Outlaw

by Griff Hosker

  The venom in my voice made Edgar start back. “You are a fierce enemy.”

  “Aye remember that Edgar.”I had not meant the threat but the actions of Edwin and Morcar had shown me that men’s lust for power sometimes overrode their intentions. Branton arrived back first. “He gave me this balm sir. He said that it will clean out the wound.”

  The pot he opened contained a small amount of a fragrant smelling paste. I removed the pad and blood still oozed. Ignoring the blood I opened the wound and I smeared the lotion deep into the wound and prayed that Reuben had saved Ridley’s life. “And he gave me this powder. You mix a small amount with water and give it to him twice a day. It will ease the pan and make him sleep. He has given enough for four days.” I nodded and he went to the nearest house. He had to kick in the door but he quickly returned and mixed the powder with the water he had found. I held up Ridley’s head and forced open his mouth. Branton looked at me and I nodded. He poured it into the open mouth. It remained there. Branton pinched his nose and with an involuntary cough he consumed the medicine. Osbert arrived with the men at the same time as the warrior with the pot of fire.

  “Osbert make a litter. Edward make the fire red hot.” I took out my dagger and gave it to him. “I want this blade white hot.”

  Sweyn and Edgar had left us in the street which resembled a butcher’s yard. The only ones who remained were my men. Counting the ones left at the gate there were forty of us now. We had done well but brave men who could not be replaced had still died. “Here you are my lord.”

  Edward held out the knife which smoked. “Hold his arms.” I removed the pad and placed the flat of the blade on to the wound. There was a hissing sound and the smell of burning hairs and flesh but when I removed it there was no bleeding. “Put it back in the fire.” I took the pad from his thigh and smeared more of the paste on that wound. When Edward handed me the blade I repeated the cauterisation. He no longer bled but his life was now in the hands of the almighty. I put the last tiny portion of paste on the wounds on his face.

  “Osbert, Branton we need a roof and a kitchen. Find one.”

  Later, as we ate and drank, Branton told us of his meeting with Reuben. “He said the paste is an old remedy from his homeland but the powder comes from the Turks and was given to him by Aethelward. He was insistent that we only use it for a few days. He said no more.”

  I nodded. “If Ridley shows no sign of recovery in a few days then we will not need it any way.”

  We rested in Jorvik for a few days. The fighting had been brief but hard and we all needed time to recover. Tadgh had proved a godsend for he knew Jorvik even better than we. His guard had admitted not watching him all the day and that proved, even to Osbert, that if he had wanted to run he could have done so and he was accepted. Some of Edgar’s men also asked to join my company. I was too busy watching Ridley and delegated that to my sergeant. When he returned his face was a little dark. “Well, “I asked, “are they men of my company now?”

  “Aye sire, ten of them and good men too.” He looked troubled.

  “Come on man spit it out. Don’t dance around with me we have known each other too long.”

  “The reason they wanted to join us is that they see no honour in serving Edgar. He kept his men back from the walls and only entered once we had won. They have spent the last two years avoiding fighting and they felt ashamed that Lord Ridley had been so badly wounded while they did nothing.”

  I was not surprised and it confirmed my view of the boy. Our father had not spent time with him; he had been his mother’s boy and we all knew what that meant. It was a shame. I realised, at that moment, that he would never be king. Deep in my heart that was the instant that I knew the Normans had won. I spent the next year denying it to others but you cannot lie to yourself.

  Sweyn and his army left Jorvik suddenly. We knew not why or where he went. There was an assumption that he had returned to Denmark. The Aetheling enjoyed the power of running Jorvik which, in itself, sickened us. We were doubly grateful when Ridley awoke. We had fed him liquids whilst he slept and dressed his wounds but, on the fourth day after the battle, he opened his eyes.

  “Am I dead?”

  We were so pleased that he spoke but we could not control our laughter. “Very nearly old friend, very nearly but it must have been wyrd that decided you would live.”

