The Great Heathen Army

by H A CULLEY

  He said that slightly wistfully. I hadn’t thought about that until he mentioned it. It would solve my immediate money problems, but I didn’t realise then that it would actually make us rich.

  He rode away and I watched them go wondering if I should have asked if we could go with him. It would have given us more security. However, I had no idea what this Edmund of Bebbanburg would have made of our motley group, especially the Danes. Besides, I had got used to being my own man and didn’t fancy somebody else ordering me around. On balance I think I preferred to remain with our little group. Perhaps I should have asked the others, but was fairly certain that I knew what they would have said.

  There were two young thralls who had stayed with the snekje when it ran aground. They turned out to be Picts from the far north. They didn’t speak either English or Danish, but they did understand Norse, which wasn’t too different to Danish: similar enough for us to communicate at any rate. The two were brothers called Cináed and Uurad and they claimed to be Christians, much to our surprise. They belonged to the Celtic Church, unlike the rest of us who were followers of the Church of Rome; but still, they weren’t heathens, as I had supposed.

  Their settlement had been raided and they were the only survivors. They had only been spared because the Vikings had lost three ships’ boys in a storm and, being fourteen and fifteen, they were old enough to replace them.

  The longship proved to be a veritable treasure trove. Each sea chest, and there were thirty one of them, contained the owner’s share of plunder. We also found pouches of silver coins and hacksilver on the bodies. I put aside those items that obviously belonged to the Church, intending to hand them over to the abbot at Hagustaldes. However it wasn’t something that the three Danes understood. They maintained that these items were legitimate plunder.

  It was the first time that there was an argument caused by our different religious beliefs. They didn’t understand that these objects were sacred to our religion. I didn’t know whether they had buildings in which they worshipped and whether those places had sacred objects, or not. From their attitude I suspected not.

  The conflict over the division of the spoils got serious and I had to intervene.

  ‘These items belong to me as your jarl’ I said as forcefully as I could. ‘I determine who deserves what reward; it’s not a matter for general discussion. If you don’t like my decision then you are welcome to challenge me for the position as your leader.’

  I glared around me but no one met my eye except Leofflæd, who mouthed ‘well done’ at me. I felt as if I was walking on air.

  ‘Well then, items stolen from a church go to the abbot. I will take half the rest to pay for future expenses and we will divide the rest up between us equally.’

  It wasn’t that simple to determine the relative values of items other than silver, which was determined by weight. No one even knew the value of the few gold coins, let alone gold broaches encrusted with jewels. Anything difficult to value I put in my pile to save further argument. To be honest there were times when I wished we hadn’t discovered so much plunder. It wasn’t as if they had anywhere to spend it; at least, not until the spring came.

  As we began the journey back to the fort a few flakes of sleet stung our faces. Winter was coming.

  Redwald was waiting anxiously for us when we got back. The ealdorman had called out the local fyrd and women and children had fled up into the hills. Disappointingly he sent no one to our rescue and so it was a good job that we had managed to eliminate the Norse Vikings on our own.

  The next day I rode to Hagustaldes to hand back the Church’s property. Now it was the abbot’s problem to sort out which church or monastery owned what. I also told the ealdorman about the Norse Vikings. I doubt if he would have believed me, thinking me a lying braggart, if it wasn’t for the items I’d returned to the abbot for safekeeping.

  Chapter Seven

  Spring 867

  The winter passed uneventfully. The Danes had grown curious about Christianity and between us we managed to satisfy their curiosity. In return they told us about their beliefs. It was far more complex that I had imagined with so many gods and goddesses, a world tree called Yggdrasil, and the various realms including Niflheim, Hel and Asgar, which included Valhalla.

  When probed about the details they became defensive and I thought it best to abandon the discussion. Later Erik, Ulf and Tove came to me separately to ask about becoming Christians and I explained about baptism.

  We also passed the time by teaching Cináed and Uurad how to fight, use a bow and to ride. We couldn’t go far – the snow was too deep – but they grasped the basics. They also learned to speak both English and Danish after a fashion.

