Housecarl

by Griff Hosker

  Before he could answer I heard Ridley say, “He can come with me and live at Coxold.” Ridley had indeed grown up. I glanced at him and he nodded. “If you wish to come, father?”

  It was the word ‘father’, I think which made the old man burst into tears. It took us all by surprise and being men we all looked away. Had Gytha or Sarah been there then they would have known what to do. “I would like that, Ridley, my son.”

  Later as we rode back to Topcliffe with Ridley and his father in a cart following, Aethelward turned to me. “You have grown nephew. That was well handled. I can see that my work here is done.”

  “You are leaving?”

  “Aye, my wounds are healed and I will leave by the end of the week. King Harold will need all the advisers he can get.”

  “But I thought we would not be needed before the spring.”

  “Whatever happens when Harold and William meet the loser will not go home. If William wins then Harold will continue to fight and will need me. If Harold wins then the Duke cannot go home so long as there is a chance to capture this precious jewel of ours.”

  “I will tell Gytha that…”

  He suddenly snapped, “You are not coming. Your wound would not enable you to fight. I do not need to fight, I am a strategos. You must build up your forces here so that when the King needs them you will be ready.”

  The storm abated and he smiled, I grinned back, “Yes my lord!”

  Gytha too was upset when she heard that Aethelward was leaving but we threw a feast for him and invited Ridley, Osbert and Branton to say goodbye. Branton had been out hunting with his archers and brought a multitude of fine animals. Sarah had brewed a particularly potent ale and cooked up the last of the fruit which had fallen to make a pudding which was laced with honey and mead. It was a fine feast, all the better for that fact that we enjoyed it in our own home with friends. Gytha’s face was a picture of happiness as she presided over her gaggle of warriors. Sarah fussed and fretted over her lady and the food while poor Thomas was rushed off his feet and ordered around by his wife. Had she been a man she would have been a Sweyn and we would all have feared him!

  Perhaps it was the joyousness of the night which made the interruption so dramatic. One of the sentries rushed in just as we had finished the pudding, “My lord I am sorry but there is a messenger from the king!”

  I waved away his apology, “Send him in Aidan.”

  I could see that Aethelward had suddenly sobered up and that the others looked puzzled. The rider who came in was muddied and bloodied. Aethelward recognised him immediately. “Aedgar of Coventry what news?”

  His face was filled with anguish as he said, “King Harold is dead with all his Housecarls and many lords. Duke William and his Normans have won.”

  “Sarah, get this man some food. Sit down, sir, before you fall.”

  The man did so. “I have ridden all the way from London with the news and I fear that my horse will go no further.” He greedily quaffed the ale and tore into the leg of the partridge. He told us the tale through his meal. “The king and his Housecarls were on the top of Senlac Hill, close by Hastings and the abbey. The Normans charged but could not even dint the shield wall and then the fyrd thought that the Normans were retreating and chased after them. They were slaughtered and then the Housecarls were surrounded. The King and his brothers died but the men refused to surrender and they died to a man.”

  Wolf, Osgar, Ulf and Sweyn and all our other comrades dead! I looked at Aethelward. “What do we do?”

  Aethelward waved the question away with an irritated flick of his wrist. “What of Ealdgyth and , Edgar the Aetheling?”

  “They are safe and they are heading for Jorvik. The Queen has two young babes with her.”

  I saw the sympathy in Gytha’s face. “Has a messenger also gone to Jorvik?”

  “Yes my lord. Those of us who were guarding the Queen were divided into guards for the Aetheling and messengers to spread the word north.”

  Aethelward looked at me. “I will need to visit the Earls tomorrow.” To Aedgar he asked, “Where is the royal party now?”

  He shrugged. “We rode hard but I would imagine that they would be at Lincoln.”

  “Aelfraed you will need to send Osbert and your men to protect the Queen.”