  He nodded and tried to sit up. We helped him to an upright position. “I am starving and my head is ringing.”

  “Well we will feed you and then, as soon as you are able we will leave.”

  “Leave? Did we not capture the city?”

  “We did but none of us like the stench!”

  We spent another three days preparing to leave and what disturbed me the most was that Edgar never once came to see how Ridley was doing or to ask us our plans. It was almost as though we had done our part to capture the city for him and he no longer needed us. Sweyn had also deigned to bid us farewell. I resented both men for I felt used and that the lives of my men had been wasted. They had died for nothing. Ridley had almost died for a spoiled little boy’s Christmas present.

  As we left through the Petergate, still with its blackened burned gatehouse, I had no idea where we would be going. I just knew that I did not want to be in Jorvik and I wanted to be as far away as possible from my half brother. Osbert rode next to Ridley. He had watched him whilst I had slept and he had even more paternal feelings towards him than me. Branton rode next to me, his golden bracelet still on his arm.

  “Well my lord, do you have any idea where we are going?” I shot him a dark look and he shrugged. “As we did not get a boat I assume it is not Byzantium and as we did not take the Gillygate then Scotland is not our destination.”

  I laughed. “You have the mind of a chess player Branton. You analyse everything.”

  “True it comes of being an archer. You and my brother just hit your enemies as hard as you can. Archers have to calculate wind, movement, even the weather and we have to estimate distances. “

  I had not thought about it but it was a fact that his job was far harder than ours. “I am heading, since you ask, for Medelai. William will be heading north. When he fights Sweyn he will be at his weakest no matter if he wins or loses. That will be our chance to strike.”

  He looked back at the line of riders behind us. “With these fifty?”

  “I was not boasting when I told Sweyn that you were all worth two of any other warrior. When William has fought Edgar and Sweyn we will whittle his forces down and gather more volunteers. Who knows Hereward may prevail at Ely and increase our numbers? Malcolm may come from Scotland.” I did not really believe that either would happen but I had to keep the hope alive in my men’s hearts for without that hope they would just die.

  Branton shook his head, “The Scots are like the crows and ravens. They do not hunt like the kite or the eagle but they pick over the carcasses of those killed by true predators. He will only come when he thinks we are too weak to defend against him. He will want Northumbria but he will not risk his men to achieve it.” He looked at me sadly, “He would rather we did the dying and he did the taking.”

  Branton was a wise young man who had ideas and thoughts which reminded me of Aethelward and once again, Branton was proved right.

  Chapter 14

  Ridley was moving well and had regained much of his lost weight when the first refugees began to flood south. We had rested for two weeks awaiting the arrival of William but the March winds blew over a land devoid of armies. When the dam did burst it engulfed us all. Branton and Edward had been scouting the roads east of us, searching for signs of William and they returned with a gaggle of people from Persebrig. They were a pathetic group who had lost everything, their men had been slaughtered in an attempt to help their families to escape and the twenty or so who made it to Medelai with my archers were virtually all that remained of that once prosperous settlement.

  As the people were fed I asked Branton, “How did William evade our patrol
s?”

  “He didn’t my lord. This is the work of Sweyn and his Danes!”

  The anger which erupted on my face made even the dour Branton take a step back. I was furious. My men had helped the Dane and he had repaid us by ravaging the very people we had sought to protect. “Get your brother and prepare the men we march north.”

  He looked at me, open mouthed. “Against the Danish army?”

  “Against any invader.” I dismissed him with a wave. The Normans would have to wait; it was the ungrateful and deceitful Sweyn whom I would punish first.

  “Yes my lord?”

  “The Danes are raping the land north of us. I have asked your brother to prepare the men. We ride north.” Unlike his brother Osbert just nodded.

  “And Lord Ridley?”

  I smiled a wan smile, “I do not think he would let us leave without him. We will just have to watch over him in his first combat.”

  “Much as we did with you my lord.”

  “Aye, it seems that we are doomed to be a burden on you Osbert.”

