Saxon Fall

by Griff Hosker

  “Throw more faggots into the fire Daffydd!”

  Faggots were thrown in to join the inferno. We fed it as the Northumbrians gamely tried to climb the walls. Eventually we heard the Saxon horns and the living left the ditch. The air was filled with the shouts and the screams of the wounded and the smell of burning hair and flesh. It was not pleasant. I saw some of the slingers being sick at the sight and the smell. They now knew war.

  Dawn brought us the grisly sight of blackened bodies lying in our ditch. The dung and the bodies smouldered still. We would be trapped within the walls for the rest of the day but the Saxons would have to lick their wounds and decide what to do next. Daylight also brought us the size of the problem we faced. The Northumbrian army had arrived and now stretched all around us. We were ringed in by warriors. The supplies we held were vital to King Edwin. He would have to keep attacking us if only to reclaim his own supplies.

  “Have the men eat and sleep in shifts. They will not attack for a while and we might as well rest and eat.”

  “And you, brother, will you rest?”

  “I would have to descend and to climb the steps to return here. I think I will watch for King Edwin.”

  At noon I was rewarded for my patience by King Edwin and his leaders coming towards us, their hands held out in the sign for peace. I recognised Eadfrith, Osric, Oswiu and Oswald. The sixth I did not recognise but as he looked much like the brothers I took him to be the elder, Eanforth.

  They halted out of bow range. That, in itself, was discourteous. The king took off his helmet. I noticed the huge cross of the White Christ which he wore now that he was a Christian. I waited for him to speak. He had sought this conversation.

  “Warlord, I see that you are up to your usual tricks, burning warriors because you fear to fight them.”

  I laughed, “Your warriors are like fleas on a dog Edwin, you get rid of them any way you can for there is no honour in getting rid of lice.”

  I saw that I had struck a nerve with the three brothers. The lack of a title would also have irritated the king. He held out his hands to quieten the brothers. “You are now completely surrounded and you must be running short of firewood. Surrender and I will allow you to leave the burgh unharmed.”

  From their reaction I could see that he had not discussed this with the sons of Aethelfrith. None of them appeared happy: I was their Nemesis.

  “We are comfortable and, as you have been so kind as to lay in supplies for us, we will stay here until they are gone.”

  This time I had got to him. “Then there will be no quarter given and you will all be put to the sword. Even the boys.”

  “Good for I would hate them to be the slaves of Northumbrians!”

  They turned and rode their ponies away.

  I turned to Pol, “They will attack soon. Bring all the men back to the walls.”

  Daffydd said, “Should I throw the last of the faggots in the fire, Warlord?”

  “No Daffydd, save those for tonight. If we are still here.”

  I donned my helmet for I knew that I would need it. I looked at my quiver. There were ten arrows left and then I would have to rely on Saxon Slayer. I estimated that the Northumbrians were in their hundreds. I could see at least eight hundred before me and we were surrounded. I had to assume there were others in the forest too. The odds were more than twenty five to one against us.

  King Edwin organised four wedges to attack us. He had more than enough men to divide our forces and he would be able to outnumber us on every wall. The attack the previous night had, effectively, filled in the ditches with his dead warriors. The Northumbrians did not have many archers but they would be able to target our men on the walls and they could afford to lose twenty five men just to kill one of us.

  Each wedge was led by a chief and mailed warriors. Further back they were lightly armed. Between the wedges came the fyrd. They had an assortment of weapons and would fight individually. They were useful in dividing our attack.

  “Daffydd, concentrate your archers on the men without armour. The slingers can deal with the mailed warriors.” We had a limited number of arrows and I wanted the maximum casualties.

  The advancing wedges chanted their Saxon war cries. It was meant to intimidate. It did not affect my equites and archers but I saw some worried looks amongst my slingers. “I will give a silver coin to any slinger who brings down a warrior in mail!”

