They were forty paces from us and I saw my archers’ arrows targeting the men at the rear who were climbing over dead Vikings. We would still have the same number to face but they would have less support. When they were twenty paces from us I shouted, “Brace!” I put my right foot behind me and felt James’ shield in my back. We would be pushed but it would be back and not off our feet. I placed the haft of the spear against my right foot and James slid his spear over my head and rested it on my shoulder.
The Vikings ran the last ten paces. They could not keep the same tight shape and I saw men in the second and third ranks disappear as our arrows hit them. Then they struck us. The warrior I was facing had a spear and he rammed it at my head. I bent my head forward slightly and the spear hit the reinforced strip on my helmet. My ears rang and my head was forced back but, as I looked up I saw that he had run into the spear head of James’ weapon. The press of men behind forced the spear into his skull. His body went limp. It was held there by the men behind. I was forced back a hand span but no more. Then I felt something hit my spear as a Viking hand tore the dead warrior from James’ spear. It slurped as it came out of his eye. Eye, brains and gore hung from it.
Freed I was able to pull my own spear back and ram it again, blindly into the mass of men before me. I saw a sword come down from above me. I lifted my shield and took the blow. I saw a Viking face and I pulled back my head to butt it. Something struck my spear but I could not see what then I felt a crack in my hand as someone sliced through the spear. I lifted the broke shaft and raised my head. I had hit the Viking in the mouth. His teeth were broken and bloody. He spat some at me and cursed. I plunged the broken end into the man’s open screaming mouth. I punched hard. He began to gag and choke. A spear came over my left shoulder and sliced across his neck. Dropping my broken spear, I was able to draw my sword as the man before me slipped to the ground. I saw that there was just one man behind him. We had hope.
“Hold them! Hold them!”
A spear was thrust at me and I felt it hit me in the right shoulder. It pierced the mail and stuck in my arm. I felt blood trickling down. A hand reached forward from behind me and pulled the spear away. I heard a Norse voice shout something and Padraig shouted, “Lord, they are coming for you and the standard!”
James shouted, “Close ranks around the Earl!”
I felt de Clare press closely to me on one side and Harry Lightfoot on the other. The Vikings filled the gaps behind the men facing me. There were three ranks again and they lurched at us. This time it was just a wall of shields with a few spears. They were trying to push us from our feet. With three ranks against our two they would succeed.
I felt us being pushed. I tried to recollect what was behind us. Just then I heard a horn sound and then a second. The pressure from the shields seemed to diminish slightly. “Push back!” I felt James’ shield in my back and I pushed off my right foot against the shield before me. It did not move but, then again, we were no longer going backwards. I could see little for there was a wall of shields before me and my helmet limited my peripheral vision but I heard to my right and left, the clash of metal on metal and the wail of men.
A voice shouted, “It is Le Gros! It is our men.”
I pushed my sword at the shields and hit wood. I moved it down until there was no resistance and I swung it. I hit something. It was a leg. Where there was a leg there was a foot. I moved the sword down and pushed hard. As I did so I leaned into the shield with all my weight. “Push!”
Suddenly my sword went through flesh and then struck the ground. Before me a man screamed before falling backwards. It was as though a dam had burst. Where there had been a dark wall of shields, the falling man had punched a hole in his own line. I lifted my sword and lunged at the mail byrnie before me. The Viking’s shield had been held above the man I had just wounded. My sword drove into the man’s chest and he fell backwards. I barely kept my feet as I stumbled over the wounded man. I heard a grunt as James ended his life and then we were in the open. I saw that we had breached their line. The Vikings were running for the gate.
Even as I blocked a blow from my right I saw arrows felling those who fled. The man who had struck at me had his life ended by Harry Lightfoot’s sword.
“Get the gates! Do not let them bar it!”
I saw Roger of Bath leading my men at arms to race through the gap we had created. I felt warm and sticky blood in my hand. I had forgotten about the wound. James saw it and shouted, “You are wounded! Padraig, fetch a healer. Arne Arneson come and protect the Earl.”
I shook my head, “I am fine!”
James shook his head, “What kind of squire would I be if I let you die of your wounds after such a victory.”
“Victory?”
“Aye lord. They have surrendered, look!”
I turned and looked at the gatehouse. My men stood on the top and were banging their shields. He was right. We had won.
Chapter 15
King Ascall mac Ragnaill meic Torcaill had escaped. Two drekar had managed to leave Dyflin when Raymond Le Gros and Sir Maurice had brought their men to our aid. We had slaughtered more than a hundred Vikings and many more were wounded. More than half of the wounded would die of their wounds and the other half would never be warriors again. It was the end of the Viking threat at least on the east coast. There were still Vikings in the far west but they would not threaten Leinster. I was told all of this for the priest who tended me would not let me leave my bed.
“The wound came close to the bone lord. I will need to cleanse and then stitch it. Count Striguil is in command and he will do all that is needed.”
James said, “He is right lord. We have had a great victory and done all that was needed. We can go home now.”
“Perhaps. We will see.”
