Able only to carry light weapons in the small boats, and not as familiar with maritime warfare as were the Varangians, the Asiatic warriors fell back before concerted rushes of the giant blond warriors. The northerners stood shoulder to shoulder, carried small shields, and swung large swords and battle axes with extraordinary strength. If the Asiatic archers had the space to shoot effectively, the Varangians might have died to a man, but as it was, boat after boat of nomads lost their crews, and the corpses and overturned boats floated serenely towards their own river barrier. At last, several terse blasts on a horn recalled the nomad raiders, and the Viking vessels were once again free to move upriver unimpeded.
As the rowers returned to their duties, the women appeared on deck to bind the wounded and help throw enemy dead overboard. Phillip and Polonius watched in considerable surprise as Ambrose himself crawled under the sheltering decking where some of the wounded women lay. Not having seen his captive, Kuralla, emerge, he crawled over children and through blood to check on her safety.
Ambrose found Kuralla safe, and gently helped her back to the open deck. Yet while Ambrose was considerate and helpful, Kuralla responded coldly; obeying his will but allowing no warmth to creep into her words or actions.
Ambrose wanted once again to apologize for what he had done to the girl, as he had wanted to a thousand times, yet he just could not speak the words. Finally he just turned away. Kuralla walked to the other side of the deck. Ambrose's eye briefly caught her profile as she moved between him and the sun. She looked to him like one of the angels he had been told about by the good Abbott, his religious tutor. As a child, he had often attempted to visualize an angel. Today, for the first time, he felt he knew what they must have looked like back when they had walked on earth. Kuralla seemed impervious to his longing gaze, however.
Eventually she moved across to Polonius, sat, and engaged him in animated conversation. For the first time in his life, Ambrose felt a pang of jealousy. He watched the womanly figure glide across the deck with a sense of bitter loss. That night he had been drunk, and he had listened to the urgent demands of his young body. While Kuralla still chose to follow him, he felt in his heart that in reality he had lost her. He wondered if wearing a hair-shirt as penance would be any less painful.
Ambrose was impressed with the cool efficiency of the Rus women, who, although racked by grief at the death or mangling of a loved one, yet moved purposely and effectively at their duties.
On either side of the river, shouting great oaths and imprecations, rode a cloud of the nomad riders. Worsted in the battle, they yet blocked the river to the south, and they spoiled for a fight on level ground, where they knew themselves to be the unsurpassed masters.
CHAPTER 23.
The Island.
Though they had to fight the current all the way, an hour's hard rowing brought the fleet to a small wooded island in the middle of the river. Here, on the instructions of Askold and Dir, the battered fleet halted. Orders went out that they would stay the night, allowing the women to more carefully attend to the injured, and the men to repair what damage they could.
With three ships manned only by bachelor warriors set to coursing around the island, the rest of the fleet was beached or moored. All other crews and passengers went ashore to rest.
Polonius, with his considerable medical skills, went to help bind up arrow and sword wounds. Ambrose and Phillip were set to work collecting arrows and attempting to patch the holes in the vessels caused by the catapults.
When all the dead and mortally wounded were finally taken ashore, the Varangians discovered that the number of dead or wounded constituted almost an entire ship's crew. There was a great outpouring of grief and mourning for the many casualties.
Askold ordered that in the morning the smallest karve would be beached, stripped of any useful cargo, and made ready for a funeral pyre; a custom generally reserved for powerful chiefs. The ship would be burned with the bodies of the dead warriors lying aboard in state. The women of the slain were at least proud that their men would be given such a signal honour.
By dusk the wounded had all been treated, and the travellers settled in for desperately needed sleep. However, to insure no surprise, all able bodied men were broken into four shifts, and, at all times, the three vessels continued to move silently through the dark waters surrounding the island.
The rest, crew and passengers, slept with their armour on and their weapons at hand. Although Dir and Askold were reasonably sure that the barbarians would not be so foolish as to try another contest on the water, yet the joint commanders wanted to be sure that there would be no more surprises.
A few campfires on the mainland indicated that the enemy scouts were still in position, and the only question was in what numbers. Early the next morning, Askold and Dir called an assembly of the warriors, as was the custom, for the men were free warriors who had a say in their own fate. Willing to obey without question in time of mortal danger, yet the Varangians expected to have full say in any longer-term arrangements.
The morning was spent in much wrangling. Several warriors wanted to take their families and return to Smolensk. There, they argued, they would be secure behind strong walls and could simply wait for the enemy hordes to move on, or until superior Khazar forces moved north and defeated them. Dir, a veteran of several trips south to the Black Sea, explained what he knew of the raiders.
"As you know, the Khazars hold the lands of the Volga and the Don Rivers in a firm grip. They hold the mouth of the Dnieper too, but north of that, their hold becomes tenuous, and only the agricultural Slavs pay them tribute. The Magyars have long raided the more northerly portions of the river, but do not try to control it. It has been reported to our southern traders, however, that the Khazars and the Ghuz, far to the east, have formed an alliance and are slowly driving the Pechenegs, a Turkish tribe near the Volga, to the west.
