Uhtred the Bold

by H A CULLEY

  ‘I’m Angus, Ealdorman of Edinburgh, and I say you lie.’

  ‘I am Uhtred, Thane of Duns and son of Earl Waltheof of Bernicia. I do not lie; not ever. I say again that you are trespassing on my father’s lands. Unless you wish to explain to King Kenneth that you were the man responsible for breaking a truce that has lasted for fifteen years, I suggest you withdraw.’

  Angus scowled at me, chewing his lip and cursing for a few moments.

  ‘Very well. I’ll do so if you hand over the outlaws sheltering behind your paltry warband and pay me five gold angels for the horses you’ve killed.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘The horses were killed to stop your aggression. Much as I regret it, their death was your fault; you must pay.’

  Angus swore again in frustration.

  ‘I won’t press the point, but only if you hand over Swefred and his outlaws.’

  ‘Swefred was the Thane of Dunbar,’ Hacca whispered to me.

  ‘And you can hand over the boy beside you as well,’ Angus added, his eyes lighting up as he recognised Hacca.

  ‘No, sorry. They are all now under the protection of Earl Waltheof.’

  ‘And you are going to stop me from taking them, are you?’ he sneered.

  I looked Angus in the eye. He was young, perhaps eighteen, and likely to be impetuous. His father had been itching to invade the rest of Lothian, and no doubt Bernicia as well, but Kenneth had managed to keep his younger cousin in check so far.

  ‘Yes, and if you try you are a dead man.’

  Angus licked his lips nervously. He was very conscious of my two archers and, although they had relaxed their aim on him, they had their arrows strung and could raise their bows, draw back and release in the time it would take him to give the order to charge.

  By now Swefred and his warriors had formed up behind us with the unarmed men, women and children behind them. I didn’t turn around to see how many there were but I later found out that there were twenty seven of them. Angus might have three times our number but many of his men were youths from Edinburgh whose idea of a fight was a brawl in a tavern on a Saturday night.

  The ealdorman raised his hand.

  ‘You may have won this time but the next time we meet I’ll kill you,’ he snarled.

  ‘You are very welcome to try. No one has yet come close, not in a fair fight at any rate.’

  ‘Goodbye, Uhtred, Bretwalda of Lothian. Soon you will be leader of nothing and no one.’

