by Griff Hosker
Saxon England
Book 3 in the
Wolf Brethren series
By
Griff Hosker
Published by Griff Hosker 2013
Copyright © Griff Hosker
The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Dedication
This is dedicated to you my readers. I am gratified that you continue to buy my books and, I hope enjoy them. I will continue to write them, if only because I enjoy creating the stories and the characters and, I hope, bringing history to life. Thanks to my new readers in Canada and Germany; you are a new and welcome audience. And a big thanks to my family- especially Eileen for finding all my errors- at last!
Table of contents
Map Page 6
Chapter 1 Page 8
Chapter 2 Page 35
Chapter 3 Page 50
Chapter 4 Page 70
Chapter 5 Page 87
Chapter 6 Page 107
Chapter 7 Page 131
Chapter 8 Page 151
Chapter 9 Page 169
Chapter 10 Page 190
Chapter 11 Page 209
Chapter 12 Page 231
Chapter 13 Page 251
Chapter 14 Page 263
Chapter 15 Page 282
Chapter 16 Page 303
Chapter 17 Page 324
Chapter 18 Page 336
Chapter 19 Page 360
Chapter 20 Page 379
Glossary Page 389
Historical Note Page 392
Other books Page 396
Britain in the late 6th Century
Part 1
The end of Rheged
Chapter 1
Civitas Carvetiorum Yule 593 A.D.
It had been a year since King Urien of Rheged had been treacherously murdered by one of his body guards, Llofan Llaf Difo. Although his murderers had been killed by my warriors and me, it still rankled that the man who paid them to do this, King Morcant Bulc, still lived. That was not my doing; I would have slain him on the spot and his oathsworn but the dying king forbade it. Since that time I had been counselled by Queen Niamh, King Ywain, my wife Aideen and my healer and confidante, Myrddyn, not to kill him. Although I told them I would not I knew that, one day, the snake would die at my hands. He had ordered the murder of the last great king for he was jealous of King Urien’s success and now he suffered because of his own actions, wyrd. The Saxons, under Aethelric had made steady gains up the east coast and much of Bernicia was now in Saxon hands. We now called it the Saxon name and not the old name Bryneich. King Morcant Bulc still held his fortress of Din Guardi and Metcauld but the lands to the south were now ruled by Saxons and its people were slaves to the men from the sea.
As yet the voracious Saxons had avoided conflict with us. It made sense for we had never been defeated and there were easier targets for them. King Urien and the men of Rheged had never lost a battle and the Saxons were wary of us. Besides they still had much to do to conquer the kingdom of Elmet where my brother, Raibeart, now a prince of that land defended the besieged people of Elmet effectively. In the old days I would have led a force from Rheged to aid our ally but these were parlous times and we could not afford the luxury of helping our allies for we knew that King Aethelric of the Saxons would take the opportunity to invade us. My brother and his father in law knew that they had a sanctuary in the north west and I also knew that Raibeart would not risk his family on a dangerous journey. When he felt that they had finally lost he would join me and our young brother Aelle, defending the last free part of the old Roman province of Britannia. We had ensured our safety by building up our defences and our armies. We were a rich people; the wisdom of King Urien had seen to that, and while the rest of the island was subject to anarchy and war, the peace of Rheged meant that merchants still sought us out to sell their wares and we still sent our goods abroad. The privations of the Hibernian pirates might end that soon but we had survived well after the tragic death of King Urien.
King Ywain Rheged was my friend and I had fought with him, shoulder to shoulder on many occasions but he was not the king his father was. He was brave and he was fair but he did not have the strategic mind his father had had and I knew that one day, the inevitable would happen and the Saxons would come in such great numbers that they would overwhelm us. We had a sanctuary ourselves; a place to which we could flee. It lay further north, the King of Strathclyde was King Ywain’s father in law and he would protect us but I knew that would only stave off the eventual end of the line of Rheged for even Strathclyde could be taken by the huge numbers of Saxons who had fled their lands to conquer ours.
