by H A CULLEY
After several had been wounded in this way, the Danes became so infuriated that they abandoned their shield wall and charged straight at us, yelling like berserkers.
‘Swords and shields,’ I shouted, dropping my bow and swinging my shield around from by back to my front.
We formed one long line with shields overlapping and sword points protruding above our shields. The Danes crashed into us individually and paid dearly for their uncoordinated attack. We thrust into their virtually unprotected torsos and, although the ferocity of their attack forced us back a step or two, our line held.
I felt a blade strike my helmet but it slid off the surface and thwacked my shoulder. The chainmail held, although I would have a nasty bruise there tomorrow. I disembowelled my attacker before he could do any more damage.
A minute later it was all over. Those wounded in the foot or calf tried to get away but they were easily overtaken and killed. Over a dozen were badly wounded, rather than dead, but I needed this patrol to disappear. So we killed them before hauling all the bodies deeper into the woods. We collected their helmets, weapons and anything of value, which wasn’t as much as I’d hoped, and went back to where we’d left our horses.
All that was left to show that the skirmish had taken place was flattened vegetation and dark patches in the mud where blood had seeped into the ground. Of course carrion birds quickly gathered in large numbers to feast on the bodies, but I hoped that they wouldn’t be visible from any distance.
I breathed a sigh of relief as we rode back to join my wife and our captured herd of horses. At least they should fetch a pretty penny.
Ϯϯϯ
Torksey was surrounded by a vast encampment of Danes. Tents made of leather or untreated woollen material had been erected on three sides of the settlement with the river on the fourth side. I could see the ealdorman’s hall in the centre surrounded by huts and a timber church, but they were lost in the sea of tents.
I estimated that the encampment must have housed between fifteen hundred and two thousand Vikings. Various banners hung from spears thrust into the ground outside some of the huts and the larger tents and I counted fifty or so of these. Erik told me that each jarl and hirsir would have his own banner and so they indicated the presence of the crews of fifty ships. That confirmed my estimate if most longships were crewed by thirty men and a few of the larger ones by sixty or seventy.
A black ram’s head on a red background flew from the top of the hall which, Erik said was the Ubba’s banner. Alongside it was another, smaller, banner with a black raven with its wings spread wide on a faded yellow ground: Ívarr’s banner, which disproved the reports that he had taken his men north-west into Cumbria. Halfdan’s banner was missing, which probably meant that he had remained in the north to hold Eforwic.
The Danes had constructed a ditch and earthen rampart around their camp with a single gap for access in the west. The two ends of the rampart rested on the river where the remains of the Viking fleet was moored. I counted fourteen longships, all that was left of the ships we had burned at Eforwic.
During the day two groups of Danes of a similar size to the one we’d ambushed rode back to their camp. The next day another patrol returned and this seemed to cause great excitement. That afternoon there were evident signs that the Danes were about to leave Torksey. I had been about to attempt a swim across the river to try and ascertain whether the Lady Ealhswith was held captive there. Instead I decided to wait and see whether the heathen horde left.
At dawn the next day the exodus began. It took a long time to bring the horses in from pasture and so the last Danes didn’t leave until midday. Once they had gone, heading upriver, the settlement was eerily quiet. Just before dusk small groups of people started to return to the settlement and I surmised that these were the inhabitants who had fled when the Danes came.
Early the next morning I rode into Torksey with Alric and Leofflæd. We had divested ourselves of armour, mainly so as to appear less threatening but also because we had to cross the river, which we did sitting on our horses and letting them do the work. The inhabitants surrounded us as we entered the settlement, their mood ugly. We had to keep reassuring them that we were friends until we reached the hall.
A man came out of the hall and demanded belligerently to know who we were and what we wanted. By the way he was dressed I assumed that he was either the reeve or the steward; certainly not the ealdorman.
‘We have been sent by Ælfred, Ætheling of Wessex, to escort his betrothed, the Lady Ealhswith to Wintanceaster.’