  When the snows melted and the roads were passable again I took the three Danes to see the abbot and he arranged for them to be baptised. I think it was more to do with feeling more included in the group than it did with religious conviction. In practical terms it made little difference as we had no priest, nor did we observe fast days or saint’s days.

  They exchanged their Mjölnirs for simple silver crucifixes which I had bought for them but, contrary to normal practice, they decided to keep their original names instead of adopting Anglo-Saxon ones. Whilst I was in Hagustaldes I also managed to purchase two docile mares for the two Picts to ride, a second pack horse and more leather tents.

  In late March we sat down to discuss where we should go next. Ecgberht thought that we should stay where we were, go hunting, plant crops and fish, much to his sister’s disgust, but the rest craved a more exciting life. I spent some time thinking about the future but came to no conclusions. If we ventured south we would inevitably run into the Great Heathen Army; if we travelled north we could ask to join Ealdorman Edmund’s warband, but that didn’t have much appeal as I doubted that he would accept us as fully fledged warriors, given our youth.

  One other option was to use the longship we had captured. Most of us knew little about ships, but the two Picts knew how to sail her, as did Jerrik and Øwli from their time as ship’s boys. What we lacked was a steersman and the numbers and strength to row her. If we could overcome those problems we could sail down the East Coast and land Alric, Jerrik and Øwli somewhere in Cent. They could then return home.

  When I tentatively suggested this one evening all three said that they would rather remain with the group. The idea of using the longship was met with some enthusiasm, however.

  One idea mooted was to sail up the River Uisge pretending to be Norsemen eager to join the heathen army and then set fire to as many of their fleet as we could. That would restrict their freedom to operate. If we could burn a significant number of longships they would be largely confined to the land, and thus be prevented for striking wherever they pleased without warning.

  ‘But where will we find enough rowers and a steersman?’ Redwald said. ‘The eldest of us could learn to use an oar, I suppose, but that would give us five or six at most; and we would need training.’

  ‘Was there a port at the mouth of the Tinan,’ I asked Cináed, the elder of the two Picts.

  ‘No, not as such’ he said shaking his head, ‘only a fishing settlement.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I think we should go there and see if we can recruit the crew we need.’

  Ϯϯϯ

  I’ll never know whether we could have done so. The thirteen of us packed everything we had into our saddlebags and onto the two packhorses, including two small chests containing our silver, and set off into a rainstorm. We left the cart behind as being too cumbersome and it was with a certain amount of regret that I bade farewell to the old Roman fort that had been our home for the past five months.

  We were teaching the two Picts how to act as scouts and Cináed was riding ahead with Erik as we approached the bridge over the Tinan. Suddenly Cináed came galloping back.

  ‘Jørren, there’s an army crossing the bridge,’ he panted.

  ‘Going north to south or south to north,’ I asked, my heart sinking
.

  If the Danes had decided to invade northern Bernicia we would have to turn around and hope to avoid them by heading west.

  ‘They’re coming from the north,’ he replied and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  It seemed most likely that it was Edmund of Bebbanburg, though where he was going was a mystery. I didn’t know much about Bernicia but I was well aware that it was now sandwiched between the Danes and the Picts. If the army of Deira had been eliminated what chance did he have of defeating them on his own, especially as to do so would leave his northern border undefended?

  I realised later that I was being naïve. Although the Deirans had been scattered outside Eforwic and many had been slain, most had escaped. Ælle and Osbehrt had spent the autumn and winter sending messages to every ealdorman and thegn to gather their men for another assault on Eforwic. This time they had summoned Edmund and the other ealdormen of Bernicia to join them. It was pure chance that we had arrived at the bridge over the Tinan at the same time.

  ‘What should we do, Jørren?’ Alric asked. ‘Join them?’

  ‘Let’s go and see what is happening at least,’ Redwald said eagerly.

  ‘No, I think we should wait for them to pass and carry on with our original plan,’ Leoflӕd urged me.

