by Griff Hosker
Bagsecg and his men took three days to scout out the enemy positions. His news was not good. “Apart from this King Robert they have the Duke of Burgundy, Hugh, Duke of Paris, and Gilbert, the son of the Duke of Lorraine. They have more than sixteen thousand men.”
Sámr nodded, “We have been outnumbered before.”
I nodded, “Aye but not with such poor allies. Give me some good news.”
“Would that I could, my lord. It looks to me like their best warriors will be gathered about the hill fort. The standard of Robert of Neustria is there along with the standard of Lorraine and Burgundy.”
“Horses?”
“Their mounted men guard the southern flank of the hill fort. The rest of the army is to the north.”
“Thank you.”
Sámr asked, “We still fight?”
“I told the King we would but this news may make him reconsider.”
When I entered the feasting hall it was as though we had won already. Hagano was nothing if not optimistic. The wine had flowed. All conversation stopped as I entered. They were about to have a sobering awakening when I gave my news.
I waited until I had their attention. “The scouts have returned. There are more than sixteen thousand men opposing us. You face Franks, as well as the men of Lorraine and Burgundy.” I gave them all the news at once, including the dispositions. I used the chess pieces which were on the table to show them, graphically, the size of the problem.
They stood and studied it. Ideas were thrown back and forth. I could see that they did not want to attack. I wondered if peace would be made and we could return home. That would suit us. I would have fulfilled my oath to the King and we could make war, once more, on our neighbours. Of course, it might be better if those neighbours were weakened by war but we would grow and they would diminish no matter what happened.
Hagano was back and even Count Fulbert deferred to him. He spoke and I saw that gullible King Charles still believed the man who had lost him his kingdom. “I can see a way to defeat them, Highness. We know that their horsemen are to the south and the strength is on the hill. I say we use our best warriors, the Count of Normandy’s horsemen, to neutralize the Neustrian horse. Then if the Norman's advance can attract the attention of Robert of Neustria, we can attack their weaker right flank and wheel around to take them in the rear.”
It was masterful. All of the losses would be Norman and the victory would go to Hagano and Fulbert.
Count Fulbert smiled at me, “And that would suit you, Robert of Normandy, for you would be leading your own men.”
“And taking the losses!”
“Are you afraid?” He had become bold and overconfident now that Hagano had returned.
I drew Long Sword and laid it on the table, demolishing the chess pieces, “Count Fulbert, I have had enough of you. Apologize or draw your sword and we settle this here and now!”
The Count physically recoiled, “I meant nothing! I apologize! Let us not fight amongst ourselves. That is what the enemy wants!”
Sheathing my sword, I said, “I came to honour my oath. I can see it is a waste of time. I will return to Normandy. Fight this war yourself.” It was not petulance. I meant it at the time.
I saw fear on the faces of all. The King shook his head, “Clear the room. I would speak with Count Robert alone!” In all the time I knew him it was the most decisive act I remember him taking. They obeyed the King and shuffled out. When we were alone he pleaded with me, “Robert, I need you.”
I shook my head, “These men are cowards and not to be trusted. If you listen to them you might lose your life as well as your crown.”
“And that is why I am happier if you attack Robert of Neustria. You are the only one who can defeat him.” He saw my cynical look, “This is not flattery, Robert. You have never lost a battle. The one Viking we all feared was Rollo. Robert of Neustria will be terrified of you. Yes, you will face more than half the enemy army but that gives my other lords the chance to win the battle. I know that your men are worth four of any other contingent in my army.” I was not convinced and my face showed it. “I give you the title of Duke and I will pay five thousand pounds in silver for your men.”
It was not the silver which convinced me, it was the title, “And the title goes to my son when I die?”
“Of course.”
“In front of your lords?” He nodded. “I am still not confident but I will do as you ask. I do it for you, King Charles, and not these faint-hearted follies who call themselves lords.”
He called in his lords and told them that I had agreed and that my reward was Duke of Normandy. Their faces showed their distaste and contempt for both me and King Charles. It was not the best way to prepare for a battle. I should have had him give me the title in writing. Later there would be men who said he did not give me the title but as his successor denied me the title the point is moot. I sent the treasure back to Rouen along with a letter for my son. If I perished, and it was likely I would, then I wanted William to have the silver and the title.
With the news delivered, the silver and letter sent on their way, we prepared for battle. Secretly Hagano, Fulbert and the other lords hoped I would die along with all of my men. They believed that we would but that we would kill so many of the opposition that they would win. They were Christians. They did not hear the Norns spinning.