Because of the large size of the horde which attacked us, I would guess that these attackers might be part of the mass movement of this tribe. They have been seen more and more often in the vicinity of the Dnieper, though generally south of Kiev. I think then, that this could be our enemy."
Consternation was the reaction to Dir's speech. To fight a fast-moving raider band of Magyars was one thing, but an entire nation that might be settling between them and the Black Sea was quite another. Against the slightly more than eight hundred warriors the fleet could muster, they could face as many as 20,000 or even 30,000 horsemen; each and every one of them well armed and mounted.
Dir stood in the Place-of-Honour at the front of the assembly. Warriors willingly quieted when it was obvious that he wanted to speak.
"Warriors! Before you vote on the direction our expedition is to take, I wish to make two points.'
He paused dramatically, and the crowd became silent. 'First of all, I think it vital that whatever we choose, we do it together. Split into two weaker forces, we both become terribly vulnerable. Some of you are here to settle in Kiev, and others amongst you have agreed only to stay there for a few days. But if you turn around now, you will nave neither the opportunity to settle in Kiev, nor to trade with the Byzantines. I will accept the majority decision, but I ask that whatever we decide, we all stay together.
Second, I would like to remind you all that between us and Smolensk are many sandbanks and one set of rapids where our ships would be particularly vulnerable while we pulled the ships through the rapids or across the sandbars. Our women and children would be especially vulnerable there since it would be necessary to disembark them, along with most of the cargo.
The passage south has been difficult enough, even with the high spring waters and the current in our favour. At any of these locations the mounted bowmen could wreak havoc with their lightning attacks and their clouds of arrows. Worse, our warriors, even if we could abandon the vessels that need to be pulled along the shore in order to fight, would be unable to mass in large numbers without abandoning either cargo or some of the ships.
At best we would be limited to a series of small defensive rings, while the enemy could call in more and more units of their horde; until a veritable avalanche of manpower would eventually overwhelm us. Better that we fight from the ships,' yelled Askold, 'where the superiority clearly lies with us!"
It was at this point that Polonius, a guest at the assembly, put forth the plan that Ambrose, Phillip and he had discussed the night before. "Jarls and warriors, if we cannot retreat without greater risk then go forward, it only remains to think of the most effective means of advancing. It came to us last night that the nomad's most revered possession is his horse, as it allows him to cross both plains and deserts, and to keep his flocks moving to fresh pastures.
It would seem appropriate then, to send a detachment of our best foresters to attempt to stampede their herd. They will not be expecting us to attack their horses, as they are of no use to us. If we can stampede them, however, we can at least distract them and buy ourselves time to break through their blockade. It is my understanding that a nomad without his horse is as helpless as a man with his breeches about his ankles."
A burly Varangian yelled out from across the assembly of warriors. "Whoa, little Greek. Just how do you intend to accomplish this stampede when they will have many alert sentries around the herds? The horses are not likely to be upset by a few yelling strangers. These are horses trained for war, and the steppe people train their horses not to fear sudden movement or noise. Further . . ."
"You asked a good question, my friend, and I will answer.' Polonius responded, 'Have you ever waved the hide of a lion, bear, or even wolf in the face of a horse or a cow? They know intuitively the smell of their mortal enemies, and will defend themselves in the way they know best - by running in the opposite direction!
It is true that a few of us alone could not precipitate a stampede, but if a large number of these animals, or at least their skins, taken from your very beds, cannot, then I would be very surprised. Further, while a band of us makes this attack, some of our dugouts could float down-river silently, under cover of dark and using only the current. If we reach the raft-boom and cut it before they can man it with archers, then we have won! The women, manning the oars only at the last moment, could bring our fleet down-river and pass through the break in the boom that we will have made."
"Can our women row our ships?" Shouted one stocky man.
"Hold!' shouted Askold. 'It is an interesting plan, and may be the best chance we have. Let us put it to the vote. First of all, would those who wish to go south to Kiev raise their hand?"
The number of hands raised constituted a large majority, and Askold smiled. He spoke again.
"Then let the commanders meet with Polonius now, and we will present the complete plan to you tomorrow morning for you to vote on. Is this agreeable to all here? . . . Good. Then return to your shelters and prepare your dead for the funeral."
The smallest vessel, badly battered, was pulled from the water by the combined strength of over one hundred warriors. It was propped on both sides with logs so that it would remain upright on the sandy beach. As dusk descended, the last few casualties were loaded aboard the funeral ship. Time was of the essence if the nomad raiders were not to be allowed to move up both boats and their main force. Their arrival would allow the enemy to consider attacking the island in full battle strength.
Askold, in his capacity of high priest, decreed that the customary ten days of mourning would be waived. He told the mourners that he thought that the fleet would have to leave its island haven before the sun rose more than one more time.
The women were unable to spend adequate time making the customary clothes for the Journey of the Dead, but each family donated finery to allow the corpses to travel in appropriate magnificence. Two slave women volunteered to serve the warriors on their last journey. They were given unlimited access to the supplies of mead.
The men collected armloads of dry wood and built a pyre for the entire ship and its cargo. The women, meantime, loaded the vessel with some of their precious foodstuffs. Two valuable dogs were butchered and loaded onto the ship. Finally, an old woman was chosen to be the 'Angel of Death'.