By the time my wound had been attended to the town was completely in our hands. As I had been stitched and eaten food, the priest allowed me to walk into Dyflin. I was greeted by cheers and shouts from my men. I was flanked by my men at arms as we marched into the heart of this powerful Norse kingdom. Count Striguil and Raymond le Gros walked towards me. Both were still covered in our enemies’ blood but both appeared whole. They saw my right arm in a sling.
“You have an honourable wound, Earl Marshal.”
“It is nothing. I understand the king escaped.”
“He did but he only took two boatloads. We will make this a stronger place than he left it. I will have Sir Raymond begin a castle here. He will be my constable in this town. This is a good site for a castle. The harbour is a good one and it is the border to the kingdoms north of here.”
I nodded, “Soon it will be Christmas and war will cease. I think I will take my men home. We have done enough and fulfilled our promise to the King of Leinster.”
Count Striguil came closer and spoke quietly, “Earl Marshal the Irish do not stop war in the winter. Here the winters are wet rather than cold. I would you wait until we have the two castles defensible.”
I looked at Padraig, “Is it true about the winters?”
“Yes lord. If we get snow it is on the high peaks but it does rain. The roads become slithery tracks.”
“Then they cannot make war.”
Sir Raymond said, “Not true Earl Marshal. It is not war as we fight it but they come in the night to slit throats and steal livestock. Your men and your archers have proved to be the equal of many knights. I beg you stay until the Spring.”
I wanted to return home. I was desperate to see Ruth and Samuel but I had in me a sense of honour that would not allow me to think of myself if others needed me. I nodded, “Very well. Until the Spring.”
We spent a week in the port. During that time the wet weather of winter swept in from the west. Padraig told me that the winds from the south and west were the wet ones. He happily prophesied that we would have this weather for months. After we had helped Sir Raymond lay the groundwork for the castle, we left with most of the army to return to Ferns. Sir Maurice and his men stay
ed with Sir Raymond. The castle would be well garrisoned. Already we had repaired the burned section of wall but Sir Raymond intended to build in stone. We had the coin to send to England and buy good stone. We had found gold and silver in the hall of the king. He had fled so quickly that he had not had time to take it. I knew that Prince Domhnall Caemanach mac Murchada would be less than happy.
I let Count Striguil ride ahead of me. The glory would be his and we both knew that it would help made his position in the king’s household even stronger. As we headed back I spoke with Padraig about the Prince. “He has brothers lord. Conchobar is the next in line. He was not taken hostage and he and his father are close. If his father could choose an heir then it would be Conchobar.”
“And he cannot choose?”
“Oh yes lord. It is often done like that but here in Ireland it often results in murder. The High King’s brother was blinded by a rival brother when he was proposed as king.”
“And what of Count Striguil? How does he stand? He is married to the King’s daughter. Does that give him a claim to the throne?”
He looked thoughtful, “I believe so lord but I am not certain.”
James asked, “How do you know so much about this?”
“When I was the Bishop’s slave I was often present when these matters were discussed. I was a slave and I was like the table on which they placed their wine. I was not seen.”
James looked at me, “But Count Striguil is Norman. What would the effect be for him? Would King Henry be happy?”
“You are clever, James and you are right in your assumption. The King would not like a Norman ruling what he saw as a potential rival kingdom. Ireland is close to Chester and Carlisle. Besides Sir Richard has a claim to the Dukedom of Normandy. I do not think that he would choose to exercise that claim but King Henry will be aware of it.” We were just five miles from Ferns. “I will speak with Sir Richard when time allows. Now is not the time. The prospect of needing a new king is not even close. King Diarmait may not be a fighting warrior but he has some years ahead of him.”
The Count was accoladed as a hero for having driven the Vikings from the jewel that was Dyflin. The richest port in the whole of Hibernia, it gave money and power to whoever held it. When we arrived, I saw the Count’s wife and her father, along with Conchobar praising the Count. The exception to the praise and adulation was Prince Domhnall and his coterie of followers. They scowled, grumbled and mumbled. He would bear watching. I feared he might try to do the Count harm. I had no worries on a battle field but, until we had a castle built, then he was in danger for he would be sleeping in the King’s hall. I could not leave him; not just yet.
They had worked hard on the castle. You could now see its shape. The ditch and the foundations had been the first elements to be built. You could see the shape of the four towers and the gatehouse. The mason had worked well. Then again, he and his men were being well paid. The Vikings we had slain had been rich. We now had even more treasure coming thanks to the capture of Dyflin. They had laid the first course of the outer and inner walls. Men were using wheel barrows to infill them with smaller stones. Other men were building the treadmill crane for soon we would need it. We had the wagon, timber and rope we had taken from Dyflin. They would prove useful in the hauling of stones and the building of a second treadmill crane.
My men were unhappy about the prospect of staying in the Irish warrior hall. Roger of Bath asked if they could make a hall at the castle site. I was more than happy to agree. We had our own servants and the nearby woods teemed with game. Until Count Striguil was secure we would be there to protect his castle while avoiding any of the problems which arose by sharing a warrior hall.