  The cost was immaterial; I wanted them to forget their fears and try to win the silver coin. I heard the lead balls as they cracked against the shields of the warriors. One suddenly pitched backward as the lead ball struck his helmet. He might not have been killed but he was out of the attack and the gap enabled Kay to hurl a javelin into the chest of the warrior in the second rank. The wedges slowed up. The archers began to hit the warriors at the rear of the wedges. It was like the effect of dripping water; it was slow but eventually it would cause the dam to break. I just hoped we had both the arrows and the time.

  “Ready the javelins!”

  As soon as the warriors stepped into the ditch their line of shields would not be continuous. That was the time to strike. I had three arrows left. When the leading warrior stepped down on to the crisply blackened bodies I loosed an arrow at the warrior behind him. Although he kept his shield up I struck his knee with the barbed missile. He dropped to his good knee and Llenlleog sent an arrow into the shoulder of the warrior next to him. We were not killing warriors but these were their best and they were being wounded.

  By the time the wedge reached the gate there were handfuls of wounded warriors lying sheltering beneath their shields. Some tried to drag themselves back towards safety; that was easier said than done with their fellows trying to get to grips with us.

  “Pelas, go to the other walls and report on how they are doing.”

  I hoped they were doing as well as we were for their main thrust would be towards me. I could see King Edwin and the brothers, less than two hundred paces away staring intently at the gate. Eadfrith was already readying a second warband of two hundred men to exploit any weaknesses. I heard the axes as they smashed against the wooden walls. It was ironical that they were destroying their own burgh. Although not well made, it was new and the wood resisted the blows better than an older fort. The slingers were now causing the most damage as their lead balls struck at very close range. Warriors were dying. Even as I watched a shot struck the arm of an unarmoured warrior and I heard the sharp crack as the bone broke. Had Myrddyn been with us then I am sure he would have had some device to cause more casualties but we were without his assistance.

  While some hacked at the walls others were being raised on shields. I saw Llenlleog fighting a grizzled veteran who wielded an axe as though he had been born with it. He whirled it over his head and I watched Llenlleog time his thrust. It took great courage as well as skill to duck beneath the axe head and stab forward. The warrior was mailed and had a full face helmet. The gap was small but the tip tore into the throat and, as he twisted it free, the men supporting him were covered in his spraying blood. His body crashed into the new warriors coming to their aid.

  We were slowing them but I heard a cry from below. “They are almost through!”

  “Llenlleog, take half of the equites from the walls and attack whoever comes through the gate.”

  The walls looked half empty as the huge, mailed warriors descended. I was left, largely with archers and slingers. Pelas raced back. “They are holding them back, Warlord, but my father has spied another Saxon warband marching from the south!”

  I wondered if our luck had run out. It mattered not. We would fight on until we were all dead. We knew that there would be no quarter given but we would damage the Northumbrians with our sacrifice.

  Eadfrith and his warband were close to the ditch now. I loosed my last arrow. Perhaps my father’s hand guided it for it flew unerringly straight and went through the eye piece of the warrior protecting Eadfrith’s sword side. The Northumbrian looked up in surprise as
his oathsworn fell. I put down my bow and took out Saxon Slayer. Pulling my shield around I prepared to sell my life dearly. A hand appeared over the top of the rampart and I swung down hard severing it half way across the palm. I sensed, rather than saw, the warrior who stepped behind me. Holding my shield up, I swung my sword in a wide arc. It went beneath his shield and I felt it strike his mail shirt and bite into it. The force of the blow made him over balance and he fell, bleeding to his death inside the burgh below.

  Pelas was suddenly felled by a mighty blow to his shield. As he fell to the floor I roared a challenge and leapt at the warrior. The fighting platform was not wide and, as he turned to face me I dropped to one knee and stabbed upwards. My sword went beneath his mail shirt and ripped into his abdomen. I twisted and pulled out a mass of white and pink worms. He, too, fell to the floor. I held out my hand for Pelas. “Come squire, your work is not yet done.

