by Smith, Skye
"Are you taking prize ships?" Raynar asked with the sudden concern of a ship owner. "The Breton captains seem worried."
"If a prize ship presents itself, we will take it," replied Canute, "but only those flying a Norman pennant."
"Why do I have the feeling that Robert the Frisian put you up to this."
"Shhh, do not start such rumours," Canute laughed. They began swapping stories of the year since they had last been together, and the time passed pleasantly while a few of his captains who had ships at the dock joined them for the meal, as did Thorold.
During the meal, Raynar told of his adventures on the Severn, and how he had tried, and succeeded to have Normans kill Normans and knights kill knights. When one of the captains asked why that was so important, he switched to another story. The story of delivering Edgar to William in Caen, and his discussion with William while viewing the wall map of the original plans for the conquest of England.
"So it is misnamed, then," said Canute, "The original plan was never the conquest of England, but the conquest of Denmark. England was just an important first step because there were more Danes in England than in Denmark, and more wealth."
"It is important that your father learn of this," Thorold told Canute. "He must be told that William's original plan was to weaken Denmark to the point where it no longer has a say in the North Sea. It will effect every future decision your father makes."
"It effects Canute's decisions today," interrupted Raynar. "We have seen the truth of William's original plan in his actions. Remember the sheriff's writ I captured back in '67 that told Norman garrisons to plunder English Saxons but to kill English Danes. We have all seen the effect of the harrowing of the Danelaw. It may be that two hundred thousand English Danes have died since William invaded. Now we have another Norman army marching under Odo. Will they do the same. Will they kill the Norfolk Danes as they march?"
"There are not that many Danes left in Norfolk," Canute replied. "The last two Earls of Norfolk have been Bretons and they have replaced the Danish lords with Bretons."
"Only those surrounding Norwich," one of his captains corrected him. "The Norfolk coastline is still a string of Danish villages."
"I am a lord of Lincolnshire," said Thorold, "and I have noticed that the Danes left in Lincolnshire are now disguising themselves as Saxons. When I visit their villages, they no longer have the look and feel of Danish villages, nor do the clothes of the folk. They tell their children not to speak the Dane, but to speak English, and to learn Saxon words."
"Hah," interupted a captain so tall that he had to duck to walk about in this house. "easier done by a short Dane than by a tall one. Only the Frisians grow as tall as we."
"What do you suggest I do?" asked Canute. He had made plans with Thorold before. The man was a genius of logistics.
"Your ships have delivered their loads, and are empty," replied Thorold, "Sail the coast of Norfolk and give the villages the choice. They may stay and pretend to be Frisians or Angles, or leave on your ships."
"But where would we take them?" asked one of the captains.
"Somewhere closer to Denmark," replied Thorold. "where they can be defended by your fleets."
"I suppose that Robert the Frisian would allow many to settle in Flanders, and more in Frisia," said Canute. "My father wants to recapture the Humber and York. He thinks that is the way to rebuild the Danelaw. Perhaps if we moved the Norfolk Danes there it would help his plan."
"Not while William still lives," replied Raynar, "So long as he lives, the life of every English Dane is at risk." He looked back at the captain who had asked the original question. "And that captain, is why Norman must fight Norman. Let them butcher and weaken each other, without weakening the Danes or the English."
The captain replied, "The Breton captains tell me that they only came to Lynn because Odo's ships coming out of the Thames make it too dangerous to use the east coast ports closest to Norwich. They told me that Odo's captains plan to use Southwold as the main port to provision Odo's army while it marches on Norwich. The Daneglish on the east coast are seamen and fishermen and they know ships. Why don't we capture some of Odo's ships for them. If they had ships larger than fishing boats they could load their families and be gone from that coast, and return when the armies have left."
Canute's eyes sparkled. "I like this plan. It not only deprives Odo of ships and support, but it adds to our own fleet without thinning our own crews. The folk can make their own choice of where to move to, and carry themselves there. Yes, this is a good plan. Tomorrow we will send out some scouting ships, and have them bring back local pilots from that coast."