  I nearly gave into her, but the others clamoured to join the Bernicians and so I gave way. I nearly changed my mind when I saw the look of disappointment in her eyes, but to vacillate like that would lose me the respect of the others so we rode on to the bridge.

  When we got there Erik told me that he estimated the numbers of those already across the river and those waiting to cross at about two thousand, not much more than half the heathens’ numbers.

  We attracted curious stares from the men marching past us, but they didn’t stop and so I couldn’t ask where they were going. Then a party of warriors on horseback appeared. The leader was dressed in expensive chainmail and wore a helmet with a gold circlet around it. Behind him a warrior held a yellow banner but I couldn’t see the device on it as it hung limply in the rain.

  ‘Lord,’ I asked him as he drew level, ‘do you go to fight the Danes?’

  He stopped, as did his escort, but before he could answer another voice spoke up.

  ‘Lord, this is Jørren of Cilleham in Cent who I spoke about.’

  I looked at the banner bearer in surprise, but then I recognised him; it was Wigestan.

  ‘Greetings Jørren of Cilleham, have you changed your mind? Do you now wish to join my warband?’ Edmund said with a smile.

  ‘Do you go to fight the Danes on your own, lord?’

  He gave me an amused look and then laughed.

  ‘You’d like to know if I’m mad before you join me, is that it?’

  ‘We saw the army of Deira routed, lord. I fear you will need more men than this to beat them.’

  ‘No, we go to join King Ælle and his brother. Well, it’s raining and I’m anxious to reach somewhere dry before nightfall. What’s your answer?’

  I was greedy in those days and I thought only of the plunder to be had when we beat the Great Heathen Army, so I nodded.

  ‘Yes, lord, if you’ll have us.’

  ‘Are your boys good scouts?’

  ‘Yes, lord, the best,’ I said proudly.

  ‘Good. It’s what I lack. Join us and tomorrow we’ll see if you’re as good as you say you are.’

  And so we joined the army of Bernicia.

  Ϯϯϯ

  Eforwic looked the same as the last time I’d seen it, except that the breach in the palisade had been repaired. My group had left the vast camp housing nearly four thousand men at dawn to go and recce the task that the two kings and Edmund had set us. Although Edmund was called the Ealdorman of Bebbanburg, in reality he was the sub-king of all Bernicia from the River Tes in the south to Dùn Èideann on the Linne Foirthe in the north.

  We had joined Edmund’s own group of scouts – the three boys we had seen last year and seven more ranging in age from twelve to twenty. I had been given command of the group, much to the disgust of the twenty year old – an Angle named Ceadda. I had just turned sixteen and he felt that he should be in charge as he was four years my senior. However, few of the original ten scouts supported him and, of course, my original group sided with me. Ceadda was forced to accept my leadership but I didn’t trust him. He would need watching and I gave that task to the twelve-year old, Sæwine.

  As the youngest member of the group he was something of a talisman. He was cheeky, but not in a malicious way, and everyone liked him; even Ceadda tolerated him.

  We wouldn’t make much difference in the coming battle with the Danes but we could still play an important role in their defeat. Our task was to destroy as much of their fleet as we could. We hoped that it would be poorly guarded, but even so it was a lot to ask of us. There were ten longships and several knarrs moored along the banks of the Uisge and another forty anchored out in the middle of the river.

  I had decided to ignore the knarrs. They were merchant ships used for freight and transporting horses which relied on the wind for propulsion. Most only had six oars for manoeuvring them in harbour and so they were unsuited to raiding. If we could sink or burn the bulk of the longships, the Danes would be trapped on land where they could be hunted down; at least that was the theory.

  I studied the area where the fleet was kept and the ships themselves for some time before devising a plan. Meanwhile the rest of my scouts familiarised themselves with where everything was so that they could find their targets in the dark.

