Housecarl

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Housecarl Page 22

by Griff Hosker


  The few archers and the slingers hurled their missiles thinning out the wedge. I could see that they were not the best warriors for it took time to fill the ranks of the dead. When they struck Morcar’s line it took barely a step back before it began to move forwards. As son as Morcar’s men began to move forwards the warband crumbled and began to edge back towards the swamp. I could hear the roar of victory as Morcar and his men pushed the defeated and demoralised warriors into the swamp where they became easy prey for Morcar’s men and they were soon despatched.

  Hadrada had seen his first attack fail and he launched another with two larger warbands. They headed for the gap which had now opened up between Scarborough’s men and Morcar’s. Morcar and his men were too exultant pursuing the fleeing warriors to notice their predicament. As they closed I saw that these were better armed; these had axes and mail shirts. They marched purposefully and they banged their shields. These were hardened warriors; these were like the Housecarls. One band veered right to strike at Morcar’s men on their flank and in their rear whilst the other headed towards the remnants of Morcar’s right side and Scarborough’s men. This was where my uncle would have been able to see the whole picture and move troops around. Our leaders were stuck on the flanks, fighting their own battles.

  “Angle left!” My voice pierced the sounds of battle and the men of Topcliffe and Coxold, well trained as they were, performed the action instantly. The others were slower but they fell in line and we had a solid shield wall which was now at a slight angle to the rest of our line. “Rear rank brace!!

  Their wedge could not keep a tight formation because of the muddy ground and some men slipped. They hit the Thegn of Scarborough’s line but the line only went back two steps and then the other warriors pushed forwards. Ridley and his well trained men at arms began to push against the side of the shield wall and slowly overcame it. I then saw, to my horror that our enemies had launched the rest of their men against Edwin, Earl of Mercia. Had I been on top of the hill I would have done the same for I would have seen the fyrd and lightly armoured spearmen to the fore. The warriors now trudged towards them, relentlessly banging their shields they were the elite; these were Hadrada’s own men, paid for from his booty. “Topcliffe angle right!” My men and Lord Skipton’s all turned to face this new threat. It meant that we had an arrow shaped line and Ridley and me were its point. Ironically no-one was attacking us- for the moment. “Branton, get your archers and slingers to thin them out.”

  Branton’s men rained flight after flight on the mailed and armoured axe men who thundered towards the spears and fyrd of Mercia. As well as the arrows the stones from the boys peppered them and soon they were edging even further left, towards the river. Had Edwin had his armoured men in the front rank we might have been able to push them in the river where they would have drowned in their heavy mail but we were unable to do anything until Morcar defeated his foes. So far neither Boar Splitter nor Death Bringer had drawn blood and it seemed that they never would when Morcar’s men broke and ran into the swamp, much as they had driven the first warband there. The Norwegians pursued them to continue their slaughter. The second warband now turned all their attention to the fragment of Morcar’s men and those of the middle.

  “Skipton, watch those near the Earl. Branton , continue to thin them. Topcliffe, angle left.” Our only hope was that we could break this warband and then turn to support Edwin, if he survived.

  Osbert and Aedgart were to my left and right. This was my first battle without Ridley and Wolf at my side but I was confident in my sergeants. I began banging my shield with my spear and my line took it up. I could see the rear ranks of Ridley’s men moving back slightly as more warriors turned from the pursuit of Morcar to attack the centre. “Run!”

  We hit the Norwegian line at an oblique angle. They had been so preoccupied with the left that they had ignored us. Their left side was unshielded and our spears found no obstacles. I had taught my spearmen to aim for the vulnerable part under the arm and they did so. The men before us died and fell to a man and we were on to the next line. I had withdrawn Boar Splitter from the first victim and he continued to slice into unguarded flesh. Eventually I heard an order barked out in an unintelligible language and the Norwegians slowly turned to face us. The ease of our victory had given us confidence which meant that my men were not worried about the mailed warriors who faced us.

