by Griff Hosker
“You stay here with the warriors and the wounded. I will ride with the archers and the horsemen to Wrecsam.”
He nodded and picked up three spare javelins which were close to the pack horses. He handed them to me. “Be careful Warlord. The trap may not just have been the work of Aethelfrith. Cearl may be a party to it.”
“I will be cautious.”
I turned the horse’s head around and Gawan said, “And what of me?”
I lifted my helmet from my head, “You can help Myrddyn.”
He held the wolf banner up. “And this? What of your standard?”
“I ride on a horse. You cannot defend yourself on a horse if you hold the standard.”
In answer he handed the banner to Myrddyn and grabbed the reins of one of the other spare horses; I saw his face show the pain he endured but he hauled himself up into the saddle and held his left hand out for the banner. “I can ride and I can hold the banner. That is enough.”
I opened my mouth to speak and Myrddyn said, “He is your son, Warlord, would you expect anything less?”
“You are right. Come on then you mad men let us ride to glory.”
The men of the shield wall cheered as we trotted off. Their cries of “Wolf Warrior” still rang in my ears. The dead and dying littered the field and my warriors were walking across it despatching the Saxon wounded. Tuanthal pointed to the north west, “My lord, look there.”
I turned and saw the remaining Saxons fleeing towards the coast where, presumably, they had their ships. They would return from whence they came but they had a price to pay yet. I would hunt them down and punish them for this raid.
My horse was little more than a hill pony, as were most of Tuanthal’s mounts. This would not allow me to charge and fight on horseback; it could not carry my weight. The beast was to carry me close to their walls so that I could view the town. The scouts we had sent out met us a mile from the besieged burgh.
“Warlord, there are many Saxons around the walls and they are battering at them with their axes.”
“But the town still holds?”
“Yes my lord. We saw the king on the fighting platform.”
“And do they have warriors watching this way?”
“No, my lord. They are all fighting at the walls. Their king is on the far side leading the men there.”
I waved my two captains to me. “It seems that we still have a chance; despite our small numbers.” I looked at the horsemen and the archers. We had about a hundred and fifty men. Not a huge number but I wondered what the Saxons would see. If we appeared as a line then they might assume that I had brought the full weight of my army against them. If their king had been with the men we would be facing it might be different but it was worth the gamble. I hoped, at the very least to get myself into the town.
“We will ride and form a long line on the ridge above the town. Daffydd, you place your men on the flanks. We ride as though we are considering charging. I want the men to make as much noise as we can. As soon as we begin to move then place your archers behind the horsemen. We will charge and loose javelins and that will give Daffydd the time to dismount and harass them with arrows. If we can I want the archers and myself to get into the town. Tuanthal, you are to stay outside the walls. Collect Myrddyn and the others and continue to wage a war at distance. I want them weakened. If you need to, then return to our fort and bring some of those warriors. We know that these are the only enemies close to the Clwyd Valley.”
Tuanthal had been with me a long time and he too was showing the flecks of grey in his beard but when he grinned, as he did now, he was the young boy I had first taken to war from the Castle Perilous. “At last I get to tell the wizard what to do!”
We all laughed and Gawan shook his head, “Good luck with that one then.”
The ridge was a low one and was a mile from the town. It would help us to gain speed when we trotted down the slope.
I waited until the men were in line. I looked at Gawan. “How is the hand?”
“Painful but it will not stop me. You can rely on me.” He looked determined. I peered along the line of warriors; Tuanthal was on the right hand end of the line and Prince Cadwallon on the left, his dragon banner marking him for our enemies.
“I know.” I turned along the line, “Wolf Warriors!”
A cheer erupted and they all roared back at me. I saw a few of the faces at the rear of the Saxon attack turn to look at us. Beyond them I could see that the Mercians had begun to fire the walls. We had no time to lose. “Forward!”