  “Of course.” There was something else in his face which made me wonder for he had looked at me differently. I knew him well enough to know that he would not speak in public and I waited until we were alone.

  He stood at the tower above the gate and looked south as though he could see the battle. I joined him. “All our friends…”

  “Yes Aelfraed but they died protecting their lord; they will be with him now in the halls of the heroes.” It was interesting that the veneer of Christianity was just that for warriors, a thin layer which disappeared once they died in battle. He looked at me. “It is what I dreaded. If only Morcar and Edwin had been better warriors then Harold could have stayed in the south and defeated William on the beaches.”

  Yes uncle but had you been here with them then they might have had advice which could have saved them.”

  “Yes Aelfraed but I thought they had you and you could have advised them.”

  I was shocked. “But I am young and they would not have listened to me anyway. I did try.”

  “I know and I am not blaming you but the King and I hoped that your strength and wisdom, young as you are would have been enough. I am now worried that our two young Earls will not listen to me either.”

  “Oh surely not! Everyone knows that you were the King’s right hand man.”

  “Aye and the king is dead.”

  “What of the Aetheling?”

  “He may be the son of Harold and a potential heir but he is still a boy. The two Earls will mould his destiny unless the Queen can use her influence with her brothers.”

  We stood in silence. My world had suddenly been turned upside down. I had met the Normans and they were a cruel race. The battle had been lost but there was a war to win. “Uncle, when the messenger gave his news you gave me a strange look. There is something you have yet to tell me is there not?”

  He looked very sad and very old as he put his arm around my shoulder and drew me to him. “There is my sister son. Your father died at Senlac Hill. Your real father not the snake who had your mother killed for laying with him.”

  Suddenly many things became clear; the way the Housecarls had accepted me, the ease with which I had joined them. “My father was a Housecarl?”

  “No Aelfraed, your father was Harold Godwinson, King of England.”

  The End

  Historical note

  In Anglo-Saxon times a man swore an oath on his testicles as in ‘to testify’. The assumption was, if you lied, you had your testicles removed. Certainly a compelling argument for speaking the truth! So when Aelfraed swears his loyalty, it is more serious and binding than we might believe an oath to be. Harold did indeed capture and ultimately kill the only King of the Welsh by sailing to North Wales and defeating him. Cynan Ap Iago did regain his father’s kingdom. I have no evidence that he resided at Gruffyd’s court but it seemed a reasonable idea. King Harold did marry Ealdgyth soon afterwards but the way it has been described in the book is fiction.

  The Archbishop of Canterbury was a Norman as were many of the senior churchmen but, as far as I know there was no attempt on his life but to the Saxons the Normans were the villains!

  The events at the Battle of Fulford were as described. The two Earls placed immovable barriers on their flanks and that cost them the battle. They allowed Hadrada to claim the high ground and he fed in his troops piecemeal. The ones who arrived on the field first were lighter armed and less experienced warriors and Morcar defeated them but pushed on too much. When the better warriors arrived they attacked the two Earls and both Earls fled to York. It is estimated that there were ten thousand warriors against the Earls’ six thousand. The two Earls retreated to York and were besieged by Hadrada. I do not k
now who commanded the centre but it appears that whoever did lasted a little longer than those on the flanks.

  One aspect of the two battles, Stamford Bridge and Fulford which has always puzzled me is how close in time they were to each other. According to the Chronicles they were but five days apart and as it took Harold that length of time to reach the north then he must have set out before the battle which is why I created the scenario of a messenger heading south as soon as the Norse are sighted.

  As far as I know no one harried the Norse fleet but Aelfraed, our hero was in the right place at the right time and it is the sort of thing he would have done. As for his promotion to be a Thegn; before the Normans came then manors were given and taken by the king and his earls whenever they saw fit. William carried on in the same way rewarding his knights with the land occupied by the dead Thegns.