My son, Hogan, now had a young brother, Urien, as well as his sister Delbchaem and, along with their mother, they were now my prime concern. I had fought long and hard for Rheged but I knew that it was a lost cause. Despite the fact that I, too, had never been defeated and was the one warrior the Saxons feared and hated; the Wolf Warrior. I was a realist and knew that there would come a time when I would have to run. The Saxons were like fleas- there was no end of them. My healer, Myrddyn, had been sent to aid me by the spirit of my dead mother and his arrival and support gave me hope that my family, at least, would survive for he was a pagan and steeped in magic and lore. Even the followers of the White Christ, like my own castle priest, Brother Oswald, respected his skills. Myrddyn and I believed that I would not die at the hands of a Saxon. He dreamt the future but, so far, he had not dreamed my death. I did not know if this was good or bad but, until he did dream it I would live.
I had been gratified, when we had returned with the dead king’s body and buried him with all honours, that Riderch, the former champion of Bernicia, and his brother Ridwyn brought a hundred Bernician warriors to join me. He had looked ashamed as he had bowed to me. “My lord these men have joined with me and left our king, Morcant Bulc, for we feel he has no honour.”
“You have broken your oaths?” As warriors an oath was more binding than blood.
He had looked me in the eye. “The oath meant nothing once our king betrayed the oath he took to Kling Urien.” He had shrugged. “We will deal with that in the afterlife but for now we would serve you.”
Although I was pleased to have such doughty warriors, my castle and my lands could not afford to support another hundred warriors but King Urien’s adviser, Brother Osric, came up with a solution. My brother, Raibeart, had been the defender of the fort at the end of the old Roman wall. Since his departure it was an invitation to the Saxons to attack Civitas Carvetiorum which was but fifteen miles to the west. The solution pleased everyone and we were all now much more secure.
This was the first time we had all gathered at King Urien’s old fortress since he had died. Earlier celebrations had seemed wrong somehow but, as King Ywain now had an heir, the Dowager Queen Niamh had ordered us to attend. As I had brought my family through the gates I had felt a sadness I had not felt since my own parents had been killed by the Saxons. I had already paid them back for that loss and I knew that Aethelric and his men would also pay, as well as the Bernician king, for the loss of King Urien.
There was a subdued atmosphere without any of t
he normal banter and good humour. I was, of course, saddened by the fact that Raibeart was still in Elmet. The Dowager Queen had made a great fuss both of me and my family. She had a close attachment to all of us. When I had arrived she had embraced me and whispered in my ear. “Each time I see you, Lann, I am grateful to God for sending you to us. You could not save Urien’s life but you made the end of his life valuable and I thank you for that.” Then she had swept my daughter into her arms and taken my family away. “Come, let us see what cook has made for three good children!” I was very fond of the queen but I had noticed how frail she was. This time next year she would struggle to lift up my little girl.
As was my usual practice I first sought out Brother Osric who was the steward of the castle as well as being the brains behind many of the strategies. I knew that Myrddyn would have joined him immediately he had arrived for the two enjoyed each others company as well as common wit and ideas. As I entered the priest’s office, which also doubled, sometimes, as his bedchamber, they were poring over another of the maps Brother Osric made. I knew that this one had been some collaboration with Myrddyn for he had added places he had encountered when travelling from Wales to Rheged some years earlier.
“And what will you do with all these maps priest? Most men cannot read them anyway.”
He sniffed, somewhat imperiously. “My collaborator here can as can my Brothers in the church. If you warriors cannot read them then it is your loss.”
“Oh I didn’t say I couldn’t read them. I take it this is a gift for me?”
“Do not be ridiculous; I daresay Myrddyn will copy one for himself which you may read.” He leaned back and gestured towards a jug of the red wine he favoured. I often thought that the old priest had engineered the trade just so that he could get his hands on the fortified wine which came from the Iberian Peninsula. The room reflected the old man. It was very plain without a window and only a table and a case for his precious parchments. “Have you heard from your brother lately?”