We trotted down the line and I saw the Mercian leader trying to reorganise his men. We were hardly going at more than a fast walk but it must have appeared quicker to those about to receive us. Their numbers were hard to estimate but they must have outnumbered us. Our hope was to carve a hole in their middle and weaken them.
I steadied myself and readied my javelin. It was many years since I had thrown one from the back of a horse. I hoped I would not make a complete fool of myself; I had seen men fall from their horses when they had attempted to throw one. I laughed when I realised that I would not have far to fall. I heard a cheer as Tuanthal’s men cheered my laughter. They thought it meant I did not fear the Saxons.
I threw it high knowing that a plunging javelin was harder to avoid and it was an easier throw. As their shields came up we hurled our second one. Tuanthal shouted, “Fall back!”
I dutifully turned along with the other warriors. I noticed that four of Tuanthal’s men were within arm’s length of me and my son. My captain of horse was protecting his Warlord and standard bearer! I saw Prince Cadwallon fighting off those Mercians who tried to kill the Prince of Gwynedd. He rode his own horse which was bigger than ours and they stood no chance. He looked imperious as he slew all around him.
The Saxons, seeing how few we were, ran after us. It was a mistake for, as we rode away from them, our archers loosed a flight of arrows high into the air. We wheeled left and right to ride behind them and they loosed another four flights by which time we had ridden around them and were ready to advance once more.
“Forward!”
As we rode towards the enemy again I saw that the ground was littered with their dead. I turned to Gawan, “How does your hand feel?”
“Do not worry, Warlord. Your banner will stand by you.”
The Saxons were now totally disorganised. Daffydd and his men had moved forwards to close with the leaderless Saxons. We all threw our last javelins and I looked towards the gate to see if I had a clear passage through to the town. It was a mistake. One warrior, braver than the rest, ran at me and hurled his spear at me. It was not the best thrown spear but it plunged into the throat of my small horse and he tumbled to his death. It was many years since I had fallen from a horse but I remembered what to do. I went with the fall and rolled. When I had been younger it was easier. My age told and I hit the ground hard and was winded. I lay there on the ground staring at the sky.
I heard a yell and saw three Saxons racing to finish off the Warlord. I tried to rise but my mail was heavy. The spear which was intended to stick me like a pig came towards my face. I grabbed the head of the spear and pulled the warrior towards my mailed fist. I heard his nose crack. I heard metal on metal and felt a sharp pain in my leg. I saw a sword held by a triumphant Saxon and it was covered in my blood. Before either he or his companion could finish me off my banner appeared before my face and the pointed end went into my would-be killer’s eye. I whipped my shield around just in time to block the sword which swung from the sky.
Gawan wheeled around and leapt from his horse. He planted the standard next to me and drew his own sword. I drew Saxon Slayer and we grinned at each other.
The Saxons had seen me fall and began to flood towards us. There were less than a hundred of them remaining but my son and I would not be able to fight them all. Myrddyn had been wrong; he had not dreamed my death but it would be a death that would be remembered. The Warlord and his son fighting a warband!
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nbsp; Luckily for us they came at us one by one. I was winded and I was wounded but I was still the Wolf Warrior. I did not wait for the first spear to stick me; I knocked it aside and gutted the warrior. Gawan took the head from another who tried to kill me with his axe. I heard Tuanthal shouting something from behind me but I dared not look. Then I saw them thirty paces away being skewered by Daffydd’s arrows and I heard the sound of hooves. I began to feel a little weak and I felt the warm blood slide down my leg from the wounded thigh. My death would not be long in coming.
A huge warrior with mail and a full face mask loomed before me. He swung his two handed axe. I could barely move my left arm and I was slow to bring up my shield. Suddenly my wolf standard appeared before me and deflected the axe. Before the warrior could swing again I thrust forwards and Saxon Slayer went beneath his helmet and into his throat. He was a brave warrior and, as he died, he pulled on Saxon Slayer, ripping his dying hands to shreds. I fell with him and landed on his body.
