There were almost three hundred of us in that charge and we had cut a swathe through the heart of them. They were all brave and reckless but the bravest had been killed first. Some of the ones we now saw merely had wooden clubs or spears which had a sharpened, fire hardened tip. Count Striguil was leading us towards the High King himself. If we could capture him then King Diarmait Mac Murchada would have his kingdom back in one fell swoop. It was not to be. He turned and, along with his chiefs and kings, he galloped from the field. Those around him fled with him.
There was a wail and the whole of the Irish army turned to join the flight. We were still outnumbered but they had fled. We pursued them until our horses were weary. It was not only our horses. My blade had been blunted by bone and my arm ached from the repetitive action of slicing, chopping and hacking. Count Striguil’s horn sounded the recall and the pursuit ended. We stopped just half a mile from Wexford. The Irish had not gone there. They had fled north and west. I reined in Storm Bringer and Count Striguil led his weary horse towards me.
“I cannot believe it was so easy.”
I pointed my bloody sword at the town. “We should take that tomorrow, Count Striguil. There is no wall. We could take it now but our men are spread across the battle field. Better we rest and take it fresh.”
“Aye, I will let King Diarmait Mac Murchada have that honour.”
“You are becoming quite the thinker, Count Striguil.”
“I am thinking that we could take this whole island. Why do I need to be an earl when I could be a king?”
“Do not get ahead of yourself, Count Striguil. I agree that this land is ripe for the plucking but King Henry will not be happy if you rival him.”
“And you are his Earl Marshal, lord, I know that. I am just speculating. There is no harm in thoughts are there?”
As we rode back I wondered at his ambitions. He reminded me of other lords who had had some success and it had gone to their heads. I would have to watch him. Had we ridden straight away to Wexford then we might have taken it without a battle. We delayed. That was my fault but King Diarmait Mac Murchada had not been entirely open with us. He had not told us of the men who would defend Waterford, Wexford and Dublin. Our dead had been collected. Horses had been slain. I saw two knights angrily beating the dead body of an Irishman who had slain one of their horses. It was futile but I understood the value of their horses. A war horse could cost forty marks. The knights would have no treasure from this battlefield.
When we reached our camp, James took Storm Bringer for feed and to groom him. He had suffered no wounds. I would ride Warrior the next day. Padraig and Lame Tom appeared with water to wash and a beaker of ale. Tom was an old solider. He pointed to the dead, “That was not war, lord, that was slaughter. They are brave but by St Michael I have never seen such foolish men to attack with so little armour.”
Padraig said, “What I do not understand is why they did not use the warriors of Wexford and Waterford.”
“Are they different?”
He nodded, “Yes, lord. They are Vikings! They also live in Dyflin. They call Waterford, Veðrafjǫrðr. It is their town. They still raid from there.”
“And they are in Wexford too?”
“Aye lord, even more of them. They call it Veisafjǫrðr. They wear mail too and have good weapons.” He picked up one of the discarded Irish weapons which lay in the camp, having been collected by the servants. He showed me that it was bent.
“Thank you, Padraig.” I did not like the fact that he was a slave. “So tell me, Padraig, what do you say to fighting with us now that you have seen us?”
He shook his head, “I am Norse, lord and I know war but I have never seen beast and man combine as I did today. It was as though you were one beast.”
He was an intelligent boy. I saw that there was more to him than just being an interpreter. “Who owns you, Padraig?”
“The Bishop of Ferns.”
I now saw why the Pope had issued his papal bull. If the church owned slaves then it explained why he wanted the churches cleaning of corruption. “Come with me and we will speak with the King and the Earl.” I waved over de Clare who, like me, had washed the blood from his mail and drunk some beer.
“My lord we had best see the King.”
“Why?”
“He has been less than honest with us. We have an enemy who will give us a much harder battle than that which we fought this day.” I took Padraig not as a translator, King Diarmait Mac Murchada could speak our language well, but to ask for his freedom. The King could be heard long before we reached him. Bodyguards were using sticks to play a game with the skull of one of the enemies who had been killed in battle.
He roared when he saw us approach, “By the heavens above you and your beasties are a terrifying sight! The very ground trembled when they passed over it.”
I nodded, “King Diarmait Mac Murchada I understand that there will be greater tests for us in Wexford and Waterford.”
He frowned and glared at Padraig who quailed. The battered skull had ended up by the King’s feet and it had upset the youth. Perhaps he saw his skull being used in the same way.
“You mean the Vikings?”
“You know of them?”
“Of course, I do. That is why we did not attack either Wexford or Waterford. They do not bother us. They raid Munster, Wales, and Connaught. They did not join with the High King, did they? Leave well alone I say.”
I shook my head. “We need a port. We have to take one or both of them.”
He laughed, “Good luck then. We have made a fine start to retaking my kingdom. When that is mine I will see about evicting the Vikings.”
I looked at de Clare who shrugged. I would speak with him later. “There is another matter. Padraig here, I would have him freed.”
“He is not mine. He belongs to the Bishop of Ferns. Take it up with him.”
I smiled, “I will.” Turning to Padraig I said, “As of this moment you are a free man. Will you stay on as my servant and translate for me? I will pay you a stipend.”
“I will lord and gladly.”
“You cannot do that!”
I turned to the King, “The Pope says I can and besides you said he belongs to the Bishop. He can always argue his case with me. Come Count Striguil, we need to speak with Sir Raymond.”
Padraig said, “Thank you lord.”
“I was not lying, Padraig, the new Pope wishes slavery abolished.”
Count Striguil said, “The King of Leinster is not going to be happy about the way you spoke to him.”
“Remember Richard, I represent King Henry. Would he have done it any different?”
“No. What do we do about Wexford and Waterford?”
“We take one of them. We may have to take both. We need a port and we cannot have a large band of armed men loose in the land.”
Sir Raymond was keen to take on the Vikings. “There will be more treasure and plunder in the town than we can take on the battlefield. My knights are already complaining about the lack of gold.”
I cautioned them both, “These are Vikings. I have fought them before and I have Arne Arneson who is descended from Norse stock. If your men become angry when they lose their horses then do not fight Vikings. They use two handed axes and are quite happy to use them on horses. They are fond of horsemeat.”
Sir Raymond looked appalled, “Savages! Have they no honour?”
“It is a different honour to ours. However, first we will speak with them. If they agree to pay homage to the King of Leinster and allow us to use their port we may not have to fight. Padraig, can you speak their language?”
He nodded, “It is why the Bishop kept me, lord. I learn languages easily. My father was Norse and he took one of your people as a slave when he raided the west coast. I spoke with him until he was whipped too hard and died.”
“And how were you taken?”
“We lived on Man. There are still Norse there. The Irish raided us for slaves. My father was
slain.”
“The rest of your family?”
He shrugged, “We were separated at the slave market. I know not. I have almost forgotten what my mother and two sisters looked like.”
This was a sad story. And there had been a Norman child who had been enslaved and whipped to death. I thought about Samuel. Aiden had been a slave but we had soon freed him. I could not remember the last slave we had had. I liked to think that the serfs who worked our land were treated better than others. Certainly, they all seemed happy enough. I felt better about what we were doing. It seemed to me that we were bringing civilisation to the Irish. Perhaps we were doing it harshly but they would be better off for our protection.
The next morning, I assembled all the knights and we rode to Wexford. There was a wooden palisade which ran around the walls and a ditch. It would not stop us if we chose to attack. Their houses were unlike ours and were more like an upturned ship. They lived in larger groups than we did. We were seen from a distance and a large number of armoured warriors greeted us. I counted at least eighty and, unlike the Irish we had fought, all had a helmet, a shield and a substantial looking weapon. Many had a hauberk. They called them byrnies.
“Hold! What business do you have in Veisafjǫrðr?”
I noticed that he spoke our language. It sounded a little awkward but he knew who we were. Padraig’s services might not be needed. “I am the Earl Marshal of England. We are come to reclaim the throne of Leinster.”
He grinned and said something to the men behind. They laughed. Turning back to me he said, “I am Jarl Sigtrygg Haakenson. I rule here. This is not Leinster! This is Veisafjǫrðr. The Irish learned long ago not to annoy. I will be generous and not kill you on first sight. Begone horseman and do not bother us.”
“I am speaking pleasantly to you, Viking, but do not think to abuse us. We wish to use your town and your port.”
He laughed, “Hell will freeze over first.”
“Think carefully before you answer me again. We have three times your number here and more than that in our camp. Reconsider your words!”
In answer, he turned around and bared his backside at me. His men began laughing and banging their shields. I heard Sir Raymond draw his sword, “Sheathe it. They are words only and the actions of a child. We will return to our camp.” As we turned I said, “What did the jarl say to his men?”
“He said, if the High King couldn’t enforce his rule then…” he hesitated.
“What is it?”
“He used a word that I cannot translate for I do not know the meaning. He used the word that means a man who lies with horses.”
I laughed, “The Viking knows how to insult. We will return in the morning and end their rule here.”
James said, “Lord, I see one of their dragon ships. It is heading down the coast.”
I looked at Padraig for enlightenment. “I think they may be going for more men. Vikings are independent, lord, but they are all tied by blood. You will have to fight more than those we saw today.”
“I realised that. Those long houses we saw would house more men than came to taunt us.”
When we reached the camp, we discovered that King Diarmait Mac Murchada and his men had departed. Aelric said, “The King said as he had his kingdom back he would return to his capital, Ferns.” He looked at Count Striguil, “Your wife is with him lord.”
De Clare smiled, “Then she will be safe at the very least.”
As we dismounted I said, “I think the lack of men flocking to his banner has made him realise that he is only going to win by letting us fight.”
Sir Raymond was not happy, “You mean we do the fighting and the dying and he gets the rewards?”
De Clare was older and wiser, “The trick, Raymond, is to do the fighting and not die. Then we can be rewarded when we win. Tomorrow will be a sterner test for us.”
Chapter 12
Sir Raymond was all for a charge of heavy horse to break the Vikings. I waved over Arne Arneson. “Arne, tell his lordship how the Vikings will fight us tomorrow.”
He nodded, “They will make a shield wall which is three men deep. The shields will be before and above them. There will be no gaps. Our arrows will not penetrate it. They will have spears sticking out. Before them they may have stakes and they will wait for us. They are patient. They will stand. When we close their spears will seek weaknesses. After we are exhausted they will push forward and become an armoured killing beast. They will thrust and stab. They will use their shields as a weapon. They use their helmets, heads, hands and teeth as weapons. If you take a Viking’s sword he will use anything to kill you. If you think you have killed a Viking then kill him a second time, just to make certain.”
Sir Raymond said, “Their only tactic is to wait for us to hit them? They will not move?”
Arne laughed, “They can move my lord but they will choose not to. They know you cannot break their shield wall and they know that our horses will not be able to jump over them.”
Poor Sir Raymond looked deflated, “Then how do we beat them?”
I waved Arne away. He would go back to the men at arms and tell them of the look on Sir Raymond’s face. “We have superior numbers and we use them. We probe for weaknesses. This will not be a quick battle. We will fight on foot. I want relays of knights and men at arms to attack the shield wall. We will be able to rest between fighting. They will not. Their shields are twice as heavy as ours. They may be strong men but holding a shield above your head tires a man. When their spears are broken and blunted they will use swords and axes. They will be equally deadly. We can replenish our spears and sharpen our swords. They cannot.”
“That takes time.”
“My father was a housecarl who fought for Harold Godwinson. He was not at Hastings but I know others who were. Duke William charged the Saxon lines many times. It took hours for them to tire the housecarls. When they did then they used their archers. We conserve our archers until they are tired.”
“That does not sound glorious.”
I laughed, “If you expect war to be glorious then you are in for a disappointment.”
My personal disappointment was that the Vikings had been reinforced. As we returned the next day we saw the masts of three dragon ships. I had forgotten that the Vikings did not need to use horses to move for they had the fastest ships in the world. There were three more crews to fight and that could mean almost a hundred and fifty warriors. As we approached the Viking warriors marched from the town and arrayed themselves before it. There were more than three shiploads of them. Behind them I saw archers too. I knew, from Arne, that although a Viking bow was not as good as a Norman war bow their archery was good. I reined in half a mile from them. They were singing and banging their shields. I turned to Padraig, “What are they singing?”
“It is an old song of a warrior whom the old gods honoured by touching his sword with lightning and making it magical.” I raised an eyebrow. “I have heard the song before. When I lived with my father he did not sing it but he told me the story. It was said to have happened not far from my home.”
“Do you believe it?” Count Striguil sounded incredulous.
I looked at de Clare, “What matters, Richard, is that they believe it. The fact that they are supposed to be Christian and yet they sing of an old god should tell you how much they believe it.” I turned and saw the men at arms dismounting. “We will have to change our plans. Aelric!”
He galloped up, “Aye lord?”
“They have archers. Can you outrange them?”
“Of course.”
“Then either destroy them or make them take shelter in the town.”
He nodded and rode off to collect his men. I watched him speak to Roger of Bath and six men at arms rode with them. Sir Raymond said, “Why only six men at arms?”
“They need horse holders, lord.” James’ voice answered the question for me. Sir Raymond was getting a lesson on tactics from a squire.
“We cannot fight along the
whole line. It is too long. We will attack at the two ends where they are the weakest. I will attack the left flank and Count Striguil the right. When I withdraw, Sir Raymond will take over my attack and then we will relieve Count Striguil. That way we always have one third resting and sharpening weapons. Their best warriors will be in the centre. We will make them wait. Come we will get a little closer.” We rode towards the archers.
I saw that Aelric’s archers had dismounted and he had one of his archers send an arrow towards the rear of the Viking line. He would be using his weakest archer and testing the range. When he was satisfied I heard him shout, “Draw!” We stopped just a hundred paces from them. “Release!” The Vikings had heard the command and they sent their own arrows at the same time. Three of their arrows found flesh. More than half of Aelric’s struck Vikings. The three wounded were able to move back to the horses. I waved the priest forward to see to their wounds.
I dismounted, “Have our horses taken to the servants and the reserve men at arms.”
The second Viking flight only resulted in one arrow hitting one of our archers in the foot. It would not stop him releasing! Five flights later and the Viking archers withdrew. We had won that battle by superior numbers, weapons and the skills of my archers. Aelric and his men remounted and moved back to allow us to make our attack. The shield wall began singing their song again and banging their shields. More men came from the town. I saw that some were the archers who had fallen back. These had no mail but they all had a shield and they formed another two lines. They would be a reserve to fill in the gaps made by the fallen and to help push when we attacked. If we had had an onager it would have been a wonderful target but we had none. We would have to do it the hard way.
I took my spear and raised it. “First wall, with me!” I had the unattached knights with me. They were eager to fight alongside the Earl Marshal. Some hoped that I would bring their heroism to the notice of the King. They wanted advancement. We marched obliquely across their front, as Sir Raymond’s men were waiting in the middle. The Vikings would expect us all to attack at once. The waiting would unnerve them. When we were forty paces from them I raised my spear again and we formed a block of metal which was fifteen men wide and five men deep. I had knights in the front rank and my men at arms in the second. I began banging my shield with my spear. It was not for bravado. It was to get a rhythm for marching. When every man was banging I shouted, “Spear leg!” We began marching. After three paces, I stopped banging and lowered my spear.
Irish War (Anarchy Book 16) Page 17