  The battle of Stamford Bridge is also as described in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles. The army of Harold did indeed find the Norse sunning themselves by the river and those on the west bank were slaughtered. Between one and three Norse warriors held off the English killing forty warriors. Some accounts have them as berserkers and I took this as my model for it explained how they could continue to fight even though outnumbered and wounded. Their sacrifice enabled the Norse to form a shield wall even though few had had time to put on their armour. The King did apparently offer Tostig his earldom and the offer he made to Hadrada is, word for word, what the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles at the time reported. Tostig and Hadrada were surrounded and the Norse king killed with an arrow to the throat. How Tostig died we do not know. Eystein Orri did indeed run with his warriors all the way from Riccall- a heck of a feat! They were in full armour and many did indeed drop dead of exhaustion. Their charge was known as Orri’s storm. The survivors only needed 24 boats and they returned to Orkney. Hadrada was called the Last of the Vikings and this was the last time they posed a threat to the western world.

  After the battle Harold heard that William had landed and raced south but he had lost so many lords and warriors that the army which faced William was a shadow of its former self and as they had marched over four hundred miles in a short time, they were exhausted. Even so I still believe that had the fyrd not run then William would have been defeated for the Housecarls were a fearsome force.

  Aelfraed will return in Book Two of the series, Outlaw, in early 2013.

  Griff Hosker

  November 2012

  Outlaw

  Chapter 1

  November 1066 Topcliffe in Northumbria

  I am Aelfraed of Topcliffe, or at least I was for a while, and I fought with King Harold at the battle of Stamford Bridge. Perhaps it was wryd or my dead mother watching over me but I was not there, at Senlac Hill, close to the town of Hastings when Harold and all my former comrades died in a final shield wall. I was recovering from a wound to my back, a wound which almost cost me my life but perhaps, ultimately, saved my life, for had I been with the other Housecarls then I too would have died for we had all sworn an oath to protect King Harold and my dear friends, Ulf, Wolf and Osgar, all died honouring that oath. It was the mark of the Anglo-Saxons that warriors took oaths which they kept until death. Ridley, the Thegn of Coxold and my oldest comrade, also survived for he too was wounded and, like me he mourned not only our comrades but the end of the finest fighting force ever seen in England. I was just glad that my uncle, Aethelward, who had been strategos and advisor to King Harold, had also survived for he had been with me in my castle at Topcliffe.

  Until my wife, Gytha, had finally arrived from London, escorted by my soldiers, I had feared for her life for she had been with Ealdgyth, Harold’s widow and her twins. We had heard that Duke William had stripped Harold and his brothers of all their land. It had been an astute move for they had owned most of the best parts of southern England. I did not know what it meant for me. A few years ago, before the Confessor had given me my land and before I had met Gytha then I would not have worried about a new ruler but now I had responsibilities. I had a large estate and the people thereon, such as Thomas the Steward and his wife, Sarah, relied on me to ensure that they could continue to live and work the land.

  As part of my regimen to improve my health and recover from the almost mortal wound, I had taken to riding my estate each day escorted by Branton, the sergeant of my archers. His brother Osbert, my sergeant at arms, was training new men to replace those who had fallen fighting Hadrada and Tostig. I enjoyed the exercise but it also gave me the opportunity to speak with my people and discover their feelings. The land gave me an income but it also gave me great responsibilities. Before we left the castle I called in upon Ralph, the blacksmith. He was like Thor himself in his fiery smithy with two of his boys pumping the bellows for all they were worth. His knotted, heavily muscled arms, hammered out the sword he was shaping.

  “How are the weapons coming Ralph?”

  He briefly paused and nodded to me, holding aloft his latest blade, “Well my lord but we are running a little short on iron.”

  “I will send to the Tees for more.” I leaned down to speak to him a little more intimately. “I know not when the Normans will come and what it portends but I know that they will come and I would like all of us to be ready.”

