Viking Warband

by Griff Hosker

  The Saxons like to use the fyrd. These were the freemen who worked the land. They owed service to their thegns. It was not a bad system. It was in their interests to fight for their lord. If he died then a new one might be worse than the one they had lost. The problem came when their lord was killed for the fyrd of the thegn had no reason to stay and they would flee. My men knew that. We sought out the thegns. We fought those with mail. There was more honour and greater rewards. You cracked the thegns and their walls of warriors crumbled. The chant gave us a faster pace than normal. It was a risk but it was worth the gamble for the Northumbrians were struggling to get into line. As we neared them I saw consternation amongst their leaders. Rædwulf and his lieutenants, all of whom were mounted, were engaged in a heated debate. I saw one of the older greybeards pointing to the two wedges. He could see what Rædwulf, apparently, could not. My wedge would strike the thegn whose banners was a crow, while Ragnar’s would strike the thegn who had the crossed swords. Neither thegn had any mailed men near them. They had their hearth weru. They were like Haraldr. They wore leather armour and had helmets but they were undressed compared with the Vikings who would strike them. The old greybeard had fought us before. Rædwulf had not. He was about to get a lesson in Viking tactics.

  They had some warriors armed with javelins and a few slingers. The slingers were a greater danger. I heard Cnut say, “Haraldr, watch your head! You have no helmet. Hold your shield above your head.”

  “Yes Cnut.”

  Most of the javelins landed well short. One stuck in my shield. I left it there. It would be returned to the Saxons with interest when we struck their line. A slingshot clanged off my helmet. I had a leather protector and padded hood beneath it but, even so, I knew I had been hit. Most stones hit our shields. It sounded like hailstone on stone. The fact that they were using javelins told me that we were close. We had stopped chanting. We had no need. Our bodies were as one. We all stepped off on the same foot. When we swung our weapons, it would be as one. The Saxons who waited us fought as individuals. Those who had fought before knew to wait and judge the strike. The ones who had never fought often panicked. So it was with the crow band we faced. The thegn and the two men next to him did not thrust their spears at us but the others rippled along the line as they stabbed at nothing. It was a wasted effort and, as they drew their spears back for a second strike, we closed with them.

  The thegn lunged at my body. His two bodyguards did the same. It was a waste of effort. They hit my shield and that was all. Rolf and Olaf swung their long Danish axes as I brought my sword in a sweep at head height. My sword caught the top of the thegn’s helmet as his shield managed to deflect my sword. His two bodyguards had no such luck. Olaf’s axe hacked through the leg of one while Rolf’s smashed the shield of his Saxon to kindling and broke his arm. I punched with the boss of my shield. My blow to the thegn’s helmet had jerked his head back. The shield exaggerated the movement and he began to fall. I stuck forward with my sword. The gods looked kindly on me for my blade went under his byrnie and into his groin. It was a feral scream which marked his death as he was disembowelled by Ragnar’s Spirit. With three men dead in the centre my wedge began to scythe through the ones at the side. The fyrd fell. Even those warriors of mine without a byrnie were better protected that the Saxons they fought.

  A spear rammed against my helmet and a wood axe struck the edge of my shield. A sword clanged off Ragnar’s Spirit. All were trying to get at me and, in doing so, they signed their own death warrant. The Ulfheonar were around me and while blows were striking me they were not striking them. We broke through their front rank. I heard a Saxon horn sound three times. I looked to my left and saw that my archers had managed to slay all of the priests. Two of those on horses had been slain along with their mounts. The horns sounded again, twice and the mailed men in the centre began to move back as one. As I had worked out, they were the best. They were now isolated for Ragnar’s wedge had advanced too. Rædwulf might not be a warrior but he understood strategy. He was moving his better troops back. Those on the side also fell back. Their move was not by choice. They were trying to get away from the deadly weapons wielded by my men. They were forming a circle. It would take time but we would slowly whittle down their numbers and slaughter them.

  The Weird Sisters weave complicated webs. They are intricate. They trick and they trap. I had wondered at the two signals. Suddenly Haraldr Leifsson shouted, “Jarl Dragonheart! Saxons are coming down the road from the east.”

