Viking War

by Griff Hosker

  “Magnus Bare Legs, you should have stayed where you were safe. The Mercians and the Cymri are easier to defeat. You have been led astray by Hairy-Breeches again!”

  He swung the axe easily over his head in a circular motion. “When Sihtric Silkbeard and Erik of Mann have finished with your people you will have nothing to go back to!”

  “Then it is fortunate that they were both defeated.”

  His face showed that they did not know of the disaster which had befallen them. “You lie!”

  I shook my head, “The world knows that Jarl Dragon Heart is never foresworn. There is no-one coming to aid you and,” I inclined my head to the left, “your allies are deserting you.”

  As he glanced to his right I jabbed forward with Ragnar’s Spirit. For such a big man he had quick reactions and his axe head swung down to strike Ragnar’s Spirit. Instead of tearing through his stomach it sliced along his famously bare legs. The blood flowed.

  “Are you Loki now to play tricks?”

  “No, I am the warrior who will kill Magnus Barelegs.”

  His axe swung around. I did the unexpected; I stepped into the blow and dropped to one knee. I raised my shield as I stabbed upwards. It went upwards through his groin and out of his back. I must have struck his heart on the way through for all life went from his eyes and his axe fell to the ground. His oathsworn roared in rage and I was knocked backwards by an axe blow. Had I not had such a good helmet then it would have felled me. I sat back, stunned.

  They dragged his body back next to his banner and stood in a determined circle. They would die protecting it. My men moved forward. “No! Bring archers!”

  Siggi shouted, “Where is the honour?”

  “You can have the honour when Rorik and Ragnar Hairy-Breeches are dead. Archers and javelins!”

  Haaken helped me to my feet as Cnut took charge. It was not pleasant but it had to be done. The arrows and the javelins were loosed from such close range that each one was deadly. Magnus Bare-Legs oathsworn died singing his praises. The last to die was the standard bearer. His body was riddled with arrows but he hung on to the last until his body and the standard fell on the body of Magnus Bare-Legs.

  I looked to the east and saw Rorik and Ragnar Hairy-Breeches withdrawing down the road which bordered the Mere. They still had a hundred and fifty warriors. “Haaken, recall the warriors. Night is falling and I want no more losses. We have saved Windar’s Stead. Tomorrow we can pursue Rorik.”

  The end of a battle is never a pleasant place. The enemy wounded were despatched as were those of our own folk who were too badly wounded to live. Bodies were stripped of valuables. Normally the enemy were despoiled but Magnus and his men had died well and we made a pyre from the wood they had cut to build their causeways and rams. In the dead of night the Mere was lit with the flames from the funeral pyre of eighty warriors.

  There were too many of our men to rest inside the Stead and so we camped on the higher ground, now cleared of bodies. I was the only one of my warriors to go inside Windar’s Stead and that was to see the damage that our enemies had done to us.

  Windar had fought bravely as had his people. He had lost his right hand in the fighting. Snorri had been on hand with a burning brand and had staunched the bleeding. Over fifty warriors, women and children had perished in the fighting. As Windar told me that was much less than would have died had they not been able to bring them all within the walls.

  We had lost fewer warriors than I might have expected but we would still be outnumbered when we pursed them on the morrow. I left Windar to repair his damage and went, with Snorri, to sleep amongst my warriors. My last task, before I slept was to send Snorri to the drekar. He would be able to follow the Norse invader safely and find where they went.

  I was aching as I lay down to sleep. Bjorn would have much work to do on my helmet and armour when I returned to Cyninges-tūn. However, no matter how much damage my armour had suffered, I knew that those we followed would be in an even worse state. I had taken the opportunity, whilst in Windar’s Stead, of having my sword and my seax sharpened. I knew that I would need them soon.

  I was woken, deep into my slumber, by Snorri. “Jarl, they are camped at the far end of the Mere.”

  I sat up, suddenly awake. “They did not take the road close to Cherchebi?”

  He smiled, “No jarl. I am not certain if they missed it by accident or by intention but they carried on south.”

  Haaken and Cnut were listening. “Then they have made a mistake. They could still head east but the land there will be as flooded as the land around Cherchebi. We can get ahead of them!”

  I went back to my bed to get another couple of hours sleep. I ran through the events as I drifted back to sleep. Magnus and Ragnar would have travelled further inland when they had headed north. Ragnar would have told Rorik of the flooding around Cherchebi and they would have assumed they could miss out the swampy area and the garrison and cross further south. We knew our own land. We had cursed the rain we had had for some many days but it had been for a purpose. The gods were working for us and the Norns were being as complicated as ever.

  Chapter 22

  I filled the ‘Hawk’ with archers and sent it down to the end of the Mere. They could watch the enemy and harass them, if possible. We marched towards my son. I wondered what he would be thinking. He had been isolated for many days. The enemy had come and gone. He had not seen us. I knew that he would be worried and I hoped that his mother had seen fit to visit his dreams.

  The sleep had been our first one which had been uninterrupted. It showed for my men marched with purpose. Crost’s Waite was still empty which meant that the farmer and his family were still in Arturus’ fort. The ground was now merely damp rather than being a quagmire. The river, however, was still high. We would need to build a bridge once we reached the fort.

  We waved to the men on the walls as we approached. I sent some of the men from Ulla’s Water to cut down trees to make a bridge across the river to the fort. While they did so we went to speak with Arturus across the river.

  He looked relieved to see us, “What happened?”

  “The short answer is that we have defeated the men who besieged you.” I pointed to the south east. “They went down the Mere and I fear they will be heading east. We go to cut them off. We are building a bridge to reach you.”

  I could see that he was happier and I heard it in his voice. “We worried when they left and went north along the river. Some of the guards thought that they had seen you leave and follow them but we heard nothing and I feared the worst. Is it over?”

  “Almost but I would not send your farmers back. Let them garrison the fort and we will take your Wild Boar with us.”

  It did not take my men long to throw together a bridge. We used rope to tie it together and we quickly crossed the swampy ground. I embraced my son. “You have done well Arturus.”

  He shook his head. “I did nothing save stay in my fort and hide.”

  “No, you denied them the crossing. And it has made them avoid you and travel south. Now we must leave and catch them. I do not want to have to fight these again. I want their trail home to be marked by their bones.”

  It did not take the Wild Boars long to ready themselves. “Crost, you are a good warrior. Watch over the fort. We will be seven days at the most and then you can return home.”

  He nodded and said, quietly, “Your son is a good leader. He may be young but he has your head on his shoulders. He will make a good jarl.”

  I sent Snorri off with two others who had skill in scouting. They headed south east. As we walked I spoke to my son and my leaders of my thoughts. “They will have to cross the great divide further south. They cannot use the Dunum for it is too far north. They will think we are following and will try to out run us. Rorik has his home, now, in Eboracum. That will be his direction.”

  “And Ragnar Hairy-Breeches?”

  “I am not worried about him. Besides we can visit him in his home. He was not t
he instigator of this attack. That was Rorik.”

  When Arturus heard about his uncle and his treachery, he was all for going after him too. I shook my head. “Your mother, as well as Olaf and the spirits protected us. They spared him. He did no harm, none whatsoever. We did not have to blunt one weapon to destroy him. The mountains did that. Jarl Erik will spend long lonely nights in Mann fearing that the spirits will revisit him there. The best vengeance we can have is to do nothing and he will punish himself.”

  Haaken laughed, “And that harpy he is married to will make his life seem like Hel! I agree with your father. He will have a worse punishment than mere death.”

  Snorri found us in the middle of the afternoon. There was a deep almost dry valley which ran for many miles south. On the far side the high divide rose like a huge scar running north to south. There was a trail which twisted north and then headed east. He had found them. Rorik was heading that way. It acted like a spur for my men. They almost began to run. Snorri led the way and his speed was almost too fast for us. He had Beorn’s death on his mind. He wanted to be the one to capture Rorik.

  We had found few of Rorik’s men on the battlefield. The ones we had killed had been in his camps. It seemed that Magnus Bare-Legs men had borne the brunt of the deaths. We had found a few followers of Hairy-Breeches but he still had many men.

  We found them in the late afternoon. They had had a longer journey and shorter rations than we had and they were camping on the north side of the valley, close to a stream which tumbled from the steep valley sides. This was no time for strategy. We could not risk them fleeing. We formed up in two wedges. The Ulfheonar were to the left and the Wild Boars to the right. The warriors we had brought from Cyninges-tūn and Ulla’s Water filled the space behind.

  When Rorik saw us he formed his men into a shield wall. I suspected that they were too exhausted to run. As we marched, rather than ran, across the valley and the shallow stream I realised that Ragnar Hairy-Breeches was not with him. It was a smaller band that we faced but there still remained one enemy who would have to be dealt with; another enemy who had to be taught to leave the wolf alone.

  The formation we were using was appropriate. It was a Saxon one called the wild boar. The two points would strike deep into the enemy line and overlap the centre. Rorik would watch his men being killed and he would be safe in the middle until we turned our teeth upon him. We slowed once we crossed the stream to make sure that all the shields were still locked and we had lost no one. Rorik had chosen his defensive site well. There were small rocks which threatened to trip us and he was up hill. His men hurled their spare spears as we began to trudge the last ten paces. They clattered into our shields but we were all well armoured. They did no damage and we moved relentlessly uphill.

  “Now!” My Ulfheonar ran the last eight paces so that we had some momentum when we struck their line. The Wild Boars had spears but Rorik’s men and mine had shattered theirs. It was sword on sword. The difference was that we were rested and we had sharpened weapons.

  A sword arced down towards me. The men of Frisia were in a double row and had the room to swing. I blocked it with my sword held horizontally. I smiled as the warrior’s sword bent. I pulled Ragnar’s Spirit back and then slid it forward. It sank deep into his body. I twisted it as I pulled it out. The men on either side were felled by Cnut and Haaken and I punched at the warrior behind. The boss of my shield cracked into the knuckles on his hand. His hand went back and I brought my blade down diagonally towards his neck. I was moving forward already even as his body slipped before me. The centre of Rorik’s line was now surrounded by the two wedges and he stood with ten of his oathsworn.

  Arturus ran at him, flanked by two of his Wild Boars. I put my seax in my left hand and I ran to aid him. The warrior, who had been felled by Haaken, reached a hand out to grab my foot as I ran by him. Haaken quickly finished him off but I was already falling forward. Three of Rorik’s men raced towards me with weapons ready to hack at me. Cnut stepped quickly to aid me and took the blow of one sword on his shield. I just managed to get my sword in the way of the axe which swooped down from above. I slashed out wildly along the ground with Ragnar’s Spirit and felt it bite into the ankle of the third warrior. I rolled over as the axe descended again and I was on my feet before the warrior could strike a third time. Stepping back I raised my shield and feinted to the warrior’s left. As he brought his axe to block it I spun around and brought my blade to gouge into the side of his body.

  As he fell dead I looked up and saw that the two warriors who had been with Arturus lay dead and my son was being attacked by both Rorik and his standard bearer. I ran and launched myself like a human spear. I held Ragnar’s Spirit before me. Rorik saw me at the last moment. He turned and my sword slid along his shield. I crashed to the ground and was briefly winded. Rorik gave a cry of triumph and brought his sword down. I tried to move but it was in slow motion. My shield would not come round in time and the sword was slicing towards my stomach. The armour had been designed to stop blows from above. This one was coming from the side. I knew that it would tear through the wires holding the plates in place, then through the padded tunic and I would die the slow death of a stomach wound.

  I forgot that I still clutched the seax and Rorik’s sword clanged against the thick metal. I twisted my left hand and stabbed blindly with my sword. The spirits guided my hand and my sword sank into his knee. I twisted and heard him scream in pain. I jumped to my feet and punched at him with my shield and seax at the same time. This time it was his turn to be winded. I swung my sword around in a horizontal arc and it bit through the mail and into his shoulder. Fear was in his eyes. I remembered Beorn as I hit him again. This time it was a diagonal blow. It went through his mail and jarred on the bone in his shoulder. I knew that pain! He staggered and I repeated the blow. This time it went into the flesh and he screamed, falling to the ground.

  He lay on the ground, gripping his sword and his body shuddering as he slowly died. I had given him four or five wounds and he was bleeding to death. He tried to curse me but the curse was in his eyes only. The light went from them and Rorik perished. He should have stayed in Frisia.

  I looked around and saw my son leaning on his sword. The standard bearer lay dead but Arturus had been wounded by a sword. A flap of skin hung down from his cheek. Haaken ran to him. “Fear not Jarl. I have learned from Aiden. Your son will not die.” He took some of the spirit that the men of Dál Riata distilled and poured some on the wound. Arturus gritted his teeth at the pain. He began to stitch the flap of flesh in place. I turned and saw our victorious men despatching the enemy.

  Snorri pointed to the valley side. Thirty odd warriors were fleeing. “It looks like Wiglaf has escaped.”

  I shook my head. “We have killed the snake and taken its head. The body will die. It is time to go home. The Viking War is over and we can enjoy our celebration of victory.

  Epilogue

  We had lost more men in the last battle than in the ones which preceded it. Six more Ulfheonar went to Valhalla and the Wild Boards had lost half of their number. It was a harsh lesson for my son to learn. His face was healed but he would bear the scar to his grave. Haaken blushed when both Kara and Aiden praised him as a healer. He had prevented a worse wound. Arturus was equally adamant that he would return to his fort. The loss of his men had made him more determined than ever to become a better leader and he returned within the month with ten volunteers who were eager to become Wild Boars.

  Our ships returned and we wasted no time in sending them out to trade and to spread the word about our victory. We wanted all to know whom we had defeated. I sent a personal message to Ragnar Hairy-Breeches. I told him to find some corner of the world where I would not find him for when I did then I would finally rid the world of his treachery. As far as I was concerned he could sail across the sea to the edge of the world and I would find him.

  As I stood on the shore, watching the sunset in the west, I thanked Olaf the Toothless and al
l the spirits who had saved our people. Cyninges-tūn was still our home and it was stronger than ever. We would have to defend it again and I knew that it would be people like us who would come to wrest from us this most perfect of homes. I swore an oath that night that I would give my life before we would lose one part of my land. I was Jarl Dragon Heart and my people were the people of the wolf. We would make the stone of the land become the bedrock of our homes. We would become stronger and we would survive.

  The End

  Glossary

  Names and words in italics are fictional

  Áed Oirdnide –King of Tara 797

  Afon Hafron- River Severn in Welsh

  Aiden- a former Hibernian slave and a galdramenn

  Arturus- Dragon Heart’s son

  Bardanes Tourkos- Rebel Byzantine General

  Bebbanburgh- Bamburgh Castle, Northumbria

  Blót – a blood sacrifice made by a jarl

  Bro Waroc'h- one of the Brythionic tribes who settled in Brittany

  Byrnie- a mail shirt reaching down to the knees

  Caerlleon- Welsh for Chester

  Casnewydd –Newport, Wales

  Cephas- Greek for Simon Peter (St.Peter)

  Chape- the tip of a scabbard

  Charlemagne- Holy Roman Emperor at the end of the 8th and beginning of the 9th centuries

  Cherchebi- Kendal (Cumbria)

  Cherestanc- Garstang (Lancashire)

  Cnut- The warrior who was with Dragon Heart when his sword was struck by lighting

  Cymri- Welsh

  Cymru- Wales

  Cyninges-tūn – Coniston. It means the estate of the king (Cumbria)