  Just then I heard the sound of a horn from the south and a cheer from Lann Aelle’s men. As I looked over the ramparts I saw the fyrd fleeing. Then there was a horn from King Edwin and his men and the mailed warbands fell back, too. Llenlleog shouted up. “It is King Penda, he has come!”

  The Allfather and the spirits watched over us still. We had held.

  Chapter 22

  Despite the timely arrival of the Mercians we had lost too many men and boys. I was happy to pay the silver coins to the brave survivors. I saw equites and archers, whom I had fought alongside, lying dead. It did not help the fact that we had killed many more of the Northumbrians. As my squires went into the ditches to ease the suffering of the dead and to get their byrnies, I made my way, gingerly, to the southern gate. Although I had not opened the wound I was in some pain. On the positive side, I knew that I could fight, once more. My body was recovering.

  “We had better put the horses beyond the walls; I dare say King Penda may want to stay in this burgh. Have the equites and squires set up a camp to the south of the burgh by the river.”

  “Aye Warlord.” Pol grinned, “I think the horses are also getting sick of the smell.”

  “Llewellyn and Llenlleog, keep watch on the Northumbrians and tell me what they are doing.”

  I went to the southern gate to meet with Penda. He clasped my arm in the warrior’s grip. “Well done, Warlord. Edwin has, indeed, brought all of his army. He intended to defeat us once and for all. It is good that you found him.”

  “Come to the hall, there are supplies for all of your men.”

  He lowered his voice and spoke to me urgently, “You and I must talk alone.”

  There were three squires in the hall. “Go and help Pol move the horses to the pasture.”

  “Aye, Warlord.”

  As they were leaving Penda asked, “Is there any ale? I have a thirst on me.”

  I found him a horn of ale and I poured myself one too. “Thank you for your timely arrival.”

  He quaffed his in one. “It is King Cadwallon. He has become Christian.” I was stunned. He had served with father and with me. He had been to the dream cave. Why would he become Christian? “There is more.” He put his hand on my arm. “Your sister has died.”

  “How?”

  “She and their son Cadfan had the sleeping sickness. Cadwallon sent for Myrddyn but before he could reach Wrecsam a priest of the White Christ arrived. Cadwallon asked him to intercede but his wife, you sister, died. The priest made the king promise that if his son was saved then the king and his kingdom would become Christian.”

  I nodded. I began to see it. “And Cadfan was saved.” He nodded as he poured himself another horn of ale. “Tell me, did this priest have a name?”

  “I believe he was called Paulinus of Eboracum.”

  That confirmed it. “He was the priest with King Edwin. I see a Northumbrian plot here. The sooner the king arrives, the better.”

  “If the Cymri do not fight alongside us we cannot defeat Edwin.”

  “I will persuade him.”

  I took Lann Aelle, Pol and Gawan across the battlefield, ostensibly to look for the Northumbrian leaders who might have fallen, but actually to talk about King Cadwallon away from the warriors.

  When I told them Gawan nodded, “I had strange dreams last week and I saw our mother dying again but now I see that was our sister.”

  I nodded. “I see a plot here. It cannot be a coincidence that this priest was at the wedding of King Edwin and then turns up at the court of Cadwallon when there is sickness.”

  Lann Aelle suddenly started, “You mean the priest caused the sickness?”

  “I would not put it past them. I am the ultimate pagan and Nanna was my sister. It makes sense that they would punish me through her and inveigle their way into the heart of the king by saving his son.”

  “But how would they do that?”

  Gawan said, “There are ways. Myrddyn would know them.”

  “Does this mean that the men of Cymru will not fight?”

  “I think, Pol, that the intention of the priests and Edwin was for that to happen but the fact that they are on their way gives me a kind of hope. I cannot believe that his warriors will have embraced the White Christ.” I looked to the south, “This is where we need Myrddyn. He has the power to reverse such things.”

