The Great Heathen Army

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The Great Heathen Army Page 23

by H A CULLEY


  ‘Why did you run away before Wiltun; it isn’t something I would have ever expected of someone who I had trusted enough to make an ealdorman.’

  ‘Cyning, I didn’t desert you out of choice!’ I replied, perhaps a little too forcefully.

  ‘Have a care, Jørren,’ the king shot back. ‘Remember who you are addressing.’

  ‘I apologise Cyning, but it is a false accusation put about by those who would harm me in your eyes. The truth is I was abducted and would have been killed had my captors not stumbled upon one of my vills.’

  ‘Which vill?’

  ‘Silcestre, lord.’

  Ælfred appeared to be sceptical and so I pointed Wealhmær out to him. He was sitting with other household warriors near the door.

  ‘He was there, cyning, and can verify what I say. He also witnessed the hanging of my abductors.’

  ‘I believe you,’ he said, albeit a trifle hesitantly.

  I saw him glance at Eadda who was sitting with several ealdormen on one of the tables which abutted the high table at right angles. It came as no surprise to learn who had dripped poison into the king’s ear about me. I pulled back the cuff of my undershirt to show my chafed wrist, which had been rubbed raw by the rope.

  ‘I believe you Jørren,’ the king said again, this time with more sincerity. ‘I’m sorry I ever doubted your loyalty and your bravery. One thing puzzles me though. Why would anyone want to abduct you?’

  I hesitated. I’d rather no one in Wessex knew what had happened at Eforwic. However, if the king was to trust me, I had to trust him.

  ‘I killed a boy in Northumbria. He was under my command at the time but he’d murdered one of my warband, a good friend, and tried to rape the girl who is now my wife. I killed him to stop the rape.’

  ‘Did you pay wergeld to the boy’s family?’

  ‘No, cyning. I couldn’t afford to at the time and, in any case, the boy’s father said he wanted my head, not my silver.’

  ‘You need to settle this before the blood feud gets out of hand.’

  ‘I know, lord. I fully intend to. May I have your permission to go north and settle matters?’

  ‘What? No, of course not. I need you here. I meant that you should send the boy’s father the wergeld he’s owed.’

  Ϯϯϯ

  My mind was so full of my conversation with Ælfred and concern about Eadda and Cynemær that I had forgotten about Æscwin. As we all walked back to the church for the start of the witenaġemot someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to find myself looking at my brother.

  ‘I thought you were dead, and that runaway slave with you,’ he began.

  ‘I’m happy to see you too, Æscwin. I left to rescue Alric from the Danes, which I did. Perhaps you were about to congratulate me on my success?’

  ‘You always were a snide boy,’ he retorted.

  ‘Yes, well. Now I’m a snide ealdorman. We can have this conversation at a more suitable time.’

  I left him staring after me open mouthed. I regretted what I’d said almost immediately. I had hoped for a reconciliation between us but I feared that there was little chance of that now.

  Benches had been arranged in the front of the nave for the ealdormen and the senior churchmen. The thegns and others invited to attend had to stand behind us. Three chairs had been placed in the chancel; the centre one for Ælfred, one for the archbishop and the last for the Abbot of Certesi who, as host, would be chairing the meeting. However, he didn’t get far beyond his opening prayers and a few words of welcome before Ælfred took charge.

  ‘You all know that Halfdan and Ubba have agreed to withdraw from Wessex for a period of three years. However, I have recently learned that a new Danish army under a jarl called Guthrum had landed at Beamfleote in Ēast Seaxna Rīce.’

  It was not a place I had heard of before, but I later learned that it was virtually an island surrounded by streams that flowed into the Temes and the surrounding marshland. As a base it was virtually impregnable, the only approach being along secret paths through the wetlands or from the Temes estuary by ship.

  ‘Reports about this new summer army vary from fifty to one hundred and fifty longships but, whatever the true number, the heathens have replaced the losses they suffered this year and they can probably now muster around four thousand warriors in total.’

  There was an audible intake of breath at the thought of facing so many experienced Viking fighters. Wessex could probably field twice that number but most were members of the fyrd and, in any case, scattered throughout the south of England. Even if the king managed to assemble most of them together in one place, the Danes could attack elsewhere with impunity using their ships.