  “No, my lord, not a burden. We are all honoured to serve with such a noble and honourable man.”

  The river was half a day’s ride north and we went armed for war. At the time I felt as though this would be the last ride of my company. I did not think that we could defeat Sweyn’s army but we could, at least, bloody his nose and make him remember Aelfraed and his Housecarls. In the event we never reached the river. Tadgh and another of the new men had been sent to Jorvik to bring back the men who had escorted Reuben south. They reached Medelai soon after we had left and, when we heard the thundering of their hooves, we all turned ready to face an ambush. When we saw that it was our six men we relaxed.

  “My lord, King William is in Jorvik with his army. The Aetheling has fled to his sister in Scotland.”

  Ridley and Osbert closed with me. All the sacrifices we had made to capture the city had been rendered a waste by my half brother’s cowardice. I already knew what Ridley wanted to do but I felt honour bound to ask them. “So, we have two enemies now. The question is who is the more dangerous?”

  “The Normans!” Ridley was predictable, understandably so. I smiled and turned to Osbert.

  “Well my lord, does this not suit us? William will have to fight the Danes and that means he will be weaker. That was your original plan was it not?”

  “Aye it was.” I could see that Ridley itched to have his revenge on the Normans. “Do not worry old friend. We will fight the Normans but we will choose the time. We will head north eastwards towards Marske. That way we will be afforded a view of the sea where, I am assuming the Danish ships will be waiting, and we may have an opportunity to strike at one or both of these enemies.” The small port of Marske was as close to the mouth of the estuary that you could get. The land northwards was marshy and treacherous. We would be travelling along the escarpment which overlooked the Tees and we would be able to see the Danes. “Branton. Take two men and head for Jorvik. Trail William and keep me informed of his movements. Edward, take two men and follow the Danes. We will camp in the hills above Marske.”

  As we crossed the land we saw the burnt out farmsteads which the Danes had left in their wake as they headed north, it was as though someone had scratched a line in the earth. I dreaded to think of the devastation he would have caused in the valley of the Tees which, so far, had been untouched by the Norman hand. We camped at Othenesberg which had been a settlement for hundreds of years. As far as I knew it had been abandoned since the Norse had been driven from Jorvik but it had the best viewpoint and was highly defensible. The ditches and the huts still remained, although the roofs had fallen in. We used some of the huts to shelter the horses while we roughly repaired six of them for our use. Branton and Edward would have to come along the trail to reach Marske and that meant we could be easily found.

  While Osbert organised and chivvied the men I took Ridley to the top of the cone shaped hill. We could see, to the north west, the pall of smoke from burning buildings but the east looked as though it was still untouched. As I peered towards the northern bank of the river I saw the Danish fleet, or at least part of it, lying at anchor. The Danes had obviously not left yet and the fact that they had anchored away from the southern bank showed that they were being cautious.

  Ridley had still not said a great deal following his wounding. He had wandered to the high peak above us for it afforded a good view in all directions. I took the bull by the horns and broached his apparent death wish. “Were you trying to die a warrior’s death in Jorvik?”

  He flashed me a look, partly of surprise at the sudden question and partly, because, I think, I had hit the mark. “I was killing our enemies. That is all.”

  “You can lie to others Ridley but there are two people to whom you cannot lie, me and yourself. What would Aethelward have said? Deserting your comrades to seek a pagan death?”

  “I was killing our enemies.”

  “And what were the rest of us doing eh?”

  He looked shamefaced and shook his head. “I feel guilty that I am alive and all those that we loved are dead. What is the point of it all eh Aelfraed? We can never win and innocent, precious people die while bastards like Perci live. There is no God!”

  I shrugged. “There may not be but the fact that I believe that the spirits of Nanna and Aethelward watch over me make me think that there may be. Look Ridley, those people who were killed by Perci meant a great deal to you. What about Osbert, Branton, Edward, me; do we mean nothing?”