  Gawan shook his head, “I am sorry, brother. I am a pale imitation.”

  “No, for we all walk in the footsteps of giants. I try to be our father and you try to be Myrddyn. I doubt that we will ever achieve what they did but that does not mean we give up. I will speak with Cadwallon. Gawan, you can deal with the priest.”

  He nodded, “And tonight I will dream.” I looked at him. “There are some herbs and potions which we can use to help us enter the dream world when we are not in the cave of Wyddfa. I will try to send a message to Myrddyn.”

  Lann Aelle said, “Perhaps he knows already.”

  “That would be my thought too but we plan as though he will not be here. Speak not of this to our men. To them we must have a common front. Dissension only helps Edwin and our foes.”

  We were all in good cheer that night as we celebrated. The Northumbrian fires still lined the forest and we were still outnumbered but so long as we held the burgh then Edwin could not attack. The next day we discovered that the bodies which lay before the burgh had been collected and buried during the night; we had not needed a truce.

  I felt better when I woke and I mounted the equites for a show of force. We rode towards the Northumbrian camp. I needed to ascertain their numbers and to show them that we had no intention of leaving. We rode along the length of their camp just out of bow range. We rode with our left side towards the Northumbrian camp. If they did loose arrows then our shields were there to protect us. I noticed, as we rode, that there were men of Dál Riata there too. Edwin had allied with the men who had also chosen the White Christ. It made me even more suspicious of this Paulinus.

  When we were approaching the burgh riders were at the gate. “King Cadwallon comes!”

  Pelas led my horse away and I went to speak with King Penda. “They have Hibernians with them and they outnumber us still.”

  “Then the arrival of King Cadwallon may swing the numbers in our favour.”

  I told the king of my suspicions about the priest and he concurred. “What do we do, Warlord? You know him better than any.”

  “I thought I did. He was like a brother to me but I will try. Gawan dreamed last night. I hope that Myrddyn can come.”

  King Penda smiled, “Perhaps he can fly here as he did when he killed Morcant Bulc.”

  “Perhaps. But however he gets here I would it were soon.” I paused, “Suppose this Paulinus has already poisoned the mind of our friend. We would be trapped between two armies.”

  I could see that the thought had not occurred to the Mercian. “Surely he will not have fallen that far so soon.”

  “The priests of the White Christ hate us. They would do anything to eliminate us and make the world worship their White Christ.”

  We watche
d the army of the Cymri as they wound their way north. I saw the priest riding next to the King with Cadfan between them. Neither Penda nor I bowed as King Cadwallon dismounted and, for the first time since I had known him, he looked unhappy about the lack of deference. I saw the cross hanging around his neck. I ignored the priest.

  “It is good to see you, brother.” As he dismounted I embraced him. He did not respond. “I am sorry for your loss but my sister is in the Otherworld with my father.”

  He almost recoiled. He held the cross before him. “I follow the cross now, Warlord, as do my warriors. We are Christians.”

  I looked beyond him. His leaders, with whom I had fought, did not look happy and I saw no crosses. I nodded, “There are many supplies within. Come and we will talk,” I looked pointedly at the priest, “the three of us.”

  King Cadwallon said, “Brother Paulinus can offer sage advice, Warlord.”

  “Unless he has stood in a shield wall he cannot.” I stared at the king, “I am Warlord still, King Cadwallon.”

  The priest said, “And he is king!”

  I turned on the white clad servant of the White Christ and put my face close to his. “The last I heard you were at the wedding of King Edwin and now you are here. If I were you priest I would stay beyond the reach of my sword.”

  He paled and clutched his own cross. “You would threaten a man of the church?”

  I laughed, “Of course I would! It is not my church. My church is the world and we need no white clad priests to instruct us.” I turned to the king, “Come Cadwallon, it is too hot to debate in the sun. Come to the hall with Penda and me. We have things to say to you. Pelas, watch over Prince Cadfan.”