Chapter 12
We attacked two days later. The other leaders were happy for us to do so. In the short time, we were there, forty men deserted. None were my men. King Robert could squat upon his hill and watch our men seep away. We had to attack. Hagano and Fulbert organised what I thought of as the King’s battle. I organised my own attack. My men were happy to be fighting uphill against overwhelming numbers. It was in their nature. When I told them of the silver we had been paid, they were even happier. I did not plan on throwing away the lives of my brave warriors. We were a diversion. I was confident in the ability of Bagsecg to drive the enemy horse from the field. My plan was simple. I would use my archers to disrupt the men who faced us. Bagsecg had told us that they would be crossbowmen. Our archers took pavise for protection. When they retreated, they would drop them and we would march across them. A pavise could not be carried. It was too big. It was braced with two lengths of wood. The enemy did not have as many mailed men as we did. King Robert had a hard core of veterans and the rest was made up of his lords and their villagers. We would advance steadily up the hill. This would buy King Charles’ men as much time as possible to get into position to attack. We would employ the variation on the boar’s snout formation. I would use my lords to each lead their own wedge. Each wedge and snout would be made up of hearth weru. The rest of the men would be in three ranks. They were good warriors and at least half were mailed but they were not the elite who would lead. Once they had made their first attack the archers and slingers would follow us up the hill and send their arrows over our heads.
The King and his advisers had asked us to begin the attack. I did not mind. It did not suit me to stand and wait to fight. We marched to our starting position beyond the range of crossbows and I had the horn sounded. Bagsecg and his horsemen charged towards the enemy horsemen. The Frankish horse had not expected an attack which had any kind of order. Barbarians fought without order. Erik Gillesson had learned the art of war from his father, Gilles. He, in turn, had learned from Alain of Auxerre. Bagsecg’s men fought in regimented lines. The Franks took so long to face them that Bagsecg’s men hit them while they were still forming. At the same time, my archers and slingers sent arrows and stones at the crossbowmen who were guilty of watching the fight to their left. The initiative went to my archers and slingers. The pavise prevented too many losses to my archers. When the crossbowmen fled my archers switched targets. The men of Lorraine took four flights and then began to advance towards us. They had little choice for those four flights slew many men and the warriors of Lorraine were wavering. Their Duke ordered their advance. It was our moment to strike. I had the horn
sounded three times and my archers disengaged. We opened ranks for them and then, as they passed through, I began the chant. It was an old one. My grandfather had used it and it seemed appropriate.
The Clan of the Horse march to war
See their spears and hear them roar
The Clan of the Horse with bloody blades
Their roaring means you will be shades
Clan of the Horse Hrolf’s best men
Clan of the Horse death comes again
Leading Vikings up the Frankish Water
They brought death they brought slaughter
Taking slaves, swords and gold
The Clan of the Horse were the most bold
Clan of the Horse Hrolf’s best men
Clan of the Horse death comes again
Fear us Franks we are the best
Fighting us a fatal test
We come for land to make our own
To give young Vikings not yet grown
Clan of the Horse Hrolf’s best men
Clan of the Horse death comes again
Clan of the Horse Hrolf’s best men
Clan of the Horse death comes again
It helped us to march. I was protected by Robert and Leif. They were just behind me. The wedge to my right was led by Harold Mighty Fist and the one to my left by Sámr Oakheart. Bjorn was further right. The charging men of Lorraine could not stop. They careered into our line. I swung my sword and hacked through three spears and the belly of one man. Leif and Robert speared the other two and my sword swung again. More men were struck. My sword broke limbs as well as opening flesh and severing mail. The chant helped my rhythm. A Neustrian horn sounded and the survivors of their impromptu attack fell back. In the time it took to recall them a hundred men had fallen. It was not just our swords and spears which had harvested bodies, our archers and slingers had sent missiles over our heads. The enemy leaders should have pulled them back beyond the front line. Men who have been broken do not fight well. Instead, they tried to force them to turn and face us again. I saw their lords beating men into line. Their fear spread amongst the men who had yet to fight. The enemy line was falling back up the hill for we were steadily advancing. We were not moving quickly but steadily and inexorably. I watched them move back to another of the ancient grass covered ramparts. We had gained a hundred paces of their defences. That was more than I had expected. We had two hundred paces now between us and an enemy
King Charles’ horn sounded. The main part of King Charles’ army was beginning its attack. We kept marching up the hill. We had the rhythm and we were able to stop singing. Instead, the men beat their shields with the shafts of their spears. The sound seemed to roll around the hillside and echo. It intimidated those we faced. The men of Burgundy and Lorraine had rarely faced Vikings. They had heard of us. The thought of berserkers filled them with fear. It had been many years since I had witnessed it but the idea of it was terrifying. Add to that the sight of an ancient giant who seemed immortal and the number of men who began to flee was understandable. We kept moving up the hill. Their crossbows were now behind their shields and they could not send their bolts at us. The ramparts and ditches had not been sharpened. They had not seeded them. Over the years they had become less of a defensive feature and they caused us little trouble We had more trouble negotiating the dead bodies.