Thorold touched Raynar’s arm and said to him, "Lad, what are your plans for the morrow? I need someone to scout the highway towards Hempton Abbey to make sure that these mercenaries continue to Norwich and don't swing back into Cambridgeshire for a bit of looting. Do you still carry those writs that the sheriffs gave you when you rode to the Severn?"
"Oh, Thor. I just got back. I've been on the move for weeks," Raynar complained. "So now you ask me to chose between a soft bed with a warm woman in Cambridge, or sleeping under the pines with saddle sores in Norfolk." The table of men began to laugh in empathy as all of them had made similar choices many times in their lives. "Well if I am to scout the highways I will need horses for my wolfpack. We came to Lynn by boat."
"Only one wolfpack?" Thorold asked. "You think it enough. You can take more."
"I thought you said that this was a scouting mission. Why would I need more? No, the mercenaries will know that we are from Lynn, and will not hinder us. Besides, most of them will be beyond Hempton Abbey by now."
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Revolt of the Earls by Skye Smith
Chapter 9 - The battle of Fagaduna in Norfolk in August 1075
The wolfpack knew there was trouble ahead by the smokey smudge on the horizon. It was no wonder that riders sent along the highway by Earl Ralph had been hurrying the Boulonnais and Bretons along it all day. The earl's men had looked suspiciously at the wolfpack, but the Bretons vouched for them as scouts from the port of Lynn.
Young Raynar did not command this wolfpack. The elected wolveshead and second decided between them to get off the highway and ride overland south around the smoke ahead. This sounded logical to Raynar. If the smoke marked a battle, then Odo's forces would be to the south, and he could prove that he was allied to Odo with the Sheriff's writs. Strange but true. He was allied to the odious Odo. How he hated the politics of nobles and armies.
There was indeed a battle and in the confusion of movements of men, it took them some time to find Odo's command post. Even then , it was not Odo's army they found, but an advance force under William of Warenne and Richard of Bienfait. Though this made sense, as both of these men had land and castles in Norfolk and Suffolk, and would therefore be the first force to meet with Ralph's, the fact that Warenne was there made Raynar uneasy.
Warenne's brother had been one of the earliest Norman lords killed by the wolfpacks during the Ely rebellion. After the death of his brother, Warenne had been relentless in his attacks on the folk of the Fens, and had even sent assassins to find Hereward. Some even suspected that it was Warenne's assassins who had killed the English earl, Edwin.
Raynar was quite worried about how Warenne would react to a wolfpack riding into his camp. Even his writs may not save him from this man's vengeance. Their fates would be sealed and short if he, or any of the pack were recognized.
They had approached Warenne's camp from the south so that they would not be confused with Ralph's mercenaries on the highway. Warenne's camp was within spitting distance of Hempton Abbey. Across the small stream that ran to the north of the abbey, they could see a small village and beyond it another army camp, which must be Ralph's. While they were waiting to for an audience with Bienfait, or Beanfeet as the guards called him, they were told that the small village was called Fagaduna.
Baron Bien
fait stared unseeing at the writs. He could not read. While they waited for a monk to be fetched from the abbey to read them for him, Raynar told him of their contents. "We are scouts from Lynn. Our orders are to dog the mercenaries yonder and ride to warn the Cambridgeshire fyrd if they turn back towards Cambridge."
On hearing this, Bienfait began a string of questions that he framed to measure the size and strength of the camp across the river. He was pleased to learn that the Boulonnais were mostly pikemen and the Bretons mostly arbalesters, with few horses, and therefore no cavalry. His own force was mostly cavalry.
Raynar could not understand why Bienfait was pleased by this news. The Boulonnais and the Bretons were not English peasants who would run from a cavalry charge and be scythed down by the long cavalry swords. These men were professionals from the continent who would have long experience at fighting cavalry. The baron was obviously a fool.
