Kingmaker (The Anarchy Book 12)

by Griff Hosker

  At the bottom of the slope I saw a clan chief berating the galloglasses. Prince Henry nudged his horse forward and leaned down to speak with the Danish leader. He wore black armour and his shield bore a white skull upon it. On his helmet he wore a half skull. I could not see the value in it but it was obviously intended to intimidate. The Dane held his axe and used it to point to the ridge behind us. He then pointed at the Scots.

  I turned to Edgar. "He means to attack along the whole front."

  "Then the man is a fool."

  "Perhaps not; Erre and his men will be on the flat, close by the road. Weight of numbers might turn that flank."

  "Erre will stand. I would bet my life on it."

  I was not convinced. I turned slightly. I could see Dick some twenty paces higher up the slope, his war bow held ready to loose. "Watch out for a flank attack on Erre and his men."

  "Aye, lord, I had seen that already."

  I saw the Scottish prince nod and turn to shout to his men. He spoke for some time and then there was an enormous cheer. It came not from the Danes but the Scottish foot. I saw the clan chief chivvy the galloglasses to stand behind the Danes. It was obviously intended to be a punishment. Then a horn sounded three times and the Danes and the Scottish warriors began to ascend the slope. The Danes approached our right and holding their shields above their heads, walked purposefully towards us. They would not run and trip themselves. A mormaer walked in front of the six hundred or so Scottish warriors; he was there to hold them in check. They were the equivalent of our fyrd. They had little skill but they had numbers. This could be bloody.

  The line of bodies marked the range of my archers. They also impeded the advancing Scots and Danes. Dick and his men could launch their arrows a greater distance but they wanted no wasted arrows. We had the caltrops just twenty paces before the slingers. They would slow them up. I heard Dick's voice as he shouted, "Do not bother with the Danes yet. Thin out the others. Slingers throw your stones flat. Hit the Danes! I will give a war bow to the first boy who fells a Dane!" I heard the murmurs from before us. That was incentive enough. The Danes could protect themselves from the arrows but stones thrown on a flat trajectory could strike home. The sound of their stones hitting metal and wood sounded like hail on my castle roof. There was a perceptible slowing of the Danish line as they tried to lower their shields.

  On the left my archers had an easier task and I saw Scots tumble to the ground as they fell to the arrows. Had we had Sir Phillip's archers then I am certain we would have broken the attack there and then. However some Scots reached the line of caltrops. I heard the squeals as some of those who had come to the battle barefoot and out run the arrows and their fellows found the deadly pointed spikes.

  I glanced at the Danes. Amazingly two had fallen to the slingers’ stones One looked merely dazed but the second was unmoving. The closer they came the greater the effect. More men were struck and they were forced to put the shields to the fore. That meant two things: they could not swing their axes nor could they see the caltrops. As soon as the first Dane stepped on one I knew it was time to withdraw the boys.

  "Slingers! Join the archers! Open ranks!"

  We turned aside and the boys squirmed between us. We swung back and prepared our shields and spears. The spikes did their job. They broke up the Danish line as they neared the stakes we had embedded before us. The Danes slung their shields and swung the axes. The difference was that instead of a solid line as Edgar had feared, it was individuals who approached us. Fate determined that I would face the first Dane. It was not the chief; he was in the third rank. It was a younger warrior who had had a red shield with a yellow cross. He had filed his teeth so that when he grinned at me I saw a black and white mess and when he roared his challenge spittle flew from it.

  I did not understand Danish but I understood his meaning. The two handed axe head whirled before me. I took my spear and jabbed it forward. He was young and strong. His swings were swift and he caught the head of my spear as it headed towards his face. He was fast but the spear head ripped across the back of his right hand. I pulled it back and watched the blood trickle down his hand. He took a step forward and I flicked my shield up as the axe came dangerously close to my cheek. A sliver of wood flew off the edge. I pulled back my hand and darted the spear forward for the shield had checked the swing of the axe and his timing was off. This time the spear head struck his right shoulder and I leaned into the blow. Fighting on a slope is hard and his swing had unbalanced him. He slipped backwards to the ground. Even as I raised my spear I rammed the edge of my shield into his chest. He gasped for breath and then I rammed my spear through the gaping maw of his mouth.