We had our own battle to fight. The King and his men had the easier task and Bagsecg and his men were off chasing horsemen. We would fight any who were before us and try to get as far up the hill as we could. I had no doubt that we would be stopped at some point. I risked glancing down the line. We still had all the wedges largely intact. I knew that some of those in the front rank would have fallen but their places would have been taken by others. Ahead of us, I saw that the men of Neustria were reforming their line. The fleeing men had taken others with them. Robert of Neustria was taking no chances. He was filling his front rank with mailed men. He was using his lords. He was gambling that his lords were better than the barbarian warriors who marched towards him. We would soon discover the truth of that. King Robert faced Harold Mighty Fist and his wedge. I know not if the King had chosen to move when he saw he faced me but my wedge was heading towards a Burgundian lord and his bodyguards. They held swords. They were long swords but not as long as the one I wielded. Arrows and stones flew from behind me. My men sent their missiles far enough ahead to miss us. They had the effect of making the enemy look to their defence rather than adding their weight to the line.
We had climbed a long way and our legs were tiring. My arms were not yet weary and I raised my sword above me. I brought it back until it touched the helmet of Hugo the son of the Corn Chandler. I let it rest there as we plodded the last few steps to the waiting Burgundians. I heard cries and the clash of steel as the rest of our line struck theirs. I think the Burgundians must have taken a step back. I brought my sword over my head from behind me. The advantage of such a stroke is that the warrior receiving the blow knows not where it will land. It could split his skull, hit his sword arm or his shield arm. As the Burgundian shield came up to his left, I switched my strike to his right. He made a belated attempt to block it with his sword but failed. My sword drove his mail links into his shoulder. The blade continued down, severing his arm. The men at his side tried to stab me with their own weapons. Their swords did not reach me for Leif and Robert thrust their spears into them and we had broken their front rank.
There were more ranks for us to deal with but the fact that they had put their best warriors in the front rank meant that the next ones we faced had weaker armour. As our wedge punched the hole deep into their line the bulk of my bodyguards laid about them and they carved a bloody line through the Burgundians. I heard a cheer from the side. The Neustrians had had a victory. It did not matter. We were winning this part of the battle. That was all a warrior could do. If we had lost the rest of the battle then, eventually we would be surrounded and slain but at that moment, with the top of the hill less than one hundred paces from us, the Normans were winning and that was all that counted.
They thrust their spears at me but I swung my sword and it splintered the shafts. The three men whose spears had just disappeared looked at me in horror. I reversed my swing and this time it was not wood I hewed but flesh. One had his arm half severed. Another had his guts laid open and the last his face torn open. As Leif and Robert stepped forward two of them perished and the third ran. Their only chance was to stop me but I was bigger than any other warrior and I was well mailed. My wedge and I were through two of the lines and the third awaited us. I saw that some of these were Franks. They wore leather mail and had oval shields. Again, three of them stabbed at me. I hit two of the spears but the third gouged a line across my cheek. As his bloody spear came away, he cheered. My sword ended the cheer when it bit into his neck. The blood spatter showered the other two and they ran.
Leif shouted, “Harold Mighty Fist has fallen. Robert of Neustria has slain him. There was nothing between us and the rear of the enemy line but I was honour bound to turn to my right. Harold Mighty Fist had been one of my lords. I shouted, “Sámr, continue the attack. I go to Harold Mighty Fist!”
“Do not worry, lord. I am getting into my rhythm.”
As we swung to face the Neustrians, our wedge disintegrated. It had done its job. The bodyguards of Robert of Neustria swung around to face our threat. The years of training had paid off for even as I raised my sword for a scything swing both Robert and Leif had blocked the sword blows from Neustrian warriors and hacked, as Egil had taught them, across the unprotected thighs of these elite warriors. Their swords were well made and blood spurted. I brought my sword around. My height meant my normal swing was from on high down to low. Men expected a more horizontal strike from their enemies and their shields were, usually, slow to rise. The Neustrian lord I attacked was one such warrior. His shield barely rose as my sword chopped into his arm. Some of the men I led bore axes and they wreaked a terrible toll for they struck shields whi
ch were not as well made as ours. They shattered shields and broke limbs. I heard orders shouted as we carved our way through to Robert of Neustria.
Against the odds, we were winning. I did not know the price we had paid but we had almost captured the man who would take King Charles’ throne. Then I heard a shout from ahead. It was the voice of Bjorn the Brave, “Our horsemen come!” Then I thought the battle almost won. I heard the Norns spinning and I knew that I had to end this by taking or killing Robert of Neustria.
“Reform!”
If Bagsecg and his men were coming then they would be arriving from behind the Neustrians. We had to stop Robert of Neustria and his men joining up with those fighting King Charles. We were a thin line between them. My depleted hearth weru formed up next to me. This sometimes happened in the most chaotic battle. Men stopped. They breathed and they sought new enemies. I spied Robert of Neustria. He wore a high domed helmet with a nasal. He had good mail and a long oval shield. His sword was a good one but not as long as mine. As I raised Long Sword, I saw the bloodied and hacked body of Harold Mighty Fist. He and his hearth weru had had a good death. I saw his sons, who had hurled stones in the battle of Paris, lying close by. They had died with their father. I felt strength rush into my tired arms. I owed it to the dead to end this well.