We suddenly all became serious. I shook my head.”Not for a while but it is winter and he will have more things to worry about than keeping his big brother informed of events in Elmet.” I took a small drink of the wine which I knew had a kick like a mule. “I suspect that the Saxons are busy consolidating their gains in Bernicia; after all Morcant Bulc is not as tenacious as Raibeart.”
Osric snorted. “If I were to compare him to any animal it would be the creature they have in Greece, a tortoise, like the one which killed the poet Aeschylus.” Even Myrddyn looked blankly at this reference. Osric waved his hand in front of his face impatiently. “An eagle dropped one of these creatures on his head as the poet had a bald pate and the eagle took it for a rock.”
“What creatures?”
“A tortoise. Oh do pay attention Lann. I thought you were brighter than this. A tortoise has a hard shell and can withdraw into it when enemies are about. It thinks it is safe but, as Aeschylus and the eagle discovered, there is always a way to break through any defence. “He sat back exhausted by his explanation. “That is Morcant Bulc. He hides in his castle thinking that no-one can get in. But they will.”
Silence fell until Myrddyn offered, “But they will defeat King Morcant Bulc will they not and then what?”
“And then they will turn their attention to Elmet and my brother and his family will be defeated.”
Osric shook his head, “Perhaps not.”
“You forget old man that I sat in with you and King Urien and helped plan our campaigns. We all agreed that it would take the combined armies of the four allies to defeat the Saxons. We do not have that army. In fact, even Rheged’s army is smaller now than the one which defeated Aella and you can bet that the Saxon one is larger. They have more men than we do.”
“Perhaps we need to use the gods and magic to help us.”
I saw Osric shift uncomfortably in his seat at Myrddyn’s mention of these pagan ideas. He had seen them work but it did not sit well with his Christian beliefs. “How?”
“We use nature as your brother does.” Aelle had made an almost impregnable stronghold by combining a lake with ditches and cunningly built walls; his domain may be captured but his home would be safe. “The Romans used nature; just look at their wall where Riderch now rules. They divided the country from coast to coast to keep out the barbarians.”
“Are you suggesting we build one too?”
“I am saying that there may come a time when we do build such a defence and then, of course, we can use stealth as I did once.” Myrddyn had infiltrated the Saxon camp as a healer and helped to rescue Ywain when he had been but a prince.
I found myself nodding.”Now that is easily achieved. We have many men who can speak Saxon and many cunning and clever men. That may be something we can think about.”
Osric took a deep breath and stood to ensure that the door to his office was, indeed, closed. “I am afraid that it will be you, as warlord, who has to make these decisions. Left to himself our new king will vacillate and wait for some divine intervention. His wounds, and his father’s death, have made him think of his mortality. I would make those decisions and then tell him later. As we learned from Bladud and the assassin we cannot always trust those who are closest to us.”
I had accepted the role from King Urien but this was different; would King Ywain back up my decisions? Myrddyn did his trick of reading my mind again. “Do not forget, my lord, the men with Riderch owe their allegiance to you and the majority of the men of Rheged would follow your banner. The warriors of this land look to you and not to King Ywain.”
“Would that not be treachery on my part if King Ywain did not agree?”
“Myrddyn is correct Lord Lann. King Ywain would not oppose you; he might disagree with you or not wish to fight himself but he would not oppose you. Those decisions would be yours and I know that Prince Pasgen and his men would follow you anywhere.” I smiled; Prince Pasgen was like the old Ywain. He was aggressive and enthusiastic. He had led one of the charges which had destroyed Aella’s hopes of defeating us and he would be a valued ally. “And of course there is Lord Gildas.” Lord Gildas had been a young warrior with Ywain and me. He had been responsible for the defence of the realm when we fought Aella and would have been given Raibeart’s domain had the king not been murdered. Instead he was given the northern lands to rule while the king ruled from Civitas. “He has a powerful army and can lead your equites. No, I do not think that King Ywain will pose a problem but you, my young warlord, need to make your plans now while you have time.” He nodded to Myrddyn. “This young man can aid you and we can now communicate quickly.”