That seemed to reassure him but he told me that Ealhswith’s father and the whole household had moved to another vill the ealdorman owned at Gæignesburh weeks before the Danes had arrived.
‘Where is Gæignesburh?’
‘To the north on this bank of the river, about a three hour walk from here.’
My heart sank. That was only eight or nine miles away. Even if the main body of the heathens hadn’t come down the river, their fleet would have passed Gæignesburh.
‘Do you know where the Danes have gone?’
‘No, but they appear to have had patrols out for the past week or so, perhaps seeking the whereabouts of King Edmund’s army.’
‘The East Anglians? I thought they had a truce with the Danes?’
He shook his head.
‘It’s rumoured that the heathens sent a demand for King Edmund to provide more money and more horses and he refused. It’s said that he has mustered his army at a place called Hӕgelisdun, and is determined to fight the Danes.’
‘Thank you. Where is the best crossing place as the rest of my men are on the far bank?’
‘There is a bridge at Newercha; that’s the nearest.’
We swam our horses back to the others and, once we had changed into dry trousers, we set off south for Newercha. I did consider swimming everyone across the river but, as the former thralls were novice riders and with so many horses, I decided against it.
Luck was with us. There was a fair at Newercha when we got there and both horses and livestock were being auctioned. I sold twenty five of the horses that day, which added significantly to my wealth, even after giving my men a small pouch of silver each. That still left us with enough horses to mount the boys as well as more pack horses to carry the extra tents and equipment that I bought for them. I also purchased better clothes, shoes, a cloak and a dagger for each one.
We camped that night just outside the settlement and in the morning we set off for Gæignesburh.
Ϯϯϯ
As soon as I saw the settlement I could understand why the Danes had left it alone. It was quite sizeable and protected by a moat, earth ramp and palisade on all four sides. There was a wooden tower at each corner and two more besides each set of gates.
We found the Lady Ealhswith safe and well at the hall but, when I said that we would be riding back to Wintanceaster both she and her father rejected the idea. They insisted that it wouldn’t be seemly for a lady of her standing to ride all that way.
I had been dubious about taking Guthild with us, not least because I feared that it would encourage Alric to develop a relationship with her that was doomed to end in disaster. In fact they had never been alone and, although they spent a lot of time talking together, I was certain that nothing unseemly had taken place. The only downside had been the absence of Leofflæd in my tent as she was sharing with Guthild until we collected Ealhswith. Now Guthild proved her worth.
‘Nonsense, there is nothing wrong with a lady riding. I’m Guthild, daughter of the ealdorman of Hamtunscīr and companion for your daughter until we reach our destination. I’ve ridden all the way here because it’s necessary if we want to avoid trouble and travel swiftly,’ she told Ealhswith and her father in her forthright way.
‘It may be all very well for a Saxon noblewoman,’ Ealhswith replied, her eyes flashing, ‘but we Mercians behave with more decorum. After all I will be marrying the heir to the throne and one day I may be your queen.’
I disliked Ealhswith at that moment and nothing caused me to change my mind in subsequent years.
‘You may become the king’s wife in due course, although we all wish Æthelred a long life I’m sure, but we don’t have queens in Wessex,’ Guthild replied with equal asperity. ‘Besides the king has two sons who may grow to adulthood before their father dies. It will then be up to the Witenaġemot to choose who will become the next king.’
‘Lady,’ I said diffidently. ‘What the Lady Guthild says is correct. A carriage would slow us down, restrict us to certain roads, and make our journey more than twice as long as it needs to be. You can ride I take it?’
She gave me a withering look.
‘Of course, better than you I daresay.’
‘Then it’s settled. We won’t need the carriage then.’
‘What about my clothes, jewels and maids?’
‘I have brought spare horses.’
‘I may be an excellent rider but my maids aren’t.’
‘Then they will have to stay here.’
‘That’s not acceptable!’
‘My wife and Guthild can look after you.’