  I yelled , “Fyrd! Push!” And I felt the reassuring pressure from the shields behind me. Because we had approached as one and the Norwegians had turned from their battle we had the advantage. I sought out the fiercest warrior who faced us. A mighty warrior wielding an axe. Most men feared advancing against the axe but I used one and knew its weakness. There were no others slicing in unison and, as the axe head slipped down I thrust Boar Splitter at his unguarded neck. With a surprised look he dropped his axe and fell to the floor. I stepped into the breach and I was now the point of a small wedge. The next warrior had a sword and a shield. I could see from his face that he anticipated defeating me. His grinning face seemed to mock me. As I pulled back my spear I punched with my shield. He had covered his face with his own shield to protect himself and did not see the blow which struck his hand and knocked him to the ground. As I stamped down on his face I heard his scream as the warrior behind me speared him. It was then close in work. The Norwegians were brave enough but we had had a cohesive shield wall at the start and we had maintained it. I know not how long we fought but I knew that I had never fought as long before.

  And suddenly there was no-one before me. As the wounded were despatched I quickly looked around. Morcar and his men were fleeing north to Jorvik pursued by exultant Norwegians. I spun around and saw, to my relief that the Thegn of Skipton was still there but of Edwin there was no sign. Branton pointed North. “They have all fled my lord and are heading for Jorvik.”

  I looked and could see that the bulk of the Norwegian army, led by Hadrada and Tostig were racing after Edwin’s horsemen. On the ground close to the river lay the fyrd who had been sacrificed to allow the horse to escape. There were four lords left on the field, which was littered with bodies, the remains of their commands and the few men of Morcar who had sought protection from us. In all we numbered less than two hundred. Thankfully I could see Scarborough, Skipton, Ridley, Osbert and Aedgart. We had survived.

  “Branton, throw your archers out ahead and see if there are any men there. Make sure the road south is clear.”

  The Thegn of Scarborough looked at me as though I had lost my mind.“But Jorvik and the Earl are North!”

  “And so are nearly ten thousand Norwegians. South there should be none and within a week King Harold or Aethelward of Medelai should be coming up that road.” I raised my voice, “Any who wish to go north be my guest but I go south. I do not relish fighting my way through that horde and then be trapped behind stone walls.” I saw Osbert grin as no-one moved. “Aedgart, get the fyrd to take any weapons and armour they can but be quick. Osbert get the wounded together.”

  He looked at me and I knew what he was asking, “And those too wounded?”

  “A sword in the hand and I will send them to their god.”

  Osbert shook his head, “No my lord. I am the sergeant at arms, it is my job.” Osbert left to perform the grisly but necessary task of dispatching those too wounded. Skipton and Scarborough came to my side with Ridley.”Where to my lord?”

  ”Down to Naeburn where we have some horses then we will find somewhere to hole up whilst we decide our next move.” Out in the marches and by the river we could hear distant screams in the dying September sun as the Norwegians massacred the fyrd who had not made the walls of Jorvik. The army of the north was no more and if Duke William came now then England would be part of Normandy.

  One of Branton’s men ran up. “My lord, no one ahead of us. The trail to the leat is clear.”

  Right men let’s move. Aedgart, bring up the rear. Archers pick up any arrows as we go.” Had any Norwegians been lying in w
ait for us then we would have all died where we stood for we were exhausted, thirsty and hungry. God was smiling on us that day for we made it to the trees unharmed and unseen. We put the wounded on the horses after Branton and two of his archers had taken three horses to find us a camp for the night.

  We headed down the road towards the river. We were of course on the wrong side of the river for safety as Ridley pointed out to me. “If we get to the river what then? There are no bridges south of the city.”

  “True but we can see what mischief we can cause the Norwegians. They think that we are defeated and holed up in the city. They do not know that we have escaped. We know this land and they do not.”

  The Thegn of Skipton asked, “And the wounded, the fyrd?”