  Behind me Olaf Leather Neck said, “They are the ones who were attacking the fort.”

  Raibeart and his men were behind us. If they were attacked on their right, with no shields to protect them then they would be slaughtered, with or without mail. I made a quick decision. “Wedge! Turn right, Make a shield wall!”

  I heard Cnut instructing Haraldr. At the front we did nothing but Raibeart and his men stopped facing Pennryhd and turned to present a solid wall of shields to this new foe which was marching down the road towards us. Haraldr’s height had saved us. He had seen them when they left the fort. Now they were in the dip and would suddenly appear. Had we not turned then it might have gone badly for us. As it was this would be a real battle, a bloody battle, warrior to warrior.

  To my left Haaken said, “Jarl Dragonheart, they are shifting those housecarls to face us.” They were able to do so for my men who advanced upon them had no mail. They could not press home an attack. The archers managed to hit one or two as they moved but, when we killed the fyrd who were before us and blunted our weapons, we would face Saxons who had yet to fight. They would be Northumbrians who would be fresh and the best warriors that Rædwulf had under his command.

  “Then we show them that we are Ulfheonar! We are the Clan of the Wolf and this is our land. If they want it they must kill us!”

  My men all began to bang their shields and to chant.

  Clan of the Wolf never forget

  Clan of the Wolf never forgive

  Clan of the Wolf fight to the death

  Clan of the Wolf never forget

  Clan of the Wolf never forgive

  Clan of the Wolf fight to the death

  Our archers did what I hoped they would. They shifted from the mailed warriors to the ones without mail. I did not think we had many arrows left and we needed to make them all count. The various movements had meant that Haaken and Olaf were no longer behind me, they were next to me. Rolf was next to Haaken and Rollo next to Olaf. Cnut and Haraldr stood behind me. Haraldr was a reassuring presence. While we waited for the inevitable assault I took the opportunity of slipping my dagger, Wolf’s Blood, into my shield hand.

  I heard Rædwulf shout, “Charge! These are heathens! They have slain God’s servants! Slaughter them all!”

  Olaf Leather Neck shouted, in Saxon, “Easier said than done, Saxon!”

  The mailed warriors came at us. They each bore a spear. They were three ranks deep and they had spears sticking out over the shoulders of the front two ranks. I found myself fearing for Haraldr who did not have a helmet. I think that made me fight harder. Haraldr had never known a father. The Ulfheonar fought that day as though we were his father. I did not wait for them to strike at me. I stepped forward and swung my shield up. Even a veteran spearman finds it hard to hold his spear and stab using just one hand. The spear heads screeched along my shield and helmet but no harm was done. I stabbed at the gap between two shields. I felt it grate along metal. I ripped it sideways and was rewarded by a grunt from the warrior to my right.

  Olaf Leather Neck shouted, “Watch out behind.” He brought his Danish axe over, one handed and it smashed down on to the helmet and skull of the Saxon in the second rank. My sword was still ahead of me and I ripped it sideways. It tore into the neck of the Saxon who faced Olaf.

  Rolf Horse Killer, encouraged by Olaf’s success, yelled, “Watch out behind.” As he swung, the warriors in the second rank moved back. Only a fool would wait for an axe to split his skull. We were pushing and
the warrior in the front rank was forced back by the press of men and it was his skull which was split.

  We were not having it all our own way. We had five Ulfheonar who were able to battle the mailed warriors on an equal footing. The ones to our left were not as skilled and I saw that Rolf was going to have to turn or risk an attack from the side.

  My son and grandson had found that their enemies had either moved or melted away. I heard Ragnar shout, “Men of Whale Island, Jarl Dragonheart needs blood! Make it Saxon blood. Let us spill it!”

  I forced myself to ignore what was happening to my left. We had a battle ahead of us. The death of four of their men created a gap. I took advantage and, stepping forward, smashed my shield into the face of the nearest Saxon. He was held in the press by the men behind and a spear is a hard weapon to use in close combat. I still held my dagger in, my left hand and I swept my shield towards the warrior to my left. The man I had just hit with my shield was still groggy and he never saw my dagger as it tore across his throat. A spear from the third rank jabbed forward and slid off my mail. I suspected it had damaged my byrnie but I could not afford to stop and examine it. We were driving the Saxons inexorably backwards. There was a roar as Ketil led his men and Asbjorn brought his warband to attack the rear of the enemy ranks.