  So Angus had heard that I’d been elected as war leader of Berwickshire and Stirlingshire, had he? It wasn’t surprising, I suppose. Secrets were hard to keep these days, even from one’s enemies.

  ~~~

  Finding the other bands of outlaws now took on a new urgency and I sent Hacca to Glentress Forest in the Moorfoot Hills and Swefred to the Pentland Hills to find the other dispossessed thanes. This time I sent as many warriors as I could spare to escort them and it proved to be a sensible precaution. The Pentland Hills were further away and Swefred reached the outlaws before Angus had found them but Hacca ran into trouble.

  I had given Hacca twenty mounted warriors, six of whom were archers. They had spent the night in an ancient hill fort to the south of the confluence of the River Tweed and Eddleston Water. Here the Tweed formed the boundary between Selkirkshire and the shire of Edinburgh. As soon as they crossed the river and entered Glentress Forest they would be in Angus’ territory.

  ‘We forded the river near where Letther Water joins the Tweed and then followed the Letther north to enter the forest in the valley between Black Law and Whitehope Law. They are two of the hills which dominate the forest,’ Hacca explained.

  I nodded and he continued. I was prepared for a tale of failure as he had returned to Duns without any of the outlaws he’d been sent to find. What puzzled me was the fact that Hacca seemed very pleased with himself.

  ‘We saw no sign of anyone, not even when we scaled the highest hill, Dunslair Heights,’ the boy said. ‘However, we heard the sound of distant fighting coming through the trees and we followed a narrow animal trail downhill until we emerged at the edge of the forest. Across the valley we could see another of the old hill forts built by the Goddodin.’

  I knew that the Goddodin had been the tribe of Britons who had inhabited Lothian when our ancestors – the Angles – had conquered the area several centuries ago. Hacca went on with his tale.

  ‘It was quite a small fort and consisted on the usual concentric rings of earth ramparts but on the top someone had recently constructed a palisade. I assumed, correctly as it turned out, that the dispossessed thanes from this area had erected it to use the place as their base.

  ‘Over a hundred Scots were trying to scale the palisade,’ Hacca continued, ‘but the defenders had managed to keep them at bay up to now. I could see at least a dozen dead Scots lying at the base of the palisade and several more wounded men were being helped away to an area where there were several carts. Presumably the attackers’ baggage train was being used as an infirmary. I could see three or four monks tending to men lying in carts.

  ‘Apart from the men assaulting the ramparts, there were a dozen more mounted on horses or ponies watching from a distance of a hundred yards or so back from the fighting. I saw the same blue banner with a dragon couchant embroidered on it in gold that we had seen at our last encounter with Angus on the River Whiteadder.

  ‘On this occasion I sent my six archers forward to dismount eighty yards short of the group of riders. They didn’t notice them at first as they were watching the assault on the fort intently. When the first flight of arrows landed, three of the horses were hit as was the man holding the banner. He was wearing a pot helmet with a nasal which offered no protection to his neck. It was a lucky shot and it hit him just below the rim of the helmet, killing him instantly.

  ‘The second volley hit two more horses and wounded another man in the thigh. Chaos ensued initially but the remaining riders quickly sorted themselves out and charged the archers. The latter could have got off another volley but instead they got back on their horses and led the Scots towards where we were hiding in the cover of the trees. I had never fought a man in earnest,’ Hacca confessed to me, ‘and I was scared.’

  ‘I’ve fought many times,’ I told him with a smile, ‘and I always feel my guts clenching in terror until the first blow. Then instinct takes over and I don’t have time to feel fear.’

  The boy nodded.

  ‘Yes, I found the same. One of the men on horseback came straight for me. He was much larger than me and I saw that he had an axe which he swung at my head as his horse came level with mine. I fully expected the axe to bite into my side but I thrust my sword towards his exposed armpit anyway. It was like trying to push it into a tree but I was in a blind panic and I put all my weight behind it. After a moments initial resistance it slid into his body.

  ‘He was gravely wounded and all power went out of his blow. When his axe hit my back as I leaned forward, it glanced off my chain mail doing little damage, except to bruise me and crack a rib or two.

  ‘I suppose I must have been in pain but I didn’t feel it until later. I slid from my saddle just as he fell to the ground and I thrust the point of my sword into his neck. Blood spurted out but quickly stopped as he died. It was only then that I noticed the gold circlet around his helmet.’

  ‘Angus?’ I asked, not quite believing that Hacca had killed him.

  The boy nodded, looking proud.

  ‘What happened then?’

  ‘The other warriors killed the rest of the mounted Scots. Of course we outnumbered them two to one so it was an easy victory; our only casualties being two men with minor wounds. One of my men chopped off Angus’ head with the man’s own axe and he stuck it onto the spear to which Angus’ banner was attached. We rode out of the trees towards the main body of the Scots who broke off their assault to watch us as we approached. A great wail went up when they saw their leader’s head impaled on top of their banner.r />
  ‘Just at that moment the gates opened and the men inside sallied out to take the Scots in the rear. At the same time I signalled for my warriors to move into extended line and we started to canter towards the Scots. They may have lost their lord but they still outnumbered us by over two to one. However, the heart had gone out of them and they were leaderless. Apart from Angus himself, the senior thanes and chieftains had been amongst the men we’d killed in the trees. A few of the Scots started to flee and the rest soon followed suit. We rode after them and must have cut half of them down before they crossed the South Esk River and I called off the pursuit.’

  ‘Well done, Hacca. You’ve done far more than I could have expected of you, but where are the dispossessed thanes and the men who you rescued?’

  ‘I came on ahead to report back to you myself, but they have gone to raise the Lothian fyrd and then besiege what’s left of Angus’ men in the fortress of Edinburgh.’

  Hacca doubtless saw his chance of recovering what he’d lost, but I could see the danger inherent in the lad’s success. Killing Angus removed one threat but it would inevitably enrage Malcolm. Whatever Kenneth said, he would want revenge. It was true that we now had the opportunity to regain that part of Lothian which we’d lost but, if we did so, then even Kenneth might be forced to retaliate. I needed to think.