  He nodded and I could see that he appreciated the confidence. “Do not worry my lord. I have repaired all the armour and weapons you recovered from the battle and we have fitted out all of your men at arms and we now have enough for another ten warriors to be so armed.”

  “Excellent. You are a good man.” He beamed and I thought back to my half brothers and the man whom I had thought was my father until a week ago. They would never have praised any of the workers on the estate no matter what they did or sacrificed. Perhaps that was why he had had no loyalty from any of them.

  Branton and I kicked our horses and headed south. “How many more volunteers Branton?” One advantage of my fame, some might say notoriety, was that warriors sought employment with me. There were many, for most of the northern lords had died at Stamford Bridge and Fulford whilst the southern ones had fallen at Senlac. The disadvantage was that men sought you in battle to gain honour from your death in combat.

  “There are another fifteen my lord. My brother is assessing their worth and their skills even as we speak.”

  “Any archers?”

  I saw the grin appear on Branton’s face. It had been a sore point to him that he commanded fewer men than his brother. I saw the value of archers, of which Harold had not had enough numbers; in the battles I had fought they had been crucial to success. “I think we have twenty altogether my lord and some of them are good. The rest, “he shrugged.

  I understood what he meant. Even poor archers could be improved by a good trainer and Branton was just that. The memory of Aedgart came to mine. He had fallen at the battle defending me and he was even better than Osbert and Branton when it came to making warriors out of the rough clay that arrived to fight for me. I turned in the saddle and regretted it immediately as the pain lanced up my body but I continued my turn, Aethelward had told me that I had to get the suppleness back into my body if I wanted to fight again. The small motte and bailey castle, one of the few in this part of the world made me proud. Built upon my uncle’s advice it stood protecting the old Roman road and was a formidable obstacle to any invader, Norman or Scot! True, it was mainly built of wood, but there was a gatehouse and a couple of rudimentary towers; its key feature was the river which provided good defence around most of its perimeter.

  Branton saw my look and smiled. “It is a fine castle my lord. You should be proud.”

  “I am, Branton.” I could not confide in Branton that it would mean nothing if the Normans decided to take it from me on a whim of the new King of England, William the Bastard. It might be a barrier to the Scots who raided the vale but not the Normans; I knew that from my uncle. “Tell me Branton will your arrows pierce the mail of the Norman armour?”

  “A good question my lord.” He looked off to the so
uth and then took a goose tipped arrow from his quiver. “You see my lord that the arrows we use are intended to cause wounds.” I could see what he meant for the arrow’ tip was sharp and then broadened. “This works well on flesh. Sometimes it will pierce mail rings but not if they are well made. My men are trained to aim for the horses or the flesh of the warrior. But,“ he suddenly looked at me eagerly as though he has had an idea, “if Ralph could make the arrows so that they were narrower, all the way down then they would piece the rings. The wounds would not be as big but they would penetrate the mail; there be nothing to stop them.”

  I saw the merit in the idea. Mail was, essentially, small metal rings held together; one by one they were weak but joined together they became almost impenetrable.“Well done Branton. When you return tell Ralph to make some and we will try them out.”

  He looked at me curiously, “On Normans, my lord?”

  “Not at the moment but there may come a time…” our ride and our ruminations were cut short when a rider from the castle suddenly galloped up. “My lord, a messenger has come from the Queen. She is at Jorvik.”

  Reining our mounts around, we galloped back to Topcliffe. Our brief interlude in the backwater of the north had ended and politics was returned once more. Aethelward and the messenger were deep in conversation when we arrived back. Branton helped me down; mounting was easier than the dismount but my men understood my dilemma.

  “Is she safe then uncle?”

  He flashed me look which told me to ask questions when we were alone. I might be lord of two manors but to my uncle I was still the small boy he had sworn to protect. “Thank you. Tell the Queen that we will follow you as soon as possible.” As the messenger remounted and galloped south, Aethelward turned to Branton. “Send a messenger to Lord Ridley and ask him to join us.”