WARRIORS OF THE NORTH

by H A CULLEY

  It took a moment for the Anglian to realise what had happened; then he screeched in a mixture of rage and agony. He swung his axe again but Oswiu ducked under it, straightened his arm, and pushed his sword up under his ribs. The point lodged in his heart and a second later the big man crashed to the ground.

  His gesith cheered and he looked around for another adversary, but Peada had fled, taking what was left of his army with him. Some groups had been unable to extricate themselves and they fought on to the last man. Only a hundred or so, all of them from the fyrd, surrendered.

  ‘What’s the casualty list?’

  ‘For us, not too bad, Cyning,’ the Eorl of Dùn Èideann replied. ‘Under a hundred dead and eighty wounded. Of those fifty will either die of their wounds or are too maimed to fight again.’

  ‘And the Middle Anglians?’

  ‘Over four hundred dead. Two hundred more badly wounded and seventy prisoners.’

  ‘So Peada has lost half his army?’

  ‘So it would seem. There are still those out foraging and raiding but I don’t think we need to worry about them now.’

  Oswiu nodded. ‘We need to get on the road to Shrewsbury.’

  ‘The men are tired, Cyning. Can I suggest we delay until dawn tomorrow?’

  ‘Can we reach Shrewsbury in two days?’

  ‘It would mean a hard march and the men would be in no state to fight when we get there; better to allow three days.’

  ‘Hmmm, I promised my brother we would reach there by the seventh. I don’t suppose that one day will make much difference.’

  In fact, it was going to make all the difference in the world.

  ~~~

  Oswald rode forward with Eowa and three members of his gesith: Jarlath, Rònan and Beorhtwulf. Two had been his body slaves when they were boys and the third he’d known since he was sixteen. He knew they’d die for him. He was less certain about the warriors who accompanied Eowa. They seemed uncomfortable in his company and hadn’t spoken a word to his three so far. Despite the Mercian’s assurance that his men were loyal to him, Oswald wasn’t so sure.

  The scouts had reported that there was no army encamped at Shrewsbury. The settlement was surrounded on three sides by the broad River Severn and by a palisade on the fourth. As Penda obviously wasn’t there anymore, he decided not to waste time and men capturing the place, though it was a risk leaving it in Mercian hands as it would be across his lines of communication.

  The army took the road to the north of the settlement, where the Severn curved to the west, where there were the obvious signs left by a passing army.

  ‘Do you know where this road leads,’ Oswald asked Eowa.

  ‘A hamlet called Maserfield and then into Powys, if I remember correctly.’

  ‘Aye, Maserfield,’ one of the Mercian’s escort said with an unpleasant grin, and then spat into the dust.

  ‘Why would he go there?’ Oswald wondered, ignoring the man.

  ‘Once in Powys he can disappear into the mountains and we’ll never find him.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like your brother to me, does it to you?’

  ‘Perhaps he needs to gather more men to his side. The Welsh fight half-naked but they’re doughty warriors.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I fought Cadwallon.’

  ‘What do we do? Wait for your brother?’

  ‘Oswiu said he’d be here today but there’s no sign of him and no messenger even. He might be days yet.’

  ‘Or he might have lost the battle against Peada.’

  ‘I doubt it. My brother hasn’t lost a battle yet, and he had more men than the Middle Anglians. No, it’s just taking him longer than he thought.’

  ‘My brother has two thousand men, at most, and we have over three thousand. I say we attack him before he can escape,’ Eowa said.

  ‘Very well. I’ll send the scouts forward to see if they can find out exactly where Penda is.’

  ~~~

  Œthelwald arrived at Cantwareburg without any problems. He’d sailed into Ludenwic and then hired twenty horses for himself, an escort of fifteen and for use as packhorses before setting out for the capital of Kent.

  As soon as he saw it, he was impressed with the church. Originally a Roman church built some three hundred years previously, it had been repaired and extended by masons from Frankia and Rome. All the other Anglo-Saxon churches he’d seen had been built of solid timber or a timber frame filled with wattle and daub.

  He had been sent off to Iona as an unwilling pupil but, to his surprise, he had enjoyed the simple life of the monks and, when it came to leave when he was fourteen, he’d been sorry. However, he’d enjoyed training to be a warrior, but after that his life had been without purpose, for which he blamed his father.

  He had immediately liked Eorconberht and the archbishop, Honorius, and started to attend services in the church with the monks. This had impressed Eorconberht and his squally devout queen and after a while he obtained his assurance that he would continue his father’s policy of alliance with Northumbria and opposition to Penda.

  Œthelwald should have moved on at that stage to visit Anna of East Anglia but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Cantwareburg. He spent his time hunting and in theological discussions with Honorius and the monks.

  Cormac had accompanied him to Cantwareburg whilst Dunstan remained with the two birlinns and most of the crews at Ludenwic. Both men were getting worried at the passing of time and in early August Dunstan send a message to Cormac urging him to bring Œthelwald back to Ludenwic.

  Cormac had tried but failed to persuade Œthelwald to return to Ludenwic, but then a messenger arrived which made him all too eager to get back to Eoforwīc.

  ~~~

  ‘He’s occupying the old hill fort to the north of the settlement, Cyning,’ the scout told Oswald later that day.

  ‘How far from here?’

  ‘About seven miles or so,’

  ‘How many men?’ Eowa cut in.

  ‘It’s difficult to say. The old fort is circular in shape with several rings of earthen mounds protecting the top. As far as I could tell that’s flat but we couldn’t see over the top ramparts. There could be thousands inside.’

  ‘I suggest we camp three miles away and attack at dawn,’ Eowa said, turning to Oswald.

  ‘Yes, that makes sense, but I’d like to see this old fort for myself.’

  Once more he rode forward with Eowa and the same escorts as before. Oswald had learned that the name of the Mercian who’d spat in the dust when he confirmed the name of the settlement as Maserfield was Eadgar, the son of one of Eowa’s eorls called Leofric. However, in addition to the five warriors he took another fifty mounted men who remained concealed in edge of the woods half a mile from the fort, just in case they ran into trouble.

  The hill fort sat in the middle of open countryside so the only way they could get a closer look at it was to ride around it in the open. It consisted of four concentric rings of earthworks and had two entrances, each protected by a series of three gateways. As they rode around it out of range of the archers on the top, more and more warriors came to jeer at them until the topmost rampart was crammed with men.

  ‘How many do you think?’ Oswald asked Eowa.

  ‘At least two thousand, maybe more. Most are Mercians but I estimate that there are at least five hundred Welshmen up there as well, presumably from Powys.’

  ‘Yes, I agree. This is going to be a difficult place to attack.’

  ‘We need to get up to the top under cover of darkness, I think, then storm the place at dawn.’

  ‘Perhaps, but they are bound to hear us.’

  ‘Does that matter? If they decide to attack us at night the battle will take place on the approaches instead of at the top. We have more men and can use wedge formations to break through their lines.’

  ‘Very well. We’ll move into position under cover of darkness.’

  It wasn’t until just before dawn broke that Oswald found out that he’d been be
trayed. A messenger came looking for him as he waited in the midst of his warriors for the first rays of the sun to appear over the eastern horizon.

  ‘Oswald, where are you? Where’s the king?’

  ‘Over hear, quietly now. What is it?’

  ‘Eowa has been treacherously slain, some say by Eadgar. Eorl Leofric has led the Mercians back down the hill.’

  Oswald immediately knew what that meant. No doubt Leofric expected Penda to raise him to replace Eowa as a reward. How little he knew Penda, he thought with a chuckle. Then his mood grew sombre when he realised his own plight. He was now trapped with two thousand men between a thousand Mercians at the bottom of the hill and another two thousand at the top, together with who knew how many Welshmen.

  ‘Pass the word, we’re retreating to the bottom to attack Leofric.’

  As the sunshine slowly crept over the ground towards the base of the hill fort, shining off the helmets of the Mercians waiting below, black clouds began to scud across the sky, obscuring the sun and replacing the illuminated earth with dark shadows. Oswald had never seen anything like it. It was if Heaven had suddenly gone into mourning.

  As he reached the last of the four ramparts he yelled ‘charge’ and he and his men swept down the last slope and headed for the waiting Mercians. The momentum of the Northumbrians hurled the first row of the shield wall back into the second and they, in turn, were forced back into the third and final rank of warriors. Chaos ensued and the battle deteriorated into a series of individual fights. However, as the Northumbrians had the superior numbers there could only be one outcome and the Mercians started to die by the score.

  Just when Oswald thought he’d won he heard a roar behind him and saw Penda’s men running down from the final rampart.

  ‘Shield wall,’ he yelled but there was no time to form up before the enemy crashed into them. Oswald never knew but there were a thousand Welshmen with Penda and so now it was Oswald’s turn to be outnumbered. That, coupled with the casualties he’d already suffered and the momentum of the attack meant that his men had little hope of winning. He grabbed Rònan’s arm.

  ‘Sound the retreat, quickly now.’

  Rònan put the hunting horn to his lips and blew the short repeated blasts that told everyone to withdraw. At first the Northumbrians just stood there stunned.

  Then Oswald yelled, ‘get out of here, for the sake of Christ Our Saviour, run. Save yourselves to fight another day, and may God go with you.’

  They took one look at the Mercians and nearly naked Welshmen, who were now no more than two hundred yards away, and they fled. All but Oswald’s gesith and perhaps another two hundred of his war band, who were not about to desert their king, no matter what he said.

  By now rain had been falling heavily for a little while and the ground was becoming slippery underfoot. This worked in the Northumbrians favour as several of the enemy who were charging down the final slope slipped and fell, only to be trampled on by those behind them, some of whom also went sprawling. It was not enough to make any difference though.

  Oswald hefted his shield and with Rònan on one side of him and Jarlath on the other he waited for the oncoming tide. Suddenly he felt a piece of bread being pushed into his mouth as Oslac stood behind him and muttered the words ‘in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, this is my body, eat this in memory of me.’ He moved on down the line and then Penda’s army hit them.

  Oswald was forced back as a Mercian banged his shield into his and tried to stab his sword into his neck. Rònan got there first and thrust his spear into the man’s side just as another enemy warrior crashed into his own shield.

  Then Oswald saw Oslac standing in front of him holding his crucifix on high and cursing the Mercians in the name of Jesus Christ. Miraculously no-one cut the chanting priest down until Penda appeared and, with a laugh, swung his sword and chopped Oslac’s head from his body.

  ‘So much for the protection of your God, priest,’

  ‘No!’ Oswald cried as he saw his brother fall and, barging the warrior facing him aside, he charged forward determined to kill Penda. He never got there. The man he had knocked out of the way turned and thrust his spear into Oswald’s back. It broke the links of his chain mail but the blow didn’t have enough force to break through the padded leather jerkin underneath. It did, however, jar Oswald’s spine and two of his discs were dislodged. He was crippled and fell face down into the churned up mud.

  Penda went to pin him to the ground with his sword but Jarlath got there first, standing over Oswald to protect him. He was quickly joined by Rònan, Beorhtwulf and the few remaining members of the king’s gesith. By now most of those who had stayed behind with Oswald were dead, but they had succeeded in delaying the pursuit for long enough to give their comrades a reasonable chance of escaping.

  Two hours later the fleeing Northumbrians ran into Oswiu’s advance guard and, when the pursuing Mercians realised that they were now facing another army, they quickly lost their enthusiasm for the chase and started to run back to Maserfield.

  When they got there Penda decided not to face Oswiu, who probably had as many men as he had, and moreover were fresh, so he withdrew to the east for now. It was not an easy decision. He didn’t know if his son had survived; it was obvious that Oswiu had won though. For now he had to be satisfied with killing Oswald and one of his brothers, but the temptation to wipe out the whole brood was strong. He discounted Offa as a pitiful anchorite living on one of the small islets off Lindisfarne; he was no threat to anyone. Oswiu was quite different though.

  An hour later Oswiu surveyed the battlefield and wept. No more than five hundred Northumbrians had died, compared to three times that number of the enemy, including Leofric, Eadgar and the other turncoat Mercians, but it was the sight of his brother’s dismembered torso nailed to a crudely made cross that caused him to despair. Oslac’s headless corpse lay beneath his brother with his head a few feet away. There was no sign of Oswald’s head or limbs, presumably Penda had taken them away as grisly trophies of his pyrrhic victory. Nine members of his gesith, including Jarlath, Rònan and Beorhtwulf, lay around him; every single body riddled with arrows. Evidently Penda had decided not to waste more lives and had his archers kill them from a distance.

  He wondered what had happened to their supposed Mercian allies until one of his men came and told him that he’d found Eowa at the top of the hill. He’d been stabbed in the back and then had his throat cut. The last had been unnecessary. Practically no blood had run from his severed throat, indicating that his heart had already stopped.

  Oswiu’s men gathered the bodies of the Northumbrians together and buried them with due ceremony in a mass grave, but he left the Mercians and the Welsh where they lay for the crows and buzzards to feast on.

  Wrapping his brother’s bloody torso in a leather tent and sewing it closed, he loaded it onto a pack horse and, as he began the dismal journey back to Bebbanburg, Ceadda came to his side.

  ‘I know how deeply you are grieving for Oswald, but you should send some men to Legacæstir to bring Eowa’s son and nephew to Bernicia, unless you want Penda to kill them. And you need to get to Yeavering and call the Witan together to elect you as king.’

  ‘Why, what’s the urgency? They won’t know of my brother’s death yet.’

  ‘Word will spread quicker than a man can ride, believe me.’

  ‘Even so, I want to bury what’s left of Oswald first.’

  ‘I suspect that you won’t have time for that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because Œthelwald thinks he should be his father’s successor.’

  THE END OF WARRIORS OF THE NORTH

  TO BE CONTINUED IN

  BRETWALDA

  DUE OUT IN EARLY 2017

  Historical Note

  In the early seventh century AD Britain was divided into over twenty petty kingdoms. I have listed them here for the sake of completeness, though only a few of them feature significantly in the story. A few other
s get a passing mention. From north to south:

  Land of the Picts – Probably seven separate kingdoms in all in the far north and north-east of present day Scotland at this time. Later they became one kingdom.

  Dalriada – Western Scotland including Argyll and the Isles of the Hebrides. Also included part of Ulster in Ireland where the main tribe – the Scots – originated from.

  Goddodin – Lothian and Borders Regions of modern Scotland – then subservient to Bernicia and so was part of Northumbria.

  Bernicia – The north-east of England. Part of Northumbria.

  Strathclyde – South east Scotland.

  Rheged – Modern Cumbria and Lancashire in the north-west of England. A client kingdom of Northumbria.

  Deira – North, East and South Yorkshire

  Elmet – West Yorkshire

  Lindsey – Lincolnshire and Nottinghamshire

  Gwynedd – North Wales

  Mercia – Most of the English Midlands

  East Anglia – Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridgeshire

  Powys – Mid Wales

  Middle Anglia – Bedfordshire, Northamptonshire and Warwickshire

  Dyfed – South-west Wales

  Kingdom of the East Saxons – Essex

  Hwicce – South-east Wales, Herefordshire and Gloucestershire

  Kingdom of the Middle Saxons – Home counties to the north of London

  Wessex – Southern England between Dumnonia and the Kingdom of the South Saxons

  Kent – South-eastern England south of the River Thames

  Kingdom of the South Saxons – Sussex and Surrey

  Dumnonia – Devon and Cornwall in south-west England

  Little is known for certain about Oswald’s life in exile. Much more is known about his life once he became King of Northumbria in 634 AD at the age of thirty.

  Following the victory at Heavenfield, Oswald reunited Northumbria and re-established the pre-eminence of Bernicia in the North, which had declined under Edwin’s reign from 616 to 633. Bede says that Oswald held imperium for the eight years of his rule and was the most powerful king in Britain. In the 9th-century Anglo-Saxon Chronicle he is referred to as a Bretwalda. Adomnán describes Oswald as "ordained by God as Emperor of all Britain".