  For one brief moment I thought that we had not only won, we had destroyed the threat that was Rædwulf. I was wrong. The Weird Sisters were spinning. When Ragnar and Gruffyd had brought our left flank to fall upon the mailed warriors it had alleviated the pressure on the Saxon right. Horns sounded and the horsemen and fyrd suddenly fled. They headed north. The mailed warriors, the thirty who were left, could not disengage. I did not think that they would have chosen to. They fought on. The close proximity of our best warriors to theirs meant that none saw the flight of Rædwulf and a third of his army until it was too late. Even Haraldr was too busy to use his height to see. Some of the Saxons had seen the opportunity to seize my banner. He and Cnut Cnutson were fighting for their lives and my banner.

  It was Beorn the Scout who saw the flight, “Jarl Dragonheart! Rædwulf escapes!”

  It was one thing to know that and another to do anything about it. A warrior fights one battle at a time and this battle was to the death. Neither side would give quarter. We were hard pressed but Gruffyd and Ragnar brought fresh blades and youthful arms to hack and slice into the right flank of the mailed Saxons. Ketil and Asbjorn had lost many men and they sought revenge. When they entered the fray, it became butchery. We had all seen too many friends die to give quarter. The last stand of the Saxons was a brave one but they were surrounded. My sword became so blunt that it was almost an iron bar. I sheathed it and used my dagger. I slashed, ripped and gutted warriors who had so many wounds that their mail ran red. My shoulders burned from the effort. And then it was over and we had won.

  The last man fell and an eerie silence descended on the battle field. There were none to give the warrior’s death for they had fought on with terrible wounds and dying. As I looked over the corpse covered battle field I hoped that the Saxon threat from Northumbria was extinguished, at least for the moment. I still had work to do but my northern borders were temporarily safe. Rædwulf had fled. I would need to find him and end this. I looked around and saw that my son and grandson lived. They were bloody and they had wounds but they stood. My Ulfheonar lived. Ketil, Asbjorn and Raibeart had wounds but their raised swords told me that they would fight again.

  Chapter 8

  We could have pursued their fyrd but it would have availed us little. They were beaten men. Their thegns, who survived, were dead or they had fled with Rædwulf. They had tried to take on the Vikings and they had lost. There would be no appetite for another such incursion. I was counting on that. We were exhausted. Rædwulf would escape, with his thegns. I had not yet finished with him. I saw that Gruffyd had a wound to his leg. My grandson and Einar Fair Face supported him. Ragnar had a scar across his face. Ketil and Asbjorn both had serious wounds. Raibeart was the one who had escaped relatively unscathed and so I put him in charge. “Give any wounded who cannot be healed a warrior’s death. Fetch in our wounded and then have our men strip the dead. We will make a bone fire yonder. We will let it mark the place where Northumbrian dreams were shattered. Take the heads from ten of the mailed warriors who died bravely and have them put in sacks.”

  “Aye jarl.”

  We had healers with us. Unlike the priests of the White Christ ours were warrior healers. Any who could not be healed were given a sword and sent to Valhalla. We saved more than we slew. I walked over to Ketil and Asbjorn. Asbjorn had lapsed into unconsciousness. He had suffered a blow to the head. “What happened?”

  Ketil said, “When they came we sent riders. The Saxons were cunning. None made it to bring us aid. When Asbjorn came they tried to ambush him. He barely made it to the Roman fort. We were separated and did not know if you knew of this. We lost many men, Jarl Dragonheart. We cannot let this wrong go unpunished.”

  “And we will not. Are you able to ride?”

  “I am.”

  “Then tomorrow we take the Ulfheonar and twenty men who can ride. We go to Dunelm and we make our demands on this Saxon who seeks the throne of Northumbria.”

  Ragnar said, “And what of us?”