As the sun rose, the old woman climbed aboard the ship. The warriors beat their shields with their swords, making a mighty din. The screams of the volunteer slave women were cut off by a tightening garrotte and hidden by the thundering noise. Ambrose, when he saw the slave women being helped aboard earlier, realized that they were so stupefied from the alcohol that they probably knew little of what happened to them.
The old woman soon appeared from under the canopy raised on deck with a bloody knife in her hand. The thundering stopped as if it had never been. The crowd waited silently until she reached the ground.
At last all was in readiness. Even as the sun, now a disk of blood red, eased its way into the sky, Askold stood alone in front of the gathered throng. His voice thundered through the now silent crowd.
"It is a sad time when we say goodbye to our beloved comrades. We pray, Odin, that you were watching the nine worlds with your good eye when our warriors fought and died so bravely. Send the Valkyries to escort our slain companions to your hall of Valhalla. We know them to be worthy of Asgard. Take them, o' mighty Odin! We celebrate that they may fight and carouse until Ragnarok!"
As he spoke, Askold slowly raised his arms over his head, until his hands pointed to the sky. Ambrose felt a shiver and unobtrusively crossed himself. He listened in awe as the pagan gods were invoked. He knew that, in the distant past, his own people had invoked the same gods, and he felt the power of their presence. Without thinking, he touched the birth mark on his chest that his mother had told him was a mark of much older, Celtic gods.
At last Askold was through with the speech. The Jarl signalled a group of warriors, kin of the slain, to step forward. The men first stepped out of the crowd, and then stripped naked where they stood. Grimly, one at a time, they stepped forward to receive a flaming brand from Dir. At Askold's final signal, they stepped forward as one and lit the brush piled under the ship.
One by one, the widows and the rest of the warriors followed them. Each threw a piece of wood onto the rapidly growing fire. Thus, each paid tribute to the precious cargo of bodies whose souls were soon to be on their way to Valhalla.
The flames hungrily climbed the sides of the ship until they leapt far into the sky. Askold, standing on the edge of the beach, turned to the assembled throng and shouted out to them.
"Be merry, my companions! Our comrades died bravely and in the manner most blessed by the gods. Go now, and continue the feasting!"
When the fire died down, Dir and Askold called the warriors to the promised assembly. After reviewing and revising Polonius' original plan, it was passed unanimously, but on the understanding that the rest of the day would be spent training the women in the basic rudiments of controlling the wooden steeds. In the meantime, a picked detachment of warriors, used to running and adept in the ways of the forest, would be formed to make the raid upon the herd that would be grazing somewhere near the raft-barrier.
Although the woods alternated with small tracts of more open land, yet it was anticipated that the forest cover should provide adequate protection from the spying eyes of the scouts and the herd sentries.
CHAPTER 24.
Attack!
For most of the day, the women rowed the graceful vessels around and around the island. The instructors' throats were hoarse from yelling at them to stroke in time with the drum beat, but towards evening the women, whose hands were now raw from contact with the pine oars, were able to at least row in time, and even move the vessels upriver against the strongest current.
Meantime Ambrose and Phillip, who were to go with the horse-raiders, assembled such furs of bear, wolf, and lion as they could. Before dusk came, the karves and dugouts were loaded in full view of the Pecheneg scouts on the shore. Then all the fleet, except for the chosen foresters who were hiding in the island's undergrowth,
began to make their way upriver towards Smolensk.
Although the Varangians could not understand what was shouted on shore, the orders shouted to riders were audible, and a troop of horsemen galloped south, presumably to gather forces and move them upriver to the rapids. Ambrose and the rest of the small band watched in some satisfaction from their hiding place on the island.
The Varangian group waited until full dark before uncovering their small boats, sliding them into the water and rowing for shore. They pulled hard, knowing that their time was limited. Within a short time the dugouts and small boats of the warriors attacking the log boom would be drifting back down-river, past their location.
Not far behind the dugouts would come the main fleet; the larger dugouts and the karves manned by the women and the warriors not chosen for the other two forays. Ambrose had felt strange when Polonius had been assigned to help the women sail the vessels.
Luck was with the Varangians, for the slender crescent of the moon was not to rise for several more hours. Thus, only the faintest light of the stars exposed their movements.
Once ashore, the small band of foresters, carrying the heavy pelts of predators, slipped into the woods. From here on they should be safe, except when forced to cross one of the clearings. They started south at a distance-eating trot; towards where they hoped to find the Pecheneg horse herds.
While passing near the abandoned camp of the nomad scouts across from their island, Ambrose's group realized that the first of the ruses had worked. The scouts' nomad camp was abandoned. The raiders had either attempted to follow the ships northwards, or raced south to join the main camp and presumably arrange with their khan to send a strong force north with the dawn.
Within two hours the foresters had located both the horse herd and the main encampment. Luck and following the shoreline had brought them directly to the herds. Their scouts had found the animals in a small valley hard by the camp. Only a small herd of hobbled horses, kept in camp in case of emergency, were not in a position to be driven off.
Ambrose, Prince of Wessex; Trader of Kiev. Page 19