I heard Gawan shout, “Move father!”
I rolled to my right and a sword embedded itself in the dead Saxon’s body. I swung my sword blindly and was rewarded when it struck the bone of the warrior’s leg. He collapsed in a heap and bled his life away. Gawan held out his mangled hand for me to help raise me. When it touched my thigh and came away bloody he stepped before me. “You are wounded.”
“Aye and I have a shield. Get behind me.” He shook his head and stood defiantly.
I could see that there were still forty warriors before us; more than enough to kill us. And then I heard a Roman horn and the northern gate opened. The men of Wrecsam raced towards the Mercians as Tuanthal and his horsemen fell amongst them. They were slaughtered to a man. The men of Wrecsam were wreaking revenge on those who had attacked them and my horsemen were taking out their anger on those who had felled their leader. I have never seen my horsemen be so ferocious and so merciless. Four of them leapt from their horses and helped Gawan to support me.
I turned to speak with Gawan and it was as though I was falling into a dark black hole. My leg did not seem to want to support me and crumpled.
Chapter 18
I awoke to the sight of Gawan and Myrddyn standing over me and both looking concerned. “Did you dream this wizard?” I noticed that my voice sounded sleepy.
“No Warlord, and I have chastised myself many times for not being here with you when you needed me.”
“My son did more than well.”
“I know. “
“How long have I been here?”
“The battle was yesterday. I arrived last night and it is now morning.”
“Have we won?” They both exchanged a look. I could see that they were hiding something from me. Whatever they had given to me for the pain had worked but it had also made me irritable. “I am still the Warlord, tell me!”
Myrddyn nodded at Gawan who began to speak. “The Mercians are still camped at the southern end of the stronghold.” He took a deep breath. They have been chanting that you are dead.” He paused.
“And the rest?”
“King Cadfan has been badly wounded. We are not certain if he will live. The Mercians will not leave for they think we shall soon be leaderless.”
I closed my eyes. I knew what had to be done. I opened them and saw my mail. “Gawan bring me my mail. I will need my standard too.”
Myrddyn shook his head and tried to restrain me. “You have had a bad wound. I have had to put in twenty stitches. I do not want them bursting and you bleeding to death.”
I scanned the room and saw one of Tuanthal’s men holding a torch. “Warrior, bring that torch over here.” My men were used to obeying me and he did so but he looked worried. “Cauterise the wound.” He shook his head. “That is an order. You are oathsworn.” He steeled himself and took a step towards me.
Myrddyn grabbed the torch from his hand. “This is nonsense but if you insist then at least let your healer do it. Gawan lift up your father’s undershirt. Guard, grab his arms and stop him from moving.”
As Gawan lifted my shirt I saw the angry red line running from my hip down my thigh. It almost reached my knee. It was an impressive wound. The guard’s strong hands gripped my arms and Myrddyn plunged the torch into the wound. There was the usual smell of burning hair and burning flesh but the pain was not as bad as I had experienced before. Myrddyn saw my surprised look and said, “I gave you a potion. It would knock out a horse. Next time I double the dose for you.”
Then the pain hit. Waves shot up my side and made me close my eyes and clench my teeth. I gripped the table before me as though I was hanging on to life itself.
“There, are you satisfied now?”
“Put on my mail. We will go and speak with Cearl. Tell the prince I will need him too.”
As the mail was lifted over my head I noticed the strong smell of sweat, horse and blood. I needed to have my mail cleaned when all this was over. I strapped my sword on and said to the guard, “Carry my helmet for me. Gawan, my wolf cloak.”
I knew that I had to persuade the Mercians that, not only was it me but I was fit and ready to fight; regardless of how I felt.
Gawan walked next to me and I was grateful for his support. My legs did not want to walk. He carried my wolf banner and my shield. When we left the Great Hall we were seen by the men on the walls. They let out a huge cheer. I saw Daffydd on the walls with his archers and he smiled and waved; the relief was clear even from that distance.