I gave them both a questioning look. Osric looked self satisfied but Myrddyn was still my man and he said, “Birds, my lord. We have homing pigeons and we can send each other coded messages which, if intercepted, would yield no useful information.”
It was obvious that they had both been planning this for some time and that gave me comfort. I was a warrior and not a thinker. “Well I feel happier now. I will see you at the feast.”
King Rheged had definitely grown more portly since I had last seen him. He obviously enjoyed a comfortable existence but he also looked much happier. I suspect the birth of his son had done that. His wife, too, the daughter of King Rhydderch Hael, looked happier. The loss of their first born in the wolf winter had made her thin and tearful. Aelle had definitely grown more portly, but that was to be expected for with only one arm he was no longer active but he kept his mind active and had the most productive part of the realm. Freja, his wife and a former slave, had grown to be a lady of some standing and she frequently met with Queen Niamh and my wife. They provided assistance to those who had lost warriors in our wars. We were a family and life would have been perfect had it not been for the constant threat from without our borders.
After the feast we just sat around the huge fire and drank. Prince Pasgen sought Aelle and me out. “Have you had to deal with many Saxon raiders? You two, along with Riderch are the fron
tier now that Bulc has lost so much of his country.”
Pasgen shared our antipathy towards the Bernician and he supported my belief that he should die at my hands. I shook my head, as did Aelle, “There are a few but I suspect they are just adventurous bandits rather than part of Aethelric’s army. We leave their heads on a spear to discourage others.” He smiled at the punishment. “And the Hibernians? What of them?” Pasgen had begun to use a few ships built in the Saxon style to patrol his waters to discourage the pirates who disrupted trade.
“We have had some success but they are too heavily armed for us to take on.”
I suddenly remembered Angus, the Strathclyde warrior and his war hammers. “Do you remember when we fought Aella at the Dunum marshes? Angus and his warriors hurled their war hammers at the ships and burnt them.”
Aelle shook his head. “That was from land brother, there would be as much danger for the prince’s own ships as to the enemy.”
“True but the hammers crushed metal; imagine what they could do to a flimsy boat.”
“It is a good idea Warlord but we have no men trained to use them.”
“Then ask King Rhydderch Hael. I am sure he would loan you some men to train yours and it would aid him for he, too, is troubled by the Irish.”
Pasgen grinned. He had grown from the lithe young soldier into a powerful warrior who was capable of standing in a shield wall. “I am glad my father made you Warlord. So long as you rule the armies then there is hope. My equites long to ride behind the wolf banner.”
“I fear that will not be for a long time. We will need just to hang on to what we now hold and our equites must discourage the Saxons.”
And that was what we did once spring came and the land thawed. We kept three forces of horsemen constantly riding the borders seeking any sign that the Saxons were coming. Gildas led the equites of the king and Pasgen and me our own men. We had over two hundred mounted equites. We used mail, as did the warriors of the shield wall, but it was split at the crotch to protect the rider and his horse when fighting. Some warriors, Pasgen, Gildas, me and a few others also had a mail hood for our horses. This was not vanity for we would be at the point of the attack and our mounts would be immediate targets. My men still used the round shields of the shield wall, emblazoned with my red wolf but Gildas and Pasgen used the oval shields favoured by the Romans. They were better when used on horseback but my equites sometimes fought on foot and we compromised. We used a long javelin. We had found that the Saxons had taken to lying on the ground to avoid our shorter, throwing javelins and the longer spear prevented them from doing so. Finally we all used a long sword which Brother Osric told us was called a spatha by the Romans. Our equites, along with our archers were the difference between us and the Saxons and, perhaps, the reason why we had survived for so long.