  “You are right. They cannot stay for it would not be fair. We will make a raft and ferry them across the river. They can make their own way home for they will be on the other side of the river. We will send two riders down to Harold to apprise him of the disaster and then we can gather our strength and then begin the fight back.”

  “Is it not over?”

  I looked at the Thegn of Scarborough. “It will be over when our bleached bones lie on the soil and we become part of the land for which we fight. Norwegians do not take prisoners. Would you allow Earl Tostig to be a tyrant once more? Besides my friend the Normans are coming. This is not the end, this is the start of a war and the lucky ones are the ones who are dead already.”

  Chapter 13

  Stamford Bridge

  September 1066

  Although we found that we were fewer in number than the guards Hadrada had left, we were all warriors and most of us were mounted. Skipton had sent some of his men at arms back as escorts for the fyrd and wounded for he had the most casualties. Ridley and I had lost but three men each and we loaned their horses to the lords and their sergeants. Branton had found the fleet and, to our delight found that it was only guarded by a few warriors.

  “He has most of his men with him. If we attack the guards then he will have to send men down to protect the boats and there will be fewer left to besiege Jorvik.” I knew that the fewer men around the walls , the less chance the Norwegians would have to capture it.

  We left the horses on a bluff and crept down at dawn to the boats. Each boat had four men guarding it. We counted the ships and saw that there were three hundred. Although we would be outnumbered if they all attacked us by attacking boat by boat we could do much damage before they could gather their numbers.

  Branton and his archers had collected arrows from the battlefield and were well stocked. We used their skills to kill the sentries on the first five boats before the alarm was raised. It was not combat, it was a massacre, as sleepy warriors without armour staggered ashore to fight us. We hacked holes in the planks of the ships, which had been dragged to the shore, with our axes. The damage we inflicted was repairable but it would take time and in many ways it was petty; we might not be able to bring them to battle but we could annoy them and hurt them. When we saw a hundred armed warriors running down to fight us I led my men back to the horses and we rode away, their jeers and catcalls ringing in our ears. This was not honourable war, this was necessary war.

  We saw the fruits of our labours the next day when Eystein Orri arrived with over five hundred warriors. Hadrada had sent a sizeable force to protect his ships and they looked to be hardened warriors whose presence would be missed when the King came north. Our foray was over. That night our messengers returned from King Harold with two of the King’s retinue. “The King desires you to find out the whereabouts of the Norwegian army. We are here to act as messengers lord.”

  It was to the point! “Right lads, we head north!”

  We moved cautiously with Branton and his scouts ahead of us but the land was empty save for the carrion which feasted on the dead of Fulford. I had expected Norwegian patrols but there were none. As we approached the city walls Branton returned. “There is a thin line of warriors guarding the Mickelgate.”

  “Any sign of fighting?”

  He looked puzzled. “No. The sentries looked like they were there to stop anyone getting in rather than attacking.”

  I held a conference with the other lords and Osbert. “I had not expected this. We know that the Norwegians have not left and they have not taken the city what is he up to.”

  Osbert scratched his chin, a sure sign that he was thinking. “We need a prisoner or two.”

  “Can you do that?”

  He grinned evilly. “With Branton and Aedgart I could have the King’s crown and be back in Topcliffe before he knew it was missing.”

  “Go then but, Osbert?”

  “Yes my lord?”

  “Try to get one that speaks our language eh? It makes questioning a bit easier.”

  They took five men with them and, in the early hours of the morning they returned with three bleeding and bruised prisoners. Two of them were Norwegians but one I recognised. He had been a farm worker at Medelai. Ridley also recognised him. “Aidan!”

  “So my brothers are here?”

  “Yes and when they find that the Runt lives they will have you all for breakfast. “

  Aedgart’s blow was so hard that it made me wince. “Be polite! You don’t need your balls to answer questions.”

  “What is happening in the city?”