‘Wife?’ she said studying my warband and the boys, who were still sitting on their horses as we conversed outside the hall.
Leofflæd dismounted and took off her helmet, allowing her long hair to fall down below her shoulders.
‘I’m the wife of Thegn Jørren,’ she said with a smile. ‘Despite my appearance I can assure you that I’m quite capable of looking after you.’
‘You don’t even look like a woman,’ Ealhswith said disparagingly.
‘I assure you that I am. I even have a daughter to prove it,’ Leofflæd said sharply. ‘Not all of us are useless at anything bar embroidery and looking pretty.’
‘That’s enough,’ I cut in before any more damage was done.
I turned to the affronted lady and her parents.
‘Lord, if you wish your daughter to wed Lord Ælfred then I fear that the only safe way of reaching Wessex is on horseback. Otherwise I shall have to return empty handed.’
‘Wait here,’ the ealdorman said brusquely before disappearing back into the hall with his family.
‘Dismount,’ I ordered everyone, fed up with being treated so inhospitably.
I entered the hall to be greeted by the sight of the family huddled in argument a few feet from the door.
‘At least have the courtesy to send for ostlers and servants to tend to my men and our horses, instead of leaving them outside in the sun,’ I said to the ealdorman, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
He flushed and his wife muttered ‘impudence’ loud enough for me to hear.
‘Very well, but please wait outside,’ he said stiffly.
A minute later ostlers and stable boys appeared to take our horses away to water them and servants came out of the hall with bread, cheese and ale. We went and sat in the shade to eat and drink and wait for the ealdorman’s decision. I had cooled down enough to realise that the King of Wessex and his brother might not be very pleased with me if I returned empty handed.
Ten minutes later a servant appeared and invited my wife, Guthild and me into the hall.
‘We have agreed that riding, whilst unusual, might be appropriate in the circumstances. However, my daughter is unhappy at the prospect of travelling to a strange land with people she doesn’t know on her own. My youngest son, Ulfrid, will therefore accompany her.’
A boy who appeared to be eleven or twelve stepped forward and gave me an unfriendly look. I sighed. The sooner this journey was over the better, I thought. But at least we wouldn’t be lumbered with a carriage and a cart carrying Ealhswith’s belonging.
My men and the boys we’d rescued slept in the warriors’ hall that night whilst my brother and I shared one room and my wife and Guthild another in the hall. Conversation during the meal was somewhat stilted at first but relations thawed somewhat later, probably helped by the mead and ale we’d consumed. I tried to stop Alric boasting about the Danes we’d killed a few days previously but the ealdorman seemed impressed and Ulfrid listened agog.
Our return was uneventful, although we took a different way back. Lady Ealhswith had agreed to ride, but drew the line at sleeping in a tent. We therefore rode from monastery to monastery in a more circuitous route. When we got to the one dedicated to Saint Alban at Verulamacæstir we heard what had happened in East Anglia.
The two armies had met outside Hӕgelisdun but King Edmund’s nobles had urged him to negotiate with Ívarr and Ubba. They had agreed to do so but, when Edmund and a few of his nobles had arrived to meet the two heathen leaders, the Danes had killed the nobles and had taken Edmund prisoner. The East Anglian fyrd had subsequently dispersed and the Danes had taken possession of East Anglia in a relatively bloodless campaign.
It was grave news. Now only Wessex and Mercia stood firm against the Danes and their allies.
Chapter Twelve
869 - 870
Immediately after I returned to Silcestre I paid Dudda’s wife and son the wergeld I owed them and then evicted them from their farmstead, giving it to Alric, not as my tenant but freehold. He still owed military service as and when required but he didn’t have to pay me any rent. He took three of the boys we had rescued from thraldom to help him work the farm promising to train them as scouts and warriors over the next couple of years. Little did we know at the time but we didn’t have years before they would be needed to fight for Wessex.
