into Mercia. Then only Wessex would remain to oppose them. I feared for our future. By our, I mean that of the Angles, Saxons and Jutes who had made our home on this island for the past three centuries. The name England only emerged as a term for all the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms much later in my life.
Although we were fairly certain that all the Danes travelling overland into Northumbria had headed due north to cross the River Hymbre, we weren’t taking any chances. Two of us took it in turns to scout ahead of the rest of us, encumbered as we were by the cart. It took us three days to reach Tateshalla and when we did Erik and Tove, who were acting as our scouts for the day, came riding back to say that there was a great host defending the bridge over the Ðarcy. They were adamant that they weren’t Danes and so I was left with the conclusion that they must be the army of Northumbria. If so they were in the process of being outflanked.
We rode forward to the south bank of the river and halted a hundred yards from this side of the bridge. I dismounted and walked forward flanked by Redwald and Ecgberht.
‘Leave your weapons the far side of the bridge,’ a large man on a horse called across to us.
I beckoned Cei forward and we handed our swords, seaxes and daggers over to him. Then we walked forward onto the bridge. Three men approached us from the north bank. The one in the Centre was wearing a chainmail byrnie whilst the other two wore leather armour. I took them to be members of some noble’s gesith.
‘Who are you boy? What are you doing here?’ the leader barked at me.
‘My name is Jørren and I’m the youngest brother of a thegn in Cent.’
He started in surprise.
‘Cent? You’re a long way from home!’
‘My other brother is a captive of the pagan army and I seek to rescue him.’
All three men laughed and I flushed with annoyance. It caused me to brag, something I usually tried to avoid.
‘We’ve killed a score of Danes. How many have you slain?’ I asked belligerently.
‘You lie, boy.’
‘No, he doesn’t.’ Redwald said. ‘I was being tortured by three Danes and he killed two of them and captured the third. Tove, come here,’ he called.
The Dane, who was now thirteen and who had put on several inches over the winter, came forward to join us.
‘These men don’t believe that we killed all the Danes in your group and that Jørren rescued me singled handed.’ Redwald said.
‘It’s true’ he said in slightly accented English. ‘Jørren knocked me out and captured me. Only three of us survived the attack; he, Redwald and Cei killed seventeen men.’
‘And now you’ve joined him?’
‘Yes, all three of us did. He is now our jarl, er, leader.’
The man in the centre pursed his lips.
‘You had better come and tell your tale to the kings.’
Two men stood together at the far side of the bridge. The one on the left was a giant wearing a byrnie, which had been polished until it shone, over an embroidered crimson tunic, an ornate helmet inlaid with gold and a sword with a large jewel for a pommel. It marked him down as important; it also demonstrated that he was vain. The other man looked like him, but he was smaller and less flamboyantly dressed.
‘I’m Ælle, King of Northumbria,’ the giant said in a deep, impressive voice.
Even in Cent we’d heard that he and his brother Osberht were rivals for the throne. The last we had heard was that Ælle had deposed Osbehrt, but the latter wasn’t about to give up easily and had raised an army to try and regain the crown. I was therefore surprised when the king introduced the man standing to his right as his brother. Evidently the two rivals had combined their forces in the face of the Danish threat.
‘Cynige, you will wait here in vain for the heathen army. Their fleet is ferrying them across the Hymbre as we speak. They will be at Eforwic in two days or less.’
A look of panic flitted across Osbehrt’s face but Ælle was made of sterner stuff.
‘How do you know this?’
‘We arrived at Lindocolina just after the Danes had left it. We watched them cremate their dead on the plain below and then many hundred headed off up Ermine Street whilst some two thousand set off towards the coast, presumably to re-join their fleet. The smaller party headed directly north from where the road divides; we took the left fork.’
‘It’s true, Cyning,’ Ecgberht cut in. ‘My sister and I survived the sacking of Lindocolina and joined Jørren. What he says is correct. We shadowed the Danes heading north for a time.’
The two men glanced at each other. They knew that they’d been outwitted. Most of their warriors were on foot, whereas the Danes were either mounted or they could sail up the River Uisge to Eforwic. It would take the army of Northumbria at least two days to get there. It would be a close run thing, but my money was on the Danes reaching Eforwic first.
They broke camp immediately but by the time the last group had departed there was only a few hours of daylight left. We were forgotten in the rush and I decided to camp on the south bank, away from the detritus of the abandoned camp. We were mounted and could easily catch the Northumbrians up the next day, even with our cart.
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We passed a few stragglers as we came to Loidis, the main settlement in Elmet, once a separate kingdom, but now part of Deira, that part of Northumbria south of the River Tes. I saw no point in joining the Northumbrian host; we weren’t here to fight the Danes, just to rescue Alric. So we stayed in Loidis for a few hours.
It gave me the opportunity to buy helmets and seaxes for Ecgberht and Leofflæd. There was no time to order byrnies to fit them but we did find padded gambesons that would give their bodies some protection. I also bought a barrel of arrows tipped with iron that would penetrate chainmail at close range. My stash of silver was running low again, but I hoped we would have the opportunity to obtain more ere long.
We camped north of Loidis that night. I had asked how far Eforwic was and I was told it was a day’s journey on foot. From that I calculated that the Northumbrians, encumbered as they were with a large baggage train, would arrive there the next morning. We spent the next night in a glade by a small river well away from the road some four miles short of the settlement. Tove proved to be an expert trout tickler and the fish made a nice change from our diet hitherto of smoked ham, hard cheese and pottage made from barley, lentils and turnips.
The next day we followed the Ui
sge to the north-west until we found a crossing place. As we crested a rise I saw Eforwic ahead of us. It was bigger than Cantwareburh or Lindocolina but not nearly as big as Lundenwic. Being an old Roman city it was surrounded by high stone walls, but over the last four centuries stone had been taken for buildings, leaving big gaps. Other sections had just collapsed leaving a pile of rubble.
Succeeding kings of Northumbria had mended the walls by inserting sections of timber palisade across the gaps, but two of these sections had recently been torn down, presumably by the Danes during their assault. Whatever garrison had been left behind - probably old men and the youngest members of the fyrd - had obviously been overcome. Now the banners of the pagan leaders flew from the walls.
We didn’t have long to wait until the Northumbrians appeared and deployed ready for battle. As they did so the Danes streamed out through the gaps in the defences and formed a continuous shield wall some six ranks deep outside. I couldn’t understand why they hadn’t made temporary repairs to the walls so that they could defend the settlement, but the reason for that became all too obvious later.
‘Where will the thralls be?’ I asked Erik. ‘In the settlement?’
‘No,’ he said shaking his head. ‘Most likely they will have been left with the fleet.’
‘Then we need to find the ships.’
‘I have heard that the River Uisge is navigable up as far as Yorvik,’ Ulf said.
‘Yorvik?’
‘Our name for Eforwic,’ Erik explained.
‘Where is the fleet likely to be?’ I asked.
All three Danish boys shrugged.
‘It numbers between fifty and sixty longships and so it would need a stretch of beach or river bank long enough to take it,’ Tove answered.
‘Although they could have moored many of the ships in the middle of the river,’ Ulf said thoughtfully.
‘Then we need to explore the north bank of the Uisge downstream from here,’ I decided. ‘Ulf, you’re about my size. May I borrow your Danish clothes?’