  Back at the camp I explained what I proposed. Everyone thought that it could work; everyone except Ceadda and his friend, Hroðulf that is. They kept trying to pick holes in the plan and were thoroughly negative. Hroðulf was eighteen and, like Ceadda, resented me. They were also openly xenophobic when it came to the three Danes and the two Picts. Leofflæd also came in for a lot of scorn. They obviously thought that a girl had no place alongside warriors. That didn’t stop the two of them lusting after her.

  The first problem I had was to eliminate the watch who guarded the fleet. This seemed to be provided by the ships’ boys, who helped to man the longships at sea, men with grey beards who were long past their best fighting days, and the steersmen. All told there were some two hundred Danes in total; far too many for my little band of twenty three to handle.

  Luckily each of the forty ships out in the river had an anchor watch aboard, which reduced the numbers ashore. It was difficult to count how many as the ships were rafted together. Some appeared to be deserted whilst on others sizeable groups were playing games of chance, drinking or doing maintenance work. I estimated that there were probably the best part of a hundred of them all told. However, that still left odds of four to one on shore for us to tackle.

  We returned some four hours after sunset and I divided my boys into four groups, one for each of the camp fires burning below, putting Leofflæd, Redwald and Wealhmær, one of the Bernician scouts, in charge of the other groups.

  I led my group towards the easternmost fire. I had chosen Alric, Cei, Tove, Ecgberht and Hroðulf. The latter was there to split him from Ceadda. I had put Ceadda and Sӕwine in Redwald’s group.

  There were four Danes, all greybeards, sitting around the campfire. I guessed that another twenty or thirty were asleep in a nearby store hut. We strung our bows and I pointed out their targets to Alric, Cei and Ecgberht. The other two - Tove and Hroðulf - were there to take out any of the four we missed or only wounded. I took aim at my man and hissed ‘now.’

  I hit my man in the throat and two of the others died without a sound. However Ecgberht’s arrow only wounded his man. The other two released their arrows almost immediately and finished the job, but not before the wounded Dane had uttered a cry of alarm. Thankfully it didn’t wake anyone in the store hut but someone on one of the anchored longships called across to ask if anything was wrong. Sound travels a long way over water at night but there was nothing that the watch out in the river c
ould do in time. That didn’t stop them from raising the alarm on shore, of course.

  Thankfully Tove had the presence of mind to call back that one of the silly old fools had burnt himself in the fire. That evinced a laugh and I clapped Tove on the back to congratulate him. He hardly sounded like an old man but perhaps they thought that one of the ships’ boys had joined the men.

  My main worry was the Danes who sat around the other camp fires. Two men at the next one along got to their feet, but they were cut down by arrows before they could do anything. There were sounds of alarm from the other two groups but, again, they were quickly silenced by other archers.

  We listened for any sounds from within the buildings where the rest slept but there was nothing. I eased open the door to be greeted by a waft of fetid air and the sound of snoring and the odd fart. There must have been thirty Danes asleep inside, mostly men but there were quite a few boys as well. We set about our grisly task, starting with the boys.

  They ranged from twelve to fifteen. Some would have been thralls and some the sons of warriors. I hated killing them like a thief in the night, especially the thralls, but if we spared any we would all be dead. I put my hand over the mouth of the first one. His eyes shot open in alarm as I slit his throat, then closed his lifeless eyes as he still looked at me with reproach. I dreamt about those eyes for months afterwards.

  I moved onto the next one and this time I avoided looking at his face as I drew my dagger across a throat still devoid of an adam’s apple. When he was dead I closed his eyes and looked at him. He was probably eleven or twelve and I felt worthless. I had to grit my teeth, however, and I moved onto the next one. This was an old man with a grey beard that covered his throat in thick hair. I couldn’t risk trying to saw through it and so I stabbed him in the eye. The point entered his brain and he died instantly.

  I glanced around me. The others were finishing off the last few and we all sat there when we were done morosely contemplating the slaughter we had committed. I was sick of killing and very nearly vowed to become a monk at that point in my life. However, I couldn’t afford to let my emotions overcome me. This was only the start of what we had to do that night.