by Griff Hosker
Olaf insisted on giving us a fine breakfast before we left. The result was that we did not leave until a couple of hours before noon. As we headed, with full bellies, north and east, I spoke to my bodyguards. They had spent the night with Olaf’s men. Often, they heard more than I did. “What did you learn?”
“You were right, lord. Lord Olaf has been denying you the coin you are due. It is common knowledge.” Mauger hesitated.
“Speak! I will not be offended.”
“His men think you are old, lord, and cannot discover the fraud. They were boasting of how clever Olaf Olafsson is. We pretended that we could not hold our ale. They were deceived.”
I laughed, “Then he is in for a rude shock.”
Before we had left Olaf had shown concern for me. He had asked if he should send men to accompany me. When I told him where I was going, he said that bandits often raided that part of my land. I was surprised. Lord Henry, who had been Harold Sorenson, was a dependable lord and he held that rich piece of farmland for me. He was the next lord I would visit. His words acted as a warning and we rode as though in enemy territory. We were less than four miles from Lord Henry’s home when Snorri Larsson, who was riding as a scout, suddenly stopped and dismounted. He went to his horse’s hind quarter and pretended to examine its fetlock. It was the signal that there was danger. My men did not react overtly but we all became wary. I pulled up my mail hood and leaned forward to stroke my horse’s ears. I saw my men slip their shields onto their arms. To a watcher, it would appear as though we had not reacted but we were ready. Snorri had told us that there was an ambush ahead.
My horse, Blue, afforded me a good view of the land and I could not see where the ambush lay. There was a farm ahead but as there was no smoke coming from its roof, I assumed it was abandoned. There were no fowl clucking in the yard and the place had an abandoned feel about it. We reined in next to Snorri as he mounted his horse.
He pulled himself up into his saddle and as he did so he spoke to me, “Lord there are men hiding up ahead. Men who hide do not mean well. They have unsheathed weapons and they are trying to hide. While I have been stopped, I have seen other men on the opposite side of this road.”
We walked slowly down the road. I looked ahead. The farm was to the south of the road and to the north was what had once been an orchard. The trees were overgrown. I began to become angry for this was Normandy. This was my land. We were mailed and we were armed. These were bandits. When we were less than two hundred paces from the farm, I turned in my saddle, “Draw your weapons.” As they did, I stood in my stiraps, “I am Robert, Duke of Normandy. Show yourselves or die!” The response was a flurry of arrows. I wore leather gauntlets and as a pair of arrows came at me, I flicked up my hand. It was just a reaction. Although I managed to hit both arrows one was deflected and I felt it strike my cheek. Blood dripped down.
My men needed no orders. Their horses were smaller and nimbler than Blue. They dug in their heels and galloped towards the archers. I did the same with Blue. He lumbered down the road. Once he got up to speed, he was unstoppable but we would not reach his full speed by the time we reached the farm. I drew Long Sword. I now saw the ambushers. There were more than fourteen of them. They had been forced to stand to send their arrows at us. They were Vikings. They knew how to use a bow. That was shown when one of my oathsworn, Stephen son of Sven was thrown from his saddle having been hit by three arrows. Mauger and Snorri avenged their shield brother and their swords hacked into the necks of two of the bowmen.
My helmet hung from my saddle but my coif protected my head. It saved my life for the arrow which came at my head hit the coif and just made my head ring as the missile was deflected. I galloped down the road towards two bowmen who stood drawing back their arms. Blue was much faster now. He had been bred not only to carry my body but also to fight. His mouth opened and revealed his teeth. I do not think the two men had faced a charging horse. They had certainly never seen such a huge horse. As I closed, I saw fear in their faces. It made them panic. Men who panic do not fight well. They fumbled with their arrows. They wore no helmets and had no mail. Instead of concentrating upon killing me they were worried about their survival. It cost them their lives. The two arrows they sent at me missed me by a sword’s length. They had loosed too quickly. As Blue’s hooves smashed into the legs of one, Long Sword swung from on high and sliced into the skull and then the chest of the other. It laid him open to his ribs. I wheeled Blue around and used Long Sword to split open the head of the man with the crushed and shattered legs. I saw Mauger slay the last one. We had won but I had lost another oathsworn.