  He suddenly looked shocked and I saw understanding fill his open and honest face. “Of coursed you do! You know Aelfraed you have been like a brother to me!”

  I touched his arm and said gently, “Then stay by my side next time. I feel safer with you to my right.” His eyes and face filled with emotion and he just nodded. “Good then let us descend for I see Branton has returned.”

  Osbert had pots bubbling away by the time we reached the camp. Branton hurried over, with Osbert. “William is heading north towards the bridge at Persebrig.”

  I nodded, “And the Danish fleet is on the northern shore.” I gazed westwards. What we needed was intelligence as to the size of William’s army and his intentions. I needed to observe him closely. It was a risk, but one worth taking. “Tonight we will visit William’s camp and see what we can discover.”

  Ridley and Osbert looked unhappy. “Is that wise my lord?”

  “You said yourself, Osbert, that we were outnumbered. We need every advantage we can get. Branton and I managed to infiltrate Ripon; a camp should be easier, especially at night. Are you game for it?”

  Branton grinned. “Aye, I am that!”

  “Good then find us out two good horses and we will ride.”

  I covered my mail with my hooded tunic; it made us less visible but yet afforded the protection of mail. Branton always smiled at our mail. He maintained that without it he was too fast for anyone to hit him. Certainly he had yet to suffer a wound whilst his brother and the other men at arms all bore the scars of combat, or perhaps he was just lucky.

  We aimed to strike the Roman road short of Persebrig and then head north. The dusk had made us shadows and, by the time we were close to our prey, it would be dark. We saw the fires of their camp long before we were close. There were men on both sides of the river which meant that they would not be fighting this night but tomorrow promised a bloody combat. We halted a mile or so from the Norman camp. At least we assumed that it was the Norman one as it was south of the river. We hobbled our horses and tied them to a tree in the woods and well hidden from the road. We descended through the woods to the edge of the camp. The firelight showed us that it was, indeed, the Norman camp. We edged our way to the east of the camp towards the river. There was a sandy little beach at Persebrig which meant you could walk, quite close to the bank remaining hidden from observation and this way we hoped to be able to spy both camps without being seen. The bridge which crossed the river was not a wooden affair as at Stamford
but a solid stone structure. It too would afford cover.

  As we walked I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was not quite right. Normally, the night before a battle, there would be the sound of swords being sharpened and quiet reflective conversations. Here it seemed almost like a feast with loud laughs and cheers. I could not quite work out what was going on. The Roman Bridge was a thousand years old and must have been a second one for we crossed the pillars of an older bridge. Fortunately it afforded us a good view of the bridge and both camps as well as making it hard to see us. We lay next to the worn Romans stones and watched. The Danish camp appeared to be just as jolly and full of festivities as the Norman one. Was this something new? Party before you fight?

  Branton nudged me and I leaned over. “There are no guards on the bridge.” He whispered.

  “What is going on? This makes no sense.”

  “Unless they are not here to fight but to talk.” Branton’s knowing look suddenly put everything into perspective. The two armies were not enemies, they were allies.

  I gestured for him to follow me and we made our way along the darkened river bank to the side of the bridge where some Normans were talking. Infuriatingly we could not understand a word. Suddenly Branton gripped my arm. I turned to look and he pointed at the bridge. There was Sweyn and his lieutenants. They did not look as though they feared the group of Normans who were less than thirty paces from us. I recognised most of the men with Sweyn for they had been at the conference before we took Jorvik. One of them, I could not remember his name had been an Englishman who had once been a prisoner of the Normans and he now stood next to Sweyn.

  Sweyn shook hands with a short stocky Norman and they both gave a cursory bow to the other. Then there was a silence. The man who spoke English said something to the stocky Norman and then turned to Sweyn. “King William says he is glad that there will be no hostilities between us for we both have the same roots in the north. “ He then translated Sweyn’s reply to the Norman. I heard nothing for I was stunned. It was King William who stood there. If Branton had brought his bow then William would be dead. Of course we would not survive either but…