  He spat a gob of blood out and I am sure I saw a tooth amongst the mess. “The Earl of Mercia has surrendered the city and they are negotiating the terms.”

  Skipton could not contain himself. “The craven coward!” I could not blame him for many of his men had died ensuring that the Earl could escape to safety. We all valued our men and none of the four of us would have thrown lives away as needlessly as the Earl of Mercia did.

  I put my hand on his arm. “This is not the time for judgements.” Turning to Aidan I smiled. He had been one of the fellows of Edward and he had enjoyed taunting me but I knew his mind. I could see that he fancied that he had tied his horse to a wagon which promised success, money and power. He thought they had won. He did not know, as we did, that Harold was on his way north and the unruly, ill disciplined Norwegians would lose. “And if I wish to surrender to Earl Tostig will he be in the city?”

  More confident now he glared at Aedgart and snapped at me, “You can crawl to Stamford Bridge where the Earl and the King rest, preparing to slaughter your men , again.” The last insult was spat at me.

  I nodded, I had the information I required, and they were to the east of the city at Stamford Bridge. I smiled at him, “Thank you.” Turning to Aedgart I said coldly, “Kill them!”

  Aidan screamed his insults but they were in vain as the three of them had their throats slit and they fell dead at our feet. “You may return to the King and tell him Stamford Bridge. We will scout out a safe route to get there and meet you here.”

  We knew that the main army was at Stamford Bridge but were they on both sides? Branton reported a wood about a mile from the bridge and we went there to hide our horses. Leaving the bulk of the men to prepare a camp I went with the two brothers and Aedgart to spy out the bridge. Ridley wanted to come too. I took him to one side, “I need you here should aught happen to me. Skipton and Scarborough are good men but you are a leader. I trust you Ridley and I feel safer with you at my back.”

  Mollified he agreed and, after taking off our armour and helmets we took swords and daggers and set off towards the river. Night came earlier this late in September and soon made us difficult to see. As the chill set in I regretted not bringing my cloak but as we neared the bridge it was too late to do anything about that. Branton had sharp ears, he was the best scout we had and when he held his hand up we all stopped. As we waited in the dark we heard the voices which had been masked by our footfalls. Branton slid on to his belly and we all followed suit. I was the last man in the small line for I was the biggest and, if I am honest, the least effective amongst the four of us when it came to sneaking around. I might be the master of the shield wal
l but when it came to crawling around quietly, I was out of my depth. All that I could see was Aedgart’s arse rising and falling and I had to stifle a giggle; I knew not why. I could have stayed at the camp but I knew that it was important for the eyes of a strategos to evaluate their defences and not an archer who might miss some crucial detail.

  I saw Aedgart’s grinning white face turn to me and his hand gestured me forwards. Branton had cleared a space and I saw that we were slightly above the bridge and looking beyond it. The fact that the bridge was but thirty paces away told me that the bulk of their army had not camped on this side. That gave King Harold an immediate advantage. There were six men lounging on the bridge with beakers of something in their hands, I assumed that it was ale. I focussed on looking beyond the bridge. What I observed made my hopes rise. There was no organised camp and, most importantly, no defences on the eastern side of the river. The few camp fires told me that the men on this side would not halt Harold. They had no idea that the King was on his way and, as they had defeated the northern army, and the city had surrendered they had won and they could wait out those in the city. I saw the greedy fingers of Tostig all over this. He would have been happy for the city to surrender rather than have it assaulted and the booty taken by greedy Norwegians. This way it would be handed over formally, keys and all. Their defence was the river and that was all. From the camp fires I could see that they were spread out over a large area. Even allowing for the Norwegians who had returned to Riccall there had to be at least eight or nine thousand men in the camp, a sizeable force. I was worried that, after a forced march from London Harold and the army would be exhausted, not the best conditions in which to fight.

  Suddenly I realised that I could understand the guards on the bridge, they were Northumbrians. I looked down and began to listen to their conversation.

 

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