“Are any left alive?”
Mauger shook his head, “I am sorry, lord. When young Stephen died then the blood rushed to our heads.”
It was regrettable but understandable. I nodded, “Put Stephen on his horse. We will bury him later. Then search the bodies. Take everything you can find. There may be clues as to their paymaster.”
Beorn Yellow Hair asked, “Are these not bandits, lord?”
“Bandits, who risk death by attacking the Duke of Normandy?” I shook my head. “These were sent here. They were killers.”
Mauger dismounted and began to take the purse from the man he had just killed, “Olaf Olafsson?”
“Perhaps, although it is a little obvious if that is true. He warned us of bandits and offered to send men with us. His name, however, is now in my mind.”
The weapons were not worth anything and after killing their swords we headed towards the hall of Harold Sorenson. The evidence we had discovered was inconclusive. There seemed to be more coins from Flanders than from Normandy. That, in itself, was not a surprise. Flanders lay just ten miles or so to the north of us. What was suspicious was that they each had silver coins amongst the copper and one, obviously, the leader, had a gold piece from the land of the Franks. They were not bandits. They were mercenaries and they had been sent to kill me.
Harold Sorenson lived on the borderlands. He had a hall which was like the Haugr. He had dug a ditch and used the spoil to build a rampart with a wooden palisade. His hall was large enough to accommodate him, his family, his hearth weru and his animals. He had taken the name Henry when he had married the daughter of the lord whose land we had taken. His wife was Christian and had insisted upon Harold taking a Christian name if they were to be married. Harold had not killed her father. He had been killed by another in a battle far to the south. The people of this land were both practical and pragmatic. They were far from Paris and had learned to adapt to new masters. Flanders had fought Frankia for this land. We were just a new combatant. Lord Henry, as he was now titled, and his wife appeared to be happy enough. Certainly, the smile she gave me appeared genuine. His son, Robert, looked a fine young man. Not yet with a beard, his body showed that his father had begun to train him for war.
“You should have warned us, my lord.”
I dismounted, “Your husband will tell you, my lady, that I am a rough and ready lord. I need nothing special. Whatever food you were going to eat this night will suffice and we only stay one night.”
“Then I will go and prepare your accommodation.”
I smiled. Accommodation would be another mattress placed close to the fire. Turning to my lord I said, simply, “We were attacked four miles down the road at the deserted farmhouse.”
He nodded although his face showed both shock and concern. He was surprised. He had had nothing to do with the attack, “Arne’s place. He and his family were killed by bandits four years since. None will live there for they fear it is haunted. I am sorry you lost a man.”
“And we should bury him. You have a cemetery?”
“In the village, there is a church. We can bury him there. I will see that his grave is honoured.”
It was dark by the time we had laid Stephen to rest and I was weary as I entered the hall. The delay had enabled Lady Popa to have more food prepared. The ale helped to revive me and as we ate, I was able to speak to Lord Henry. His you
ng son, Robert, who looked to be ten or eleven summers old listened with rapt attention. I smiled for he was the future of this land. He would grow up as a Norman. His father was a Viking and his mother a Frank but he would be Norman.
“They could have come from Flanders. Count Arnulf gathers mercenaries like farmers gather apples in autumn. These walls, lord, are not here for show. They serve a purpose. We bar our gate at night and I have two men on watch. We fear those from across the border. This is rich farmland and the Flemish want it.”
I was here to see into the hearts of my men and I saw no deception in Lord Henry’s eyes. I told him of my plans for the attack. I explained his part. He nodded, “I can bring twenty men and still leave my walls guarded but I have no drekar.”
“Then you and your men will come to Rouen. I have men who will march to war.”
He looked surprised, “I thought we were attacking by sea?”
I smiled, “You and your son can keep this secret safe. Our enemies still expect a fleet to appear off their coast. I want their eyes there. When you reach Rouen then all will be revealed.” He nodded. “Will your son be coming with you?”