  ‘We need to turn Wessex into a fortress,’ Ælfred went on. ‘East Anglia seems to be firmly under their control but Northumbria has risen in revolt against the puppet king placed over them and Mercia has only been subdued in parts. The heathens are therefore going to be busy elsewhere for the foreseeable future and we need to take advantage of that time to prepare ourselves for the next invasion.’

  ‘How do we do that, cyning?’ Odda, Ealdorman of Dyfneintscir asked. ‘You have just said that the Danes can strike anywhere along the coast or up the major rivers in strength whilst we can only move on land.’

  ‘By fortifying settlements for use as well defended bases garrisoned by the fryd who are better trained and better equipped than hitherto. If we improve the existing Roman road network and build new cobbled roads where necessary, we link these bases or burhs together so that reinforcements can move speedily to where they are needed. By this means, we make Wessex a hard place for the Vikings to raid. The one thing we do know about them is that they hate to lose men. Kill enough of them and they will leave Wessex alone and concentrate on Mercia and Northumbria.’

  ‘That’s all very well, but who will pay for these burhs, roads and for the time ceorls spend training instead of farming their land Ælfred?’ Wulfhere, Ealdorman of Wiltunscir, asked with a sneer.

  ‘I will and you will, Wulfhere,’ snapped the king. ‘I’d rather pay to defend my kingdom than give the money to the Danes to leave us alone for a while. I’m sure that you would rather contribute what you can afford rather than have your lands laid waste, your settlements pillaged and burned and your womenfolk raped. One more thing, Ealdorman Wulfhere, I am your king and you will address me as such.’

  ‘What? Oh yes. Apologies cyning.’ Wulfhere muttered insincerely, stressing the last word.

  Ælfred gave him a long hard stare before looking at the rest of us. He allowed his eyes to dwell on every corner of the nave before continuing. The muted conservations and mutterings as men digested what he’d said died away and we waited for his next pronouncement in absolute silence.

  ‘I cannot claim that this strategy for defending our kingdom was mine alone. Credit for developing my initial idea came from the Ealdorman of Berrocscir and I am most grateful to Lord Jørren. Consequently he will assist me in coordinating the planning for the burhs and the new road system and thereafter tour the kingdom to assist you with its implementation, as well as reporting to me on progress.’

  I groaned inwardly. I was already unpopular as an upstart and an interloper, now my new role as the king’s enforcer would make me positively detested. I sensed Eadda’s eyes boring into my back. No doubt he saw this as preferment for me at his expense. Normally he could have expected to have been put in charge of these defensive works as the hereræswa. If he wasn’t already my sworn enemy, he certainly would be from now on.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Summer 873

  For the next two years Wessex was left more or less at peace whilst the two Danish armies, one led by Halfdan and Ubba and the other by Guthrum, rampaged through Northumbria and Mercia. The year after they left Wessex the two armies put down the revolt in the north and over-wintered in Lindesege, the north-eastern corner of Mercia.

  According to the reports I heard, this was a new settlement, not one which they ha
d taken over. They called it Torksey and it wasn’t just a camp for warriors. It was located on the River Trisantona to where their ships could bring their families as well as merchants and tradesmen. They came from Danmǫrk mainly, but also from Norweġ, Sweoland and Irlond. It was a strong indication that the Scandinavians were here to stay.

  In March 873 the Viking horde left Torksey but the latter continued to operate as a trading post and a manufacturing centre for armour and weapons. For the rest of that spring and summer the two armies, called respectively the Great Heathen Army and the Great Summer Army, fought a number of engagements against the Mercians. They eventually conquered the north-east of Mercia. This became a Danish kingdom known as the Five Burghs which stretched from Torksay in the north-east to Ligeraceaster in the south-west.

  The final battle of that year took place outside a place called Hreopandune, a settlement which had grown up around the important monastery dedicated to Saint Wystan. King Burgred had been heavily defeated and had withdrawn to the western half of Mercia. The heathen army had then spent the winter at Hreopandune.

  But that lay in the future. In August of that year the building of palisades around those settlements in Wessex chosen to become burghs was well advanced, as was the construction or repair of roads linking them. Of course, I faced opposition and many a time I had to threaten the local ealdormen or thegn with the king’s displeasure to get them to do what was necessary.