  I stepped back and looked down the line. The Danes had engaged with us. They were now as solid as they were going to be. The stakes stopped them from standing shoulder to shoulder but soon their weight of numbers would force us back from their protection. Edgar's spear had shattered but the two dead Danes before him were testament to his skill. He now had his sword in his hand. My dead Dane formed a barrier and as I watched the second rank arrive I jabbed my spear at the Dane whose axe hacked into the side of Edgar's shield. My spear entered his right eye and I twisted it as it entered his skull. His legs gave way and he slipped to the ground.

  "Thank you, Warlord!"

  I had no time for any words as I caught the blur of steel as an older Dane swung his axe at me. I did the only thing I could do, I dropped to one knee. The axe had been aimed at head height. I punched the haft of my spear across his knees, hard. My mail mitten connected with his kneecap. Old men have weak knees and I heard a grunt as he lurched to one side. I rose swiftly and used my shield to hit him hard. His weakened knee, the slope and my blow made him reel. A stone flew from over my shoulder and caught him squarely between the eyes. I watched life leave them.

  To my left I saw the larger part of the Scottish force begin a retreat. The arrows had done their work and the field was littered with their dead. Holding shields above their head they made their way down the hill. The Danes before us had no such thoughts and I heard their skull topped leader shout something which elicited a cheer from his men. They came at us with renewed vigour.

  I had barely stepped back into line when another Dane challenged me. Even as he swung his axe I saw that the Danes behind were busy making kindling of our stakes. As I deflected the axe I heard a grunt from next to me and was spattered with Edgar's blood. He had been hit. The blood spurred me on and I feinted with my spear. The Dane made the mistake of hesitating and I hit his hands, hard with my shield. Bare knuckled it had the effect of numbing them. I pulled back my spear and thrust it forward. There was a gap and my spear found it. It struck between two plates but the hide armour was tough. Alf made good spear heads and it made a hole and when the Dane winced I knew that I had found flesh. He brought his axe down and it severed my spear in two. As I drew my sword I punched him in the face with my shield. His head jerked back and my sword was in my hand.

  I could fight with a spear but I preferred a sword. As my weapon whirled I was aware that Dick had switched his arrows to the Danes. The slingers found gaps between us and the arrows rained down. They did not fell many but it would be enough to buy us time. We needed to switch ranks so that those in the second rank bore the brunt of the attack and gave us respite but we were all too closely engaged.

  The Dane who faced me grinned and spoke to me in Saxon, "I have you now, horse shagger!" His axe began to swing. It was almost mesmerizing. I forced myself to look behind the axe head at his eyes. I held my sword at shoulder height. The hide mail was effective. I needed to find flesh and find it quickly. His gaze betrayed him. I saw them flick to my right side and knew that he intended to strike there. I twisted my left hand and, as his axe came towards my right shoulder I held my shield across my body and punched it at his hand while stabbing over it with my sword. My shield stopped his axe haft and my sword slid into his screaming mouth. The Dane behind stopped in his tracks as the blade came out of th
e back of his head. Putting my foot against his middle I kicked the dead Dane from my sword and he fell back into his surprised clan mate. His life was ended by another stone and I had the chance to breathe.

  Even as I looked to my right I saw the axe slice into Edgar's shoulder. I whipped my sword sideways and caught the victorious Dane on the side of the head. It slowed the blow. One of Sir Wulfric's men on the other side of Edgar despatched him.

  I turned and said to John of Norton, "Take Edgar's place in the front rank." He grabbed Edgar by the coif and pulled him roughly from the line. I knew that those in the third rank would tend to him. It had looked a fearful blow.

  Wilfred said, on the other side of me, "Dick has sent the bulk of them packing but they are reinforcing the Danes with the galloglasses."