“His mother does not wish it for the sons of Frankish lords wait until they have a beard before they fight. My son is the son of a Viking. He can use a sling. He has shown that he can use a practice sword too. He works with Ivar, the leader of my hearth weru. I learned the same way. The sooner a boy learns to fight the sooner he becomes a man. You wish to come, do you not, Robert?”
“Aye, father. I would like to say that I fought in a battle with this great lord.”
When we left, the next morning, I was happier than I had been when I had left Djupr. Lord Henry paid his taxes and there was no hint of deception in his words. I would have spent the rest of my wanderings well if it was not for the disquiet amongst some of my lords. The lords close to Flanders spoke of unrest amongst their people. The Franks objected to the taxes which were levied. The taxes were exactly the same as the ones they had paid to King Charles. The reasons were vague. Some of my lords thought it was because we were Vikings and they thought us barbarians. Others thought that it was the church while a number believed that Count Arnulf was behind it. I could do little about Count Arnulf and I could not change their perception of Vikings but I could do something about the Church. The day after my return I had Father Harold summon the Archbishop. The Archbishop came with other priests. I had William with me. Although I was keen to know what had happened in the south I had other matters, more pressing, to deal with. There was rebellion afoot.
I had thought we had an understanding and so I began the discussion. “Archbishop, I am disappointed.”
“Disappointed, lord?”
“You have a fine cathedral have you not? I have given the coin to improve it.”
“Yes, lord, and we thank you.” He looked at me as though I spoke a foreign language.
“Your priests and your churches are treated well? My lords look out for them?”
I could see him looking from me to Father Harold and back. He was confused. Father Harold was too for I had deliberately not spoken to him. “Yes, lord. Do you seek thanks? We pray for you and your son each day.”
“And I thank you in return but what of the priests who live close to Flanders? Why are they fermenting rebellion?”
“Are they, lord?” He seemed both relieved that he had discovered the cause of my concern and confused because he did not think it was true.
“Some of my lords seem to think so. I have important matters to deal with but come Ýlir, the month you call December, I intend to visit the priests along the border and if they are found to be inciting rebellion then I will deal with them.”
“Lord, they are priests and subject only to God’s law!”
“If they live in my land then they are subject to my law! Deal with it, Archbishop, or I shall!”
He nodded, “I am certain that they only do God’s work and have nothing to do with fermenting rebellion but I will speak with them.” He and his priests scurried out.
I turned to William, “What do you think?”
“That you dealt with him a little more harshly than I expected but I think he was genuinely unaware of any rebellion.”
I nodded, “My choice of words and tone were as a result of my words with the King. He needs us more than we need him. He is beset by enemies. When we fight the Bretons, we fight his war. I will not break my oath but I am less worried about our position. A greater worry is this talk of insurrection.”
“You saw no evidence of it did you?”
“No, but as I was returning home, I realised that our raid on Wessex only benefitted the lords south of the River Seine. That means all of their people gained. Perhaps those lords north of the river see the riches of the south and are resentful.”
“They could have raided. They are Vikings at heart. I raided. I filled my own coffers. That is why my men all wear mail, have the best of helmets and the finest of swords. My men pay well for their food and ale. My people are satisfied. The ones in Rouen and Caen are satisfied.” He looked at the table and then back up at me. “I am surprised at Olaf Olafsson. His father was a rock. He would have snuffed out talk of rebellion when he first heard of it. Perhaps he is at the heart of this unrest. We found no sign of it south of the river. The lords there were eager to fight and spoke from their hearts.”
“And that is why I want you to command the fleet when it sails for Nantes. Olaf has more ships than we do but you will command. You will watch him. I am getting old and it will be you who leads the lords like Olaf, Henry and the others. The days of Sámr, Bjorn the Brave and Bergil Fast Blade are numbered.”
“You are still a mighty warrior. Mauger told me how you almost split one of those who attacked you in two. That is not the act of a warrior who should hang up his sword. When you were taken to the bottom of the ocean and then freed the gods chose you. They chose the Dragonheart when they touched his sword. You died and were reborn. There is still magic about you.”