  “You have done your duty. You return to Whale Island. I leave you to divide the spoils.”

  “But should we not go with you?”

  “It was me they came for and it is me who will beard the beast in his den.”

  “Twenty men?”

  I laughed, “Twenty men and the Ulfheonar! That will be enough!”

  Haraldr wished to come with us but his large horse was still at the Stad on the Eden. The horse we found was the biggest which Ketil owned but Haraldr’s feet almost trailed along the ground. We left early the morning after the battle. Smoke still rose from the pyre of the dead Saxons. Farmers would spread the ash on their fields and the enemy would feed our people. Wyrd .

  Ketil’s wound was to his leg. The healers had used fire to seal the wound. Wrapped in honey, vinegar and herbs I could see that it pained him as we rode north and east towards the island citadel that was Dunelm. With a river sweeping around three sides it needed no ditches. The Saxons had a church there made sacred by the one they called Cuthbert. Rædwulf would go there. It was in the heart of the land he controlled. It was a fortress the equal of Din Guardi. The rivers in this part of the world dominated the land. The Dunum, the river from which I had been taken, marked the northern edge of the land which Æthelred controlled. Dunelm was the stronghold he would choose.

  We would not make the journey in one day. It was sixty miles. We headed first for the home of Carr. He was a scout and knew the land east of us well. On the way to his home we found dead Saxons lying by the road. They had succumbed to their wounds and been abandoned. My men shook their heads and clutched their amulets as we passed them. They had not been given the warrior’s death by their comrades. They had been abandoned. We would not even contemplate such an action. We were shield brothers. Carr took us by ways which the Saxon army had not used. They, too, would take longer than one day to reach Dunelm. If the dead we had seen was a measure of the Saxons we pursued then we might even beat some of the stragglers back to the safety of their stronghold. They would travel by the Roman Roads. Carr’s route took us further north. It was a wild country. There were few people and it appeared to be one huge forest. It teemed with game. The paths he used were also used by the animals and we saw sign of wild pigs, deer and, inevitably, wolves.

  The high divide had to be crossed but here it was less desolate than further south. When the Romans had built their road, they had chosen the highest and most exposed route. I could see why. If Rædwulf had had men there we might have been easily ambushed. As it was the only people we saw were those who eked out a living close to the edges of the forest. We camped at an abandoned hut. It looked ancient. One of the wattle and daub walls remained and it afforded some shelter. Ther
e was a stream nearby which explained the position of the hut.

  Ketil asked the question that was on the minds of the others, “What will you say when you meet this would-be king? We do not have enough men to fight him.”

  I nodded towards the hessian sacks we had brought. “We killed most of his best warriors. I want him to know that they are all dead. I want his men to see that their leader abandoned them. I do not think they will try to attack us. Then I will demand reparations for their attack.”

  “Reparations?”

  “Ketil, we do not want the land of the Northumbrians. We are happy with the Land of the Wolf. Nor do we want to have to fight against these Saxons. They are like fleas on a dog. No matter how many you kill more will breed. I want him to pay us not to attack him. If he wishes to be king then he has to defeat or usurp Æthelred. He had thought to enlarge the land he controlled first. Now that he can no longer do that then he might be willing to accept a peace which allows him to gain the throne.”

  Haaken nodded, “And that is why you, Jarl Dragonheart, lead this clan. With due respect to your grandson, Ragnar, he would not have the mind to come up with such a plan.”

  “He is young and he will learn. When I was his age this would not have occurred to me. I would have brought the whole of my clan over to fight and defeat them rather than a warband. There are times to risk young men’s lives and times to use old men’s heads. This is a time for old men’s heads.”

  The next day was a harder one. The wounds and the riding were taking their toll. Ketil looked in pain and the Ulfheonar were no longer young men. However, we showed what we were made of as we joined the Roman road. We could see the citadel of Dunelm. Ahead of us, just a mile away was the last remnant of the army which had escaped us. The banners of the Saxons drooped and the fyrd who remained trudged wearily. There were at least ninety of them. There had been more who had fled. Some would have gone directly to their homes. Others would have died. I guessed that those who remained with Rædwulf lived north of Dunelm.