  "Aye." This was one of those moments in a battle when both sides take breath. The Danes had been halted. The arrows and the stones continued to rain upon them but they had their shields before and above them for protection. They had chopped down half of our stakes and I knew that their next attack would be better coordinated. They were waiting for their galloglasses. Our slightly elevated position meant that I could see Prince Henry. He was pointing to the ridge and Sir Gilles. He obviously thought it was me and I knew that my ruse had worked. He would not commit his knights until he had eliminated the threat of me and my knights. Worryingly I saw him wave those who had retreated to head towards the road and Erre. That was our weak flank now. We needed to change things.

  "Wulfric! Flank the Danes! Erre is in danger!"

  "Aye lord! Lock shields and form on me!"

  "Dick, the galloglasses!"

  "Archers change targets!"

  The field was now slick not only with mud and water but also blood and entrails. The Danes changed their tactics. The second and third rank held their shields above their first and they headed towards us. Alf's wisdom in sending the boys with us made the difference. They now had their eye in. They were more accurate. They were not throwing river pebbles but well made lead shot from Alf. A blow on a helmet would stun while one on flesh could kill. The cacophony of noise was terrifying as the Danes advanced. They were chanting as they came. I knew they did this to help the rhythm; it worked. They came slowly to avoid falls and that allowed the slingers to thin their ranks some more. John of Norton had a spear and I could see, by glancing along the line, the ones who had stepped from the second rank for they held spears. We would be toasting our dead that night; if we survived.

  My new helmet afforded me a much better view of the battlefield but I had less protection. I was now reliant on my ventail and coif more than with my masked helmet. I saw that the Danish chief was heading towards the line to my right. Wulfric's movement was forcing the Danes slightly down the slope. I said, without turning my head, "Wilfred, let us try to join Wulfric and turn their flank!"

  "Aye lord!" I heard him as he shouted, "You heard the Warlord! When we move, I want those to the left of me to take two steps forward!"

  As one they shouted, "Aye!"

  The Danes suddenly lurched forward, "Now Wilfred and Wulfric!"

  I stepped towards the two Danes who were advancing through the stakes. I lunged at one while I ducked beneath my shield. I heard a crack and a grunt as a stone hit one and my sword came up beneath the hide mail to tear into the groin of the other. Even as I withdrew my sword I punched at the dazed Dane. He reeled and I pushed him to the ground. Kneeling on his chest I forced my sword into his throat. Wilfred and Wulfric had managed to attack the right flank of the Danes. Those who held their shields still could not swing their axes one handed and the spears and swords of my men found undefended flesh. There was a palpable lurch as the Danes reeled from this new attack. My men were now inside the Danish shield wall. Its integrity shattered, they fought as individuals.

  I was lucky to have Wilfred on my left and John of Norton on my right. They protected my sides and allowed me to advance obliquely into their line. The two Danes I had killed meant that I was striking at the right sides of the Danes. Their axes were effective as they swung before them but could easily be deflected from the side. I punched the shoulder of the first Dane I met and then brought my sword overhand as he stumbled to his left. His hide armour could give some protection but I heard the crack as his collar bone broke. His axe dropped and John of Norton speared him.

  We were advancing through them quickly now but even as we killed them I saw the Danish chief take the head of Hrolf the Swede, one of Wulfric's men. We could not afford to lose men of such skill. I redoubled my efforts. I was tiring but the thought of losing more men spurred me on. I used what Wulfstan had called the 'fastest hands in Christendom'. I swung my sword as rhythmically as the Danes swung their axes but it was a shorter and faster swing. It had a longer edge and I used it. The Danes did not wear a coif and there was a gap between the bottom of their helmet and the top of their armour. I was confident that Wilfred and John of Norton would guard my sides. With my shield held tightly into my chest I slew Danes.

  I saw the Danish skull banner fall as stones and arrows fell around the Danish chief. He turned and saw me advancing. He roared a challenge and headed for me. He was not coming for the Warlord of the North, he was coming for the knight who led the wedge against his flank. This would be a crucial moment in the battle. He shouted at me and spat. Spittle spattered on my shield and coif. His axe head was notched and bloody but it could still hurt me. It was a little longer than the ones I had fought hitherto. That had both dangers and advantages. He could keep me further away but there would be a longer gap between swings. Timing would be everything.

  "You two watch my flanks but stay clear of that axe."

  "Be careful. Lord! He has killed four of our men already!"

  "Thank you, John!"

  The chief was a little older than I was but he had skills and experience. He feinted with his shoulder. Had I been watching his body I might have fallen foul of him but I watched his eyes. They never left my face. My ventail covered my mouth and he could not see my expression but I saw his lips pull back into a grin as he glanced to my left. He would strike at my shield. Keeping my eyes fixed I balanced on the balls of my feet. What I was about to do was risky and I would have chastised one of my squires had he tried it but if it came off I would have victory.

  "Wilfred move left!"

  Even as the axe came towards me I swung around in a seemingly suicidal move. Wilfred stepped to his left leaving me the space in which to spin. His axe hit fresh air and I continued my swing. I brought my sword across the mail on his back. The spin added momentum and it was a mighty blow. My blade bit through the mail and through his padded gambeson. He stepped away even as I struck but I felt the sword strike flesh and, as I withdrew it, I saw blood.

  He half turned to face me. We were now standing on the side of the hill. I had stopped the upward movement of the Danes. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Wulfric and his men as they began to surround the Danes. Arrows showered the enemy. If we could force them down towards the road we had a chance.

  Suddenly I heard a horn. It was Scottish. I knew not what it meant but I could do nothing. If I was distracted then it could spell my doom. I had to defeat the Dane. If he fell then the heart might go from these mercenaries.

  "Now Stockton! One last push! Are you with me?"

  The roar from behind put steel into my spine and I did not wait for the Danish chief to swing again. I brought my sword overhand and he held his axe up in two hands to block it. I punched with my shield. As a second Dane tried to swing at my left side Wilfred chopped across his throat. The chief and I were spattered with his blood. Surprisingly the chief's attention was distracted and I saw his eyes flicker to the dead warrior. I lunged and my sword found the gap under his right arm. I saw my sword's tip emerge from his shoulder and he fell from my sword. There was a collective wail and my men took advantage as Danes looked at their fallen leader. They chopped and hacked at disheartened Danes.

  I felt the Danish chief'
s hand as it tugged at my foot. He said, in Saxon, "Give me my son's hand. I would go to Valhalla with him!"

  Now I understood. I knelt down and took the dead Dane's hand and placed it in the chief's. He smiled, "You are a tricky one and I think you are the one they call the Warlord." I nodded. "I will see you in the Otherworld!" His eyes glazed over. I took in the cross around his next which seemed to contradict his words. Many Danes, it seemed, apparently embraced Christianity but hung on to their beliefs.

  "Lord! The Scottish attack!"

  I turned and saw where Wilfred pointed. Prince Henry had launched an attack up the hill, not at us, but my knights. He thought that it was I who was on the hill.

  "Dick! The horses!"

  "Archers, aim left!"

  Even as I watched I saw the Scottish knights begin to falter as some of their horses were struck. They had begun the attack thinking that the Danes were about to succeed. Now the Danes were streaming down the hill. Prince Henry made a classic blunder. He could have retreated or continued with the attack. Instead he and some of his knights hesitated. The ones who did not rode into Sir Harold and my knights and squires. When the Scottish standard fell Prince Henry turned to lead a retreat back down the hill.

  I could do nothing to aid my knights for we still had enemies before us. We hacked and slashed our way down the hill. Knots of Danes and Scots stood to fight us. Honour or friendship made them face inevitable death together. They fell. By the time we reached the place where the Scots had begun it was almost dark and we held the field. The Scots had withdrawn to the top of the ridge close to Bishop Middleham. There were less than five hundred left there but they still outnumbered us.

  As I stood, gasping for air, I heard the sound of hooves as Sir Harold and Sir Gilles of Norton rode up to me. "My lord, we have a great victory! We hold the field!"