  ~~~

  Discussing my options with Leland, Ulfric and Kenric proved unhelpful. All three thought that I should mobilise our forces and go to the aid of Redwald, the thane in charge of the siege of Edinburgh. When I met with the two ealdormen, Iuwine and Gosric, they were equally bereft of ideas. I tried to discuss my quandary with Ecgfrida but my wife’s sole concern seemed to be the safety of our son, Aldred. She urged me to try and make peace with Kenneth before it was too late.

  I had a feeling that the King of Scots, who was facing trouble with the Norse settlers in the West and North of Scotland, would prefer peace on his southern border, but he couldn’t afford to lose face by allowing Edinburgh to fall. The solution I eventually came to was a compromise. I doubted very much if Hacca would be pleased with it, but I hoped that it would be accepted by everyone else.

  Chapter Nine – The Treaty of Falkirk

  Autumn 1000

  ‘King Kenneth has agreed to meet with you, Lord Uhtred,’ the Abbot of Melrose told me, once he had washed and changed into a clean habit after returning from his mission to the Scottish monarch. ‘You are to be at Falkirk on the first day of October and are to bring no more than thirty men with you.’

  ‘That’s unreasonable. How do I know that I can trust him? I intend to take every man who can bear arms just in case he, or more likely his grandson, Malcolm, plays me false.’

  ‘He has offered his son, Giric, as a hostage.’

  ‘Giric? If he is Kenneth’s son, why is Malcom his heir?’

  ‘Because Giric is only nine and, in any case, Kenneth accepted his cousin as his heir some time ago to avoid a challenge for the throne.’

  ‘Can I trust him, even with his son as hostage? More to the point, can he keep Malcolm from doing something stupid? After all, Malcolm has nothing to lose if Giric is killed.’

  ‘Malcolm has been told to stay away, or so Kenneth assures me.’

  ‘Hmmm, very well. Will you accompany me, Father Abbot, as the facilitator of this meeting?’

  ‘You think that the support of Holy Church will help? Very well, but why don’t you ask your father-in-law to accompany us as well?’