I laughed, “Do not mention that to the Archbishop, eh?”
We were both thrown into preparations for the war. My ships would be coming to Caen and William took his drekar and his men there. I sent Erik Leifsson with the young crew of ‘Fafnir’. I would not be travelling with the fleet. Instead, I would be leading those who headed across my land. To that end, I invited Bergil Fast Blade, Erik Gillesson, Gandálfr, Harold Mighty Fist and my other lords to muster at Bjorn the Brave’s hall at Évreux. Although closer to the land of the Bretons than Rouen it was still far enough away so that the muster would go unnoticed. Before he left, William and I pored over the maps and my plans. William and the fleet would be the bait who would draw the eyes of the Bretons to Nantes and Vannes. Our fleet would be seen as a threat. In their eyes, we were still Vikings and Vikings raided using the river! I would lead my horsemen and the rest of the army overland. Our first target was Alençon. It was ostensibly still a Frankish town but the Bretons had insinuated themselves there. It was a Breton lord who ruled. We would have to reduce it first before we moved on to Rennes. Nantes and Vannes were seaports. Our fleet could blockade them. Rennes was a rat hole to which they could flee. I intended to take it and deny the Count of Cornouaille a place he could spend the winter. There were other strongholds to which he could flee but if I held his three most powerful then I had won.
Bjorn the Brave sent me word when my men were mustered. The ones I trusted I had ordered to meet at Bjorn’s. The ones I did not trust would be sent for when I left Rouen. They might be late to the muster but it meant I would lead men in whom I had complete faith. My presence in Rouen was important. It would lull my enemies into a false sense of security. While I was in Rouen there would be no attack. When I slipped out it was with my eight oathsworn and twenty riders. They were the sons of the rich men of Rouen. I had enough warriors for my shield wall and what I needed was horsemen. These young men had good horses. Their fathers could afford fine mail and swords. Each had
sworn an oath to me. They were Christians and so I had a Bible as well as their swords. We were changing. They had all spent time with Erik at his training camp. He vouched for their skills and honesty. They would be an extra layer of protection for me when we went to war. I would use Blue to travel wherever the battle was at its fiercest. My twenty-eight men would be able to protect me. We left before dawn. Egil and the men who remained were more than enough to protect my town from an attack. To add to the illusion Egil dressed Sven Long Legs, the tallest man in the garrison, in my clothes. It would only fool an observer from a distance but that was all we needed. We rode south and east while darkness and early mist hid us from observers and spies.
Although they were well armed, trained and mailed, the young men of my town were untried. As we rode, I saw Mauger and the rest of my hearth weru viewing them with suspicion. Until they had been tested in battle then my eight bodyguards would not trust them. I confess that I was curious. If the experiment was successful then it could be repeated throughout my land. Each of my towns had men whose fathers were rich. They were the merchants. They were the men who produced pots, goblets and platters used throughout the land. They were the owners of merchant ships. If I could harness their potential and their coin then we would be more powerful than any Viking army had ever been for we would have mailed horsemen who could fight from the back of a horse. Such a thing had been the dream of my grandfather. I hoped that I would see that dream fulfilled.
There was now a mighty camp at Évreux. After the news of unrest, he and my other lords had each road leading into the camp well-guarded. Word of our presence would not get out. We would not spend long at Évreux and once we left it would not matter if word spread of the Norman army heading for Brittany. My plans meant I would try to sow confusion. I held a council of war and appointed six men to lead my six warbands. Erik Gillesson would lead the largest warband. They were the horsemen. Each lord had brought some men on horses and they joined Erik. Each of my six warbands would travel separately. The warbands would take a different road but our destination was the same. Once we neared Valframbert then we would be using just three roads. Warbands would combine. Six would become three. One would be from the north and west. One from the north and east and one from the south. We would keep the three warbands separate. I would lead the one from the north and east and we would approach Alençon. In a perfect world, the burghers would welcome us as allies but I doubted that outcome. It was more likely that they would bar their gates and try to hold us off. The town had a wall but it was wooden and the stronghold was not a daunting one.