Gunhild and he had grown ever closer over the months we had been away. I thought that they stood no chance of ever becoming betrothed but my brother and Ulfrid had become quite good friends during the journey home and the boy persuaded Ealhswith to speak to Ælfred about them.
Of course, Ealhswith had other, more important things to worry about, such as her forthcoming marriage, and I thought that she would forget her promise. Whilst she also liked Alric, she made it clear on numerous occasions that she didn’t care much for me. I don’t think she ever forgave me for making her ride all that way instead of travelling in a carriage with her two maids.
I was therefore surprised when Leofflæd and I were invited to her wedding. Alric was also invited, a singular honour for a ceorl, even if he did own his own farmstead now.
The wedding was very much like every other one, except for the grandeur and the crowded church. Every ealdorman who was able to attend was there with their wives and older children. Guthild came with her sister and her husband, who was a wealthy thegn in Dorset, but her father was absent. I was one of a small group of thegns who were invited and I was grateful to Ælfred for the honour.
My wife was almost unrecognisable from the girl who had ridden with my warriors and Ealhswith told her later than she had hardly recognised her. I was consumed with pride but slightly worried when Alric made a beeline for Guthild when we walked from the church back to the king’s hall.
As befitted our status, Alric, Leofflæd and I were sat with a few other thegns and their wives at the end of one of the long tables, well away from the king, the groom and his bride. I was therefore surprised when Ælfred beckoned me.
I made my way around the hall until I was behind his chair. He made a gesture for me to lower my head so that he could whisper in my ear.
‘I haven’t had a chance to thank you for escorting my bride safely to Wintanceaster. I hear it was a profitable expedition for you, but nevertheless I wish to reward you. There is a vill within my gift at Basingestoches. It is much larger than Silcestre and it will make you a wealthier man.’
‘Lord, I am most appreciative and don’t wish to offend you, but would it be possible to give the vill to my elder brother Alric?’
He looked at me in surprise, then smiled.
‘Ah, would that be because then Alric could legitimately ask for the hand of Guthild?’
‘Partly, lord, but also because he is my senior and yet I am a thegn whilst he remains a ceorl.’
‘Your sentiment do
es you credit, Jørren, but the king has already agreed to the match between Alric and Guthild. She will inherit five vills when her father dies, as will her sister, and that will make Alric much wealthier than you. So you can keep Basingestoches with a clear conscience.’
‘Thank you, lord.’ I paused then asked ‘what does Guthild’s brother-in-law make of the match?’
‘Oh, as he’ll be the next Ealdorman of Hamtunscīr he’ll be happy enough.’
I returned to my place feeling bemused and euphoric at the same time.
Ϯϯϯ
Leofflæd and I visited Basingestoches for the first time in October that year. I took the four boys who I was training as scouts together with Erik, Ulf, Cei and Swiðhun. Guthild’s father had died in September and Alric was now betrothed to his daughter. They were away visiting the five vills that she had inherited and my brother had given his farmstead to Leofflæd’s brother, Ecgberht. Life seemed to have treated us very well. It couldn’t last, and it didn’t.
Basingestoches was about three times the size of Silcestre and consisted of twenty one hides, including three outlying farmsteads. Much as we loved Silcestre, it was obvious that we would need to move our home here. The reeve was of a very different calibre to Dudda, but I didn’t take to the priest. He was an austere man who looked down his nose at us and chided Leofflæd for dressing and riding like a man. Needless to say she gave as good as she got, but I decided that I would have to ride to Wintanceaster and see Bishop Asser about replacing him as soon as possible.
I left a few of my warband at Silcestre under Wealhmӕr’s command to guard the vill, collect taxes and continue with the fyrd’s training. Cei, Erik, Ulf, Jerrick, Øwli, Cináed and Uurad would accompany us to Basingestoches, together with the four boys we had rescued. Redwald and Ecgberht would also be staying at Silchester, of course.
It was a sad moment when our warband split up just after Christmas but, should the need arise, they would reunite and fight together in the future.