by Griff Hosker
“No!” My voice was louder than I had intended.
“But lord, you are unwell.”
“I have no wound and I am still Duke. You follow my orders. We have almost reached the river. A night march will bring us close enough to smell the water. My son needs the men who follow us. It matters not if I die. Normandy is all!” My face dared them to argue. I softened my voice. I had been frightened and they were terrified. “You have all trusted me and followed me for many years. Continue to do so.” They were unhappy about it but they obeyed my orders. When we left to continue our march, I noticed that they were all so close to me that, had I had another incident I would not have been able to fall.
We were just four miles from the river when trouble found us. All were exhausted but I had been right. We could smell the river. It was the third hour of the day and we had walked further than any warband I could remember. I was proud of them. We were, however, caught. We were trapped by our enemies. Bagsecg’s men reported two armies. One was marching west, along the river from Paris, and the other was following us down the road. Bagsecg said, “Lord, we will charge them and buy us time. You might reach the river.”
I think they thought I was having another attack for I did not answer. My mind was working.
“Lord? Are you well?”
“Yes, Sámr. Have our ten best axemen hew down the biggest trees and block the road. Bagsecg, send your men to the river. Find our ships. I want every archer to run to the river! They are to prepare defences. We will also run.”
“Lord, you are unwell! You cannot run!”
“No Bjorn! I am not. Obey me!” The horsemen and the archers took off and disappeared down the road. I pointed south. “I will stay here with my bodyguard and the axemen. Sámr, take the rest. You are all faster than I am. Prepare defences. If we are to die let us make them bleed.” I was not yet ready to die. The attack in the night had merely made me realise that I had little time left in this world. If I was marked for death I would not go meekly. I would fight death as I had fought my enemies. As they left, albeit reluctantly, I pointed to the trees, “Go, Robert, take our men. Help the axemen. They can go through the woods but they will be slowed up. Use anything as a barrier.” I smiled at him, “This rest will do me good!”
My men worked frantically and soon the first tree came down. When it did it accelerated the fall of the others for there were more axemen now chopping fewer tees. Robert and my men were helping by jamming fallen branches between them when the six enemy scouts rode down the road. My young warriors were on the other side of the barrier. This would be the first time they had fought when I was not there to command them. I was proud of them. Rather than allowing the scouts to run off the fifteen of them charged the six scouts. It took the Franks by surprise. Five were hacked from their horses but the sixth turned and started to gallop off. Leif took a Frankish sword and threw it, like a throwing knife. The Norns spun or the gods guided his hand, I know not which but the sword struck him in the back. They grabbed the reins of the horses and led them through the woods. I shouted, “Leave the trees. That will have to do. It will slow them down. Now we run.”
Robert ran to me leading two horses. They were small. “And you ride lord!”
“My feet will dangle and the horse will not last long!”
“Lord, do not argue. Mount. Let us worry about the horses.”
When I sat on the back of the horse my feet reached the ground. I lifted them behind me and Robert slapped the horse. It could not gallop but it moved as fast as the young warriors who ran next to us leading the other five horses in case I needed them. It was an undignified way to ride but I had to confess that had I tried to run then we would have been caught. The horse collapsed just half a mile from where I saw the shields of my men. I ran the last half mile.
Sámr smiled, as they parted to let me through. There was a double line of men and, behind them were archers. There was a beach just fifty paces from us. If our ships arrived, we could board them easily. “That was a sight to behold, lord.”
I grunted, “And the drekar?”
“No sign of them yet, Duke The scouts say Rudolf leads the men from Paris. They are a mile away. Bjorn the Brave and his war band wait with archers. Bagsecg has secreted his men in the woods. They cannot use their horses to attack but the warriors can attack on foot.”
Was it going to end here on the river I had raided for so many years before I was given Normandy? Despite the attack in the night, I did not believe so. I donned my helmet and drew Long Sword. When we had been in Compiegne, I had had it sharpened. I was ready to sell my failing body dearly. I heard the battle to my right. I could see nothing for Sámr had chosen a place we could defend using the trees and the undergrowth. What had happened to our drekar? Since we had been away had someone taken advantage and attacked us? I had a sudden sickening thought that this was the opportunity Count Arnulf might have been waiting for. Then I was forced to stop my worrying. I heard hooves as the men of Neustria came galloping down the road.
Sámr took command, “Archers wait on my command.” We had taken spears from Compiegne and they formed a hedgehog barrier. The riders reined in. Sámr waited until there were forty horsemen milling just a hundred and fifty paces from us. Their hesitation cost them dearly. Thirty arrows descended and then another thirty. By the time ninety arrows had been loosed, there were twenty-two empty saddles and the survivors rode north. The next time they came they would be prepared. They would march behind shields. They would have crossbows ready to send their bolts into my weary warriors. That was time for my ships to reach me.
One of Bjorn the Brave’s sons ran up, “Lord, my father says they have increasing numbers.”
I nodded, “Galmr, take your warband and aid Bjorn. If you have to then fall back to us. If we are marked to die this day, we will do it together.”
William and Berenger Bjornson grinned. William said, “Not this day lord! We did not run this far to be butchered by Franks!”
I heard horns from ahead. Sámr began to reorganise the lines of men. A wall of shields appeared. They were Swabians. These were swordsmen and they were good. This time the arrows would have little effect. The Swabians were mailed and they had good helmets and shields. I shouted, “Save your arrows for flesh.”
The small saplings which had been cut down and laid across the road were not there as a barrier, they were there as a trap. Sámr knew the difficulties of keeping a straight line while walking on logs. A man could slip or trip and bring down men who relied on a solid line to make their attack. I held my sword above my head. The spears of my men would distract the Swabians from the logs. As soon as they came in range I roared, “Clan of the Horse!” and I swung my sword. A line of thirty spears jabbed out and there were cries from our left as Bagsecg led his men to the attack. I was lucky, the Swabian whom I struck had just slipped. He had his arms spread as he tried to regain his balance. Long Sword tore through his mail and ripped open his chest. Our spears found faces and gaps. Blades and spears plunged through mail into flesh. Axes hewed men as easily as trees. Bagsecg’s men achieved complete surprise. They fell like demons on the flanks of our enemies and the attack faltered. Inevitably, Bagsecg’s men were forced back but we had blunted their attack.
“Bagsecg, fall back! You have done all that you needed to.”
The enemy reformed. Sámr shook his head, “That trick will not work a second time.”
I stuck my sword in the soft soil. “Then we will find another. Have the wounded taken to the beach.”
John the son of the Miller had a badly cut arm. He shook his head, “I can still fight lord.”
“Aye, and you can still obey orders. Have your wounds tended and if we need you, we will send for you.”
As he was taken away Sámr said, “We have bred a new type of warrior lord. The jarl in our fjord would not recognise these young men who wear no beards and speak so strangely.”
I laughed, “Aye, Sámr, we are the relics of the past. We have passe
d on what we know about war and this is good. Your sons are the same. We have done our job. Now it is time for our sons to take over.”
“I know.”
“They come again!”
I drew my sword from the soil and stood to face the next wave of attackers. I saw that this time, they were using the woods on the sides as cover