  ‘Thank you, I’ll do that.’

  ~~~

  Having one hard winter I had hoped that the next one would be better. It was a vain hope. Late September had been unusually cold with frosts in the morning but at least it had been dry. The weather turned milder just before I set out and rain swept in from the west. It seemed as if it would never stop and the once rock hard earth of the roadways turned to a muddy quagmire.

  I had hoped to reach Oxton in Lauderdale by nightfall but we had to keep stopping to rest our exhausted mounts as they battled against the slimy mire underfoot. As dusk descended we had only reached the tiny hamlet of Thirlstane. We were soaked to the skin and Bishop Aldhun had developed a cough that none of us liked the sound of.

  We spent the night on the floors of the hovels or in barns and outhouses, but at least we were dry. We had three days to reach Falkirk before the day appointed for the meeting but we still had over forty miles to go. As we had only travelled nine miles on the first day it looked as if I had seriously underestimated the time needed to get there; and that was without the delay imposed by the bishop’s poor health.

  The next day was dull and overcast but at least the rain had stopped for now. Our clothes were still damp from the previous day but by midday the sun appeared and our cloaks began to gently steam as they slowly dried out. Aldhun was no better and so I persuaded him to remain at the hall of the Thane of Oxton when we reached there. Now the going got a little easier but it was two hours or so after dark before we reached Oxenfoord, where Redwald, the thane who had been in charge at the old hill fort in the Moorfoot Hills, had his hall.

  I awoke the next day with a thick head. Redwald himself was still besieging Edinburgh, but his brother and family had insisted on laying on a feast for us. Hacca had been greeted as something of a hero and it showed the regard in which he was held as normally food was hoarded this late in the year; the only feast being held at Christmastide.

  I would have liked to see how the siege was progressing but there was no time. We pressed on as fast as we could all that day as the roads continued to dry out. As twilight fell we reached the village of Ratho, which meant hill fort in Brittonic, the language spoken by the Goddodin. Now we were only a dozen miles from Falkirk and I was confident of reaching there on the next day, the thirtieth of September and the day before my appointed meeting with Kenneth.

  I should have paid more attention to the nearby hill fort. The Thane of Ratho could have warned me but he was a Briton, not an Angle, and his loyalties lay with his fellow Britons in Strathclyde and their allies, the Scots. As we rode past the hill on which it sat a horde of armed men erupted from the top rampart and ran down the slope towards us, taking such great strides that any stumble on the uneven ground underfoot would surely result in a broken leg.

  They cascaded down the hill like a swarm of wasps disturbed from their nest. They were all on foot and few wore any form of armour but they outnumbered us by at least three to one. If they caught us we were doomed.

  ‘Do we fight, lord?’ Leland asked, drawing his sword and swinging his shield around from his back where it rested for travelling.

  ‘No, we bloody well don’t. Ride as if the devil was after you.’

  I kicked my heels into my horse’s flanks and he shot forward into a gallop. The rest of my men streamed after me, but then I remembered the Abbot of Melrose. He could ride, but not well, and there was not a cat in hell’s chance of him keeping up with us.

  ~~~

  The leading runners had reached the flat area at the bottom of the hill by the time that I’d managed to turn my horse around and head back to where the abbot was trailing along a hundred yards behind my rearmost warriors. He was clinging onto his horse for dear life as it galloped along, seemingly without any control by the abbot; merely driven by some instinct to stay with its stablemates.

  ‘Grip with your knees,’ I told him as I turned once more and came alongside him.

  His face was panic stricken but he nodded and did as I said. I interposed myself between him and the advancing Scots as they raced to cut us off. Then I was aware of more and more of my men turning and coming to form a screen between us and the enemy.

  The speed at which the Scots were running slowed now that most of them were on the level ground at the base of the hill. However, the nearest men were only fifty yards or so from us and still ahead of us. Given our respective positions and directions of travel, they would intercept us in a minute or two. I would have veered further south to avoid them b
ut we were hemmed in by a small river with steep sided banks. Then, mercifully, the river curved south-west and we followed it, leaving most of the horde of warriors behind.

  They screamed their frustration but a few managed to reach my screen of warriors. Their exertions had exhausted them, but our horses were beginning to flag as well. A dozen or so darted in to try and spear my rearmost warriors but they were ready for them. As they levelled their spears to thrust them into the horses’ flanks, their riders pulled the galloping steeds’ heads around. As I glanced behind me I saw half a dozen horsemen charge into the Scots and cut them down. Then they turned once more and cantered after us.

  We had all slowed our mounts to a canter now, fearful of them dying under us. About a score of our attackers ran after us for a hundred yards or so, then stopped. They stood hands on knees, trying to get their breath back. The rest, now some distance behind them, also stopped and started to trudge back the way they’d come.

  ‘Archers, with me,’ I called and, to everyone’s surprise I started to canter slowly back towards the leading Scots.

  My order might have taken my men by surprise but those with bows quickly followed me. There were only a dozen or so of the enemy close to us and they started to run away as we approached. They were too tired to manage more than a stumbling pace and we narrowed the gap quickly. However, some of the others had seen their plight and turned back towards us. It would be a close run thing.

  Once we were about fifty paces behind the isolated group my archers jumped out of the saddle, strung their bows and nocked an arrow in place. By then their targets were some eighty yards away but still well within range. Two quick volleys brought all but two down. Most were killed but three were wounded: one in the thigh, one in the calf and one in the shoulder.

  The man with the calf wound carried on limping away but the other two had fallen.