“Where is Tuanthal?”
“He is outside the town. He has positioned himself to the north so that he can swoop down on the Mercians should they try anything. We have more men coming from the Clwyd valley; they should be here by noon.” I hoped that by noon the Mercians would be gone.
Prince Cadwallon appeared at my side. He looked ashen. “How is your father?”
“He is gravely wounded.”
“Myrddyn, go to him.”
“When you have spoken with the Mercians then I will go. He has healers. If you are going to do this then let me add a little magic of my own.“ I did not know what he was up to but I knew that it would be clever. I nodded my agreement. “Prince, if you would wait with the Warlord I will see what I can do.” He saw my look, “Let us try a trick like at Penrhyd eh?”
We walked over to the ladder leading to the wooden gatehouse. I say we walked but I limped. The gatehouse still smouldered from where they had tried to fire it. King Cadfan knew better than to have a wooden wall which did not have plenty of water close to hand.
Myrddyn stepped to the top of the tower and nodded to the warrior who held the Roman horn. He sounded a blast on it. Then Myrddyn began to speak. I had learned, over the years that being a wizard needed a lot of acting skills and a good voice. Myrddyn had both. He began to speak and his voice carried across the silent fields to the waiting Mercians.
“Mercians, King Cearl, I am Myrddyn the wizard.” He then threw a handful of dust at the torch which still burned at the corner of the tower. It blazed purple, yellow and green and the flames leapt into the air. I heard the gasp from the warriors. I had seen him do that before. It was more effective at night time but, as a trick, it always worked.
I heard an indistinct voice. Then Myrddyn shouted. “Advance, bring just your guards and I swear that you will not be harmed.” He glanced down at me and waved for me to ascend half way up the ladder. Each movement sent rivers of pain running through my body. I gritted my teeth to get half way and I was relieved when I could stop.
I heard King Cearl. I had never met him but I assumed it must be he. He spoke in Saxon.
“You may be the wizard but the King of Gwynedd and Lord Lann of Rheged are dead. I claim the field and all the lands of those two warriors.”
Myrddyn laughed. “You have a handful of warriors and you would walk into this land and take it. There are many warriors just waiting for my command to sweep down on you and end your insolence.”
It was the king’s turn to laugh and I heard him say, “Th
en send the handful of men on ponies. Your equites are many miles hence. Do not try to deceive me wizard. I am not a fool to be taken in by your little tricks.”
“And I say that the warlord is not dead.”
“Then you lie. My men saw him cut down and be carried from the field. The warrior who thrust his sword into him was one of my greatest champions. The Warlord is dead!” All the Mercians cheered his words.
“Is he?” I could see Myrddyn clearly and he put his hands before him and closed his eyes. He began to chant; the language was neither Saxon nor the language of Britannia but a mixture of Latin and Arabic. I was impressed. He had learned much in Constantinopolis. I knew it meant nothing but they did not. Once again he threw some dust into the torch and then said, “Warlord, I summon you.”
I did not need a gesture to tell me what to do and I stepped up the stairs followed by Gawan and the sentry with my helmet. It was my turn to act. I put the pain from my mind and I peered over the wall. King Cearl and twenty oathsworn stood a hundred paces from the walls. Behind him I could see the massed Mercian army. Had I had all my army we could have swept them from the field but my handful of men could do little damage to such a mighty host.
“I am the Warlord and I am not, as you can see, dead.” I saw his men recoil. They had been told I was killed and here I was as large as life. Even the king looked taken aback.
“This does not change anything. Although I am not surprised that Myrddyn is a Necromancer also and has raised the dead. King Cadfan is dead and Gwynedd is mine.”
I waved for Cadwallon and he stood there on the other side of Myrddyn holding his banner. “This is Prince Cadwallon. His father lives but, even if he were dead then his son would lead the armies would he not?”