  I had asked Eadda to take over the training of the fyrd to garrison the burhs and, although progress was slower than I would have liked, he attacked the task with gusto and it kept him out of my hair.

  Ælfred expressed himself pleased with what had been accomplished and I took the opportunity to ask his permission for a month’s absence. Work on the defences would slow in any case as those working on the burhs and the roads would be needed to get in the harvest ready for the winter. He reluctantly agreed but insisted that I returned by the middle of September at the latest.

  I hadn’t forgotten about Cynemær over the past year and I had sent Erik, Acwel and Lyndon north into western Mercia and on into Northumbria to find out where the thegn lived and who the male members of his family were. They had travelled disguised as uncle and nephews en route to Lindisfarne as pilgrims wanting to pray at the tombs of Saint Aidan and Saint Cuthbert. Avoiding Eforwic and the rest of Deira, where most of the fighting was taking place, they reached the monastery on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne without mishap.

  It was when they started to ask about a supposed relative of theirs called Cynemær that they ran into trouble. It seems that Cynemær was not popular and so the three were seized and taken to the nearby fortress at Bebbanburg. This was the seat of Ricsige, who had succeeded his father, Ealdorman Edmund of Bernicia, after the disastrous battle of Eforwic seven years previously. Erik vaguely remembered seeing Ricsige with his father before the battle, but he doubted if he would recognise him now. Ricsige had been barely sixteen at the time. He was told that Ricsige now called himself Earl of Bernicia to distinguish him from the other ealdormen in his domain.

  When they arrived at Bebbanburg Erik had been impressed with the stronghold on top of a windswept rocky outcrop at the edge of the North Sea. It looked impregnable. It stood on top of vertical cliffs and was surrounded by a high palisade. Two double sets of gates defended the steep approaches from the north and the south.

  They were taken into the centre of the fortress and dismounted outside a large hall. All three were ushered inside where the Earl of Bernicia sat in conference with three other men. All three were in their thirties or forties but Erik said that Earl Risige looked to be no older than me.

  ‘He was impatient at being interrupted,’ Erik continued. ‘It appears that the Witenaġemot of Deira had succeeded in ousting the puppet king imposed on them by Halfdan and had elected Ricsige as their king.’

  I was taken aback. If he accepted he would become king not only of Deira but of all Northumbria. No wonder the Danes had been all too eager to leave Wessex. There was a very real possibility that they might be driven out of Northumbria. In the circumstances I expected them to march north in the spring, whether or not Ricsige accepted the crown.

  ‘When the earl asked me what I was doing in Bernicia I decided that the time for subterfuge was past,’ Erik continued. ‘I admitted that I sought Thegn Cynemær whose men had abducted the Ealdorman of Berrocscir in Wessex. I explained that they were taking you back to Northumbria so that Cynemær could kill you personally. I confessed that my task was to locate this thegn and report back. I started to recite the background to the blood feud but Ricsige held up his hand.’

  ‘I’ve heard enough,’ he snapped. ‘Cynemær has betrayed me and has joined the Danes in Eforwic with his men. I want his head just as much as this Ealdorman of Berrocscir, who I’ve never heard of.’

  ‘I told him that he would know of you, lord,’ Erik said with a smile. ‘I told him that you were the leader of the group who had burned the Danish fleet before the Battle of Eforwic. He took more of an interest then and bade me tell you that he would deal with Cynemӕr in due course.’

  ‘He released us the next day and gave us an escort as far as the border of Northumbria with Mercia in the west. We then made our way back here.’

  I mulled over what Erik had discovered but I was not about to let others deal with my enemies. Perhaps I was being pig-headed but I had to be the one who killed Cynemӕr and his brood. Of course, Leofflæd tried to dissuade me, but my mind was made up. Now she changed tack and demanded that she be allowed to accompany me on ‘my fool’s errand,’ as she termed it. I tried to talk her out of it, but to no avail.

  Ϯϯϯ

  The knarr I’d hired glided the last few yards into the berth alongside the quay at Eforwic an hour before dusk. It had been a long, but thankfully uneventful, passage from Sandwic on the south coast of Cent, from where we had boarded, to the mouth of the Humbre and thence up the River Uisge. It was too late in the year for there to be many longships crossing the North Sea to join the heathen army at Lundewic and the only ships we saw were trading knarrs like ours. However our cargo was limited to a few dozen bundles of sheepskins and cow hides. That left room for a dozen of my warriors in addition to the normal ship’s crew.

  In addition to my wife, who was attired once more in tunic, trousers and byrnie, I had brought Erik, Cei, Ecgberht, Øwli, Uurad, Wealhmӕr, Wolnoth, Swiðhun, Redwald, Acwel and Lyndon along. It was just like old times, except that most of us were now in our twenties.

  As soon as we had docked a tall middle-aged man wearing an expensively embroidered woollen tunic and accompanied by two bored looking youths wearing helmets and carrying spears came striding along the jetty.

  ‘Who are you and what’s your cargo?’ he barked at the knarr’s captain.

  ‘Aldhelm out of Sandwic and we’re carrying sheepskins and tanned leather hides for sale here. What business is it of yours?’

  ‘I’m King Ricsige’s port reeve,’ the man said, evidently affronted at being challenged.

  He seemed to notice us for the first time.

  ‘Why have you got so many armed warriors on board?’

  ‘Dangerous times, my friend,’ I replied before the captain could do so. ‘So Eforwic is back in Northumbrian hands? What happened to the Danes that Halfdan left here as a garrison?’

  ‘We rose up and slaughtered them as soon as Ricsige and his Bernicians appeared before our walls,’ he said proudly.

  Then he peered suspiciously at me.

  ‘Why are you so interested in the fate of a couple of hundred heathen Danes?’

  ‘I just wanted to make sure that it was safe for me and my men to walk the streets of Eforwic,’ I replied with what I hoped was a disarming smile. ‘Tell me, what happened to turncoats like Cynemær who had sided with the heathens?’

  The port reeve sniffed in distain.

  ‘He fled south with his sons as soon as King Ricsige appeared two days ago; more’s the pity. Why? What�
��s your interest in him?’

  ‘He and I have unfinished business,’ I replied curtly.

  The man appeared to be one of Ricsige’s supporters but I had no doubt that there were several agents in the pay of the Danes still left in Eforwic and I wasn’t taking any chances.

  ‘Well, if you came here hoping to meet him you’ve had a wasted journey haven’t you?’ he said nastily. ‘Now, let’s have a look at these skins so I can levy the appropriate tax before you land them,’ he said, turning back to the captain.

  We took rooms in a tavern for the night as we would need to find and buy enough horses for our journey in pursuit of Cynemær. Of course, the presence of so many armed men arriving in Eforwic hadn’t gone unnoticed and we were eating a meal in the taproom when a dozen armed men entered and demanded that I accompany them to the king’s hall. I took Erik with me as doubtless Ricsige would remember him. My men growled in disapproval as the king’s warriors disarmed us before carting us off like felons but I assured them that we were in no danger, and so it proved.

  Ricsige did indeed remember Erik and he was pleased to meet someone who could give him an accurate picture of what was happening in the south. When I told him that it seemed likely that the Danes would head north in the spring to re-conquer his kingdom he grew concerned, but thanked me for the warning. Erik and I were guests on the high table and ate considerably better fare than my wife and the men were enjoying in the tavern. Afterwards our weapons were returned to us and Ricsige wished us good hunting on the morrow.

  It took all morning to buy enough horses for us to journey south after Cynemær. I was eager to start before the trail got too cold, although I was fairly certain that he would be headed to Lundenwic and the main Danish army now that he was branded a traitor by his own people.

  We left Eforwic just after noon. We were each mounted on a decent riding horse and we had bought a few pack horses to carry the tents and camping equipment we would need. We wouldn’t be stopping at any more taverns or even at monasteries. I intended to ride at as fast a pace as I could without damaging our mounts, stopping to camp at sunset and leaving again at dawn. We were four days behind Cynemær and the others who had fled Eforwic and I estimated that, with no reason to rush like we were doing, it would take them about a week to reach Lundenwic. That gave us less than three days to catch him.

 

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