Before we had taken Dyflin we had experienced them. Warriors who had no war to fight drank, gambled and whored. Those three activities invariably led to violence. One Leinsterman had been killed in a fight with one of Raymond Fitzgerald’s men. Now that Raymond Le Gros was constable at Dyflin there was no issue but the Irishmen carried on blood feuds. Being separate helped us avoid such problems.
My men were hard working and the first use of the wagon was to fetch freshly cut trees. They were adept at splitting them into planks. After digging eight post holes, the frame went up in one day. Stones were packed around the timbers and the smaller branches used to tie in the larger pieces of wood. The roof was made up of the shorter lengths of split wood. They would not be watertight but we had seen how the locals built and copied them. Instead of wattle and daub they used a technique used by the Vikings and adapted by the Irish. They cut turf. It worked not only for walls but also the roof. In three days we had our own hall. The floor was covered in rushes we collected from the river and we used the remains of the trees for tables and chairs. Once built we did not need to be in contact with the Leinstermen and their plots. Count Striguil, his knights and his men at arms were. We saw the effects when two of Count Striguil’s men were hanged for murder following a vicious fight in the warrior hall. As it was around the Christmas feast it was particularly unwelcome. We knew nothing of it, at the time, for we celebrated in our own hall with our own food. We had started to brew our own beer. The soft water made for a particularly pleasant tasting ale. We had even built a bread oven so that we could bake our own bread. The waste from the brewery gave that a distinctive taste too. I began to enjoy my life while planning for my return to England.
My wound healed and I took to riding the countryside with James, Padraig, Aelric and Harry Lightfoot. We hunted and we explored. We spoke, through Padraig, to the people. What I discovered surprised me. Since our arrival they had had more peace than they had known for some years. We had captured three towns and fought half a dozen battles! It told me much about this violent land. It was Theophany and we were heading back across a frosty land when I broached a subject which had been on my mind for some time. Padraig and James were riding next to me. Aelric and Harry led the two sumpters with the wild pig we had killed.
“Padraig, soon, probably in the next couple of months or so, I will be returning to England. I release you from my service and I will give you coin so that you can start a life anew. What I wish to know is where do you wish this life? Here or on Man?”
He was silent and when he spoke it was in a low earnest voice, “Lord, I would not leave your service. I know that you will not need me to translate and I am not a particularly useful warrior but I could watch your horses. I could help you dress. I could…”
I held up my hand, “Padraig, I am more than happy for you to continue in my service but know you that it means leaving your home and going to a strange land.”
He shook his head, “This is not my home, lord. This has unhappy memories for me. The Bishop was not a pleasant master. Some of his priests,” he shuddered, “I will put those memories from my head. Therein lies madness. As for Man. I am no Viking. I was taken too young. A Viking starts to become a warrior when he is seven summers old. He can fight with bow, sling, spear and sword by the time he has seen ten summers and by twelve summers he will be taking an oar and raiding. I would be mocked and I would find myself being a thrall if I returned hence. You, lord, are the only person who has treated me with kindness. I would serve you.”
“Then I accept your offer.”
From that day forth Padraig never stopped smiling! He and James got on well together and my men all had a soft spot for him. The castle grew. The lack of snow meant they could work even longer than in England and it was already as high as Padraig. My new servant also proved to be a useful source of information. It was he who told us that Conchobar, the King’s favourite son had gone missing. He had been at the King’s hall delivering a message from me to Count Striguil asking when I could return to England. He rushed back, “Lord Prince Conchobar has disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“He has not been seen for three days. There is a rumour that he has fled north to join the High King.”
“And whence do the rumours emanate?”
“Hi
s brother, Prince Domhnall.”
“Then I do not believe it. Fetch Aelric and my archers. James, come with me and we will speak with Count Striguil.”
We found the Count and his wife in the church on the opposite side of the cathedral. I could see that she was with child. “Earl Marshal! Why do you keep apart? My husband has told me great things about you and yet you and your men are like monks in your little hall by the new castle.”
“You should visit it, Count. It is almost as tall as me now and when the longer days come it will be defensible.”
“That is good. As you can see, I am going to be a father.”
“Excellent. Is your father pleased, Princess?”
“He was but since my brother disappeared…”
I nodded, “What do you think happened to him?”
They looked at each other. The Count said, “My wife fears that Prince Domhnall has something to do with it. Her father had been speaking about leaving his kingdom to Conchobar.”
Aoife put her hand on mine, “We have no proof, Earl Marshal and my brother,” She shook her head, “he is a very cruel man but I cannot think he hurt my little brother.”
I nodded, “I will take my men and look for him.”
“Where will you look? He could have gone anywhere.”
“Did he take a horse, or servants?”
“No, he went alone.”
“My men and I have been hunting in many of the woods around here for the past seven days. We have not seen any sign of him. Where we have not hunted is in the woods by the stream which leads to the Slaney River. We will try there. We can ride as far as Ballycarney. If he is not there…”
Irish War (Anarchy Book 16) Page 22