A monk came running from the Abbey and it took him just moments to read the writs to the baron. Bienfait nodded and told Raynar that if he wished to watch the battle he could camp by the stream near to the abbey. The battle would be on the villager's crop fields on the Fagaduna side of the stream, so as not to crush the Abbey's crop fields.
The wolfpack chose to follow the monk back to the abbey, and the monk, having read the writs, and knowing that he was obliged to, offered them ale and food.
Since more mercenaries were arriving at Fagaduna each hour, the Normans under Warenne were in a hurry to attack. They forded the muddy stream and formed a line facing the mercenary camp and then charged. Meanwhile the wolfpack relaxed and watched it all from their chosen campsite on the south side of the stream. They were not surprised, though the cavalry was, when the charging line of horses reached the field in front of Ralph's camp and found out the hard way that it was strewn with many small horse traps, holes, stakes and trip wires.
The line of charging horses now became ragged as more and more horses were lamed and riders thrown. The cavalry had lost its advantage of speed and organization. The Boulonnais standing in front of the charge were waving various weapons, but then as one they bent to the ground and pulled up long pole axe pikes from the grass. They held their pikes angled from the ground to chest height, and stood with one boot on the foot of the pike to keep it in place. Although those pikemen directly in front of a horse flinched, they did so at the last minute to run backwards and sideways away from the hoofs.
The pikemen who were not directly in front of a horse, did not flinch, and they angled their pikes to the side to rake the sides of the passing horses with the pike blades, while ducking low and out of reach of the swords and lances of the cavalry.
The cavalrymen shouted in joy at what looked like the making of a route, and they slowed their horses immediately so they could turn and slash at the infantry. They had forgotten about the pikemen who had first flinched. These men were now behind the horses and were thrusting their pikes up the assholes of the horses. The effect on the horses was immediate. They kicked and bucked and twirled. The cavalry's weapons were now useless as it was taking the riders both hands to control and to hold on to their mounts and to keep their saddles.
Warenne was quick to see that a tragedy was unfolding for his cavalry, and had the trumpets sound the retreat, again and again. Were it not for those trumpets, most of his cavalry would have been slaughtered. As it was, a fifth of his men were dragged from their horses and lay pinned to the ground by the pikemen. The first charge was finished and it had not gone well for either side.
Bienfait was riding close by and Raynar called after him in French. "You are bloody lucky that the Breton arbalesters held their bolts. With the bolts to help them, those pikemen would have slaughtered your knights."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," snarled Bienfait, "the Pope in Rome has forbidden Christian arbalesters from targeting knights and nobles on threat of excommunication and eternal damnation." Raynar translated the baron's words for the hoodsmen and they all snarled curses against this Pope fellow, whoever he was.
Warenne waited while the enemy pikemen cleared the field of the wounded, and while his own captured cavalry limped under guard towards the enemy camp where they would be questioned for purposes of ransom. Once the field was clear he charged again. This charge was different. Just before they reached the field of traps, they split into two and used their speed to outflank both ends of the line of pikemen, hoping to drive them together and crush them in the middle.
The pikemen on each end ran for their lives towards their own camp. Warenne again was quick to realize that something was amiss, and had the trumpets sound the retreat. Some heard his warning too late. The camp was in the shadows of trees, and the trees grew there because of a brook, and the brook ran through a deep trench.
The fleeing pikemen scrambled down and across the trench, whereas every horse that reached it tried to jump it. The other bank looked solid but it was too soft to take the weight of the landing hoofs and horse after horse toppled over it's own nose. Their riders suffered greatly as they were catapulted into the ground with killing force.
None of the fallen men stood to defend themselves. The hoodsmen of the wolfpack had seen falls like this before, falls they had caused. There would be many broken necks and backs. Meanwhile the pikemen had reformed their line. Warenne rode towards Bienfait to discuss the situation, and while they were talking, Ralph's cavalry arrived. Warenne called his men all back to the abbey side of the river, and quit the fight for the day.
"Can't shoot knights, quit for the day, what kind of battle is this," railed the hoodsmen.
"A Norman one," replied Raynar, "They have two sets of rules. The peasants with them are fair game for anyone to kill, however, lords must be taken prisoner and must only be fought according to the accepted tournament rules of the day. That usually means that the peasants are not allowed to hurt a lord. Only other lords are allowed to hurt lords."
"Well it's a bloody good thing Warenne quit for the day, 'cause that camp at Fagaduna is getting bigger by the hour with men arriving from both directions along the highway."
* * * * *
The next morning Geoffrey, Bishop of Countances, one of the co-regents of England, arrived with his army. The battle began anew, and this time it was not cavalry against pikemen, it was mostly cavalry against cavalry. This time archers and arbalesters were part of the battle, not against the cavalry, but against the infantry.
The hoodsmen sat on a rise beside the stream to watch the battle, the same rise that the monks from the abbey had chosen for their own perch. Most of the monks were English. Many had been priests in local churches until they had been replaced by Norman priests.
The battle would have been quite equal except for the Pope's edict against using arbalests against cavalry. Instead the regent's army was winning, as they had a larger force of mounted men. The speed with which the cavalry could cover the clear and flat plain gave them the advantage over any infantry. Again and again, Ralph's infantry would get separated from their ranks and were ridden down by the regent's cavalry. At one point a dozen Breton arbalesters ran towards the river to escape, only to be captured by the regent’s infantry.
Later that day the hoodsmen heard screams of agony coming from behind them and two men were sent with a monk to investigate. The monk was ashen of face when he returned. The two hoodsmen reported to the rest of the pack. "They are hacking the right foot off each of those arbalesters. Poor buggers. With us it would be our string fingers, but with an arbalest there are no critical fingers, so they are losing a foot to ensure they are out of the battle and they will not run to escape."
Most of the monks understood the hoodsman's English and a party of them went to see if they could stop the barbarous treatment of prisoners, or at least ease their suffering, or tend the wounds. This time Raynar walked with the monks in case his wide knowledge of healing could be of help.
The foot cutting was being done by surgeons, or at least gaolkeeps who were well experienced at a
mputations. They worked quickly and were careful to sear the wound to stop the blood. Most of the victims were young, no older than Raynar, but their life was over. Should they survive this butchery and this battle, they would live a cripple's life of pain and hunger and desperation while they prayed for an early death.
By mid afternoon a truce was called on the battlefield so as to collect the bodies and the wounded, and to trade prisoners, since now Regent Geoffrey had captured enough of Ralph's knights to swap for his knights who had been captured the previous day by the Boulonnais pikemen.
Meanwhile Raynar used the truce to take a walk on the battlefield. Complying with the rules of the truce, he shed his weapons, and he shed his brynja as well. The dead who had already been stripped of valuables during the battle were now being ignored by the gleaners in favour of the wounded and the recently dead. He walked between men from either side, who were studiously ignoring each other as they tried to clear the battlefield of their own side's casualties.
When he came to a group of Breton arbalesters, dragging their own injured towards their camp, he stopped to talk to them, in Welsh which was similar to their own tongue. He told them that a dozen arbalesters were prisoner, and spoke the names that those prisoners had told to him. "I come to you with their warning not to be taken prisoner," he said.
"Prisoner is not so bad. We are mercenaries, not traitors. Every army needs mercenaries. We will be fed and offered other work in a different battle for a different lord."
"No you won't," replied Raynar and he swung the sack he was carrying onto the ground in front of the arbalesters.
They opened the sack and at first could not decide what the contents were, so they emptied the sack on the grass. A half a dozen bloody feet rolled from the sack and formed a grizzly mound in front of them. They were silent, and then they began to curse. "They did this. What had the men done, killed a noble?"
"They did nothing other than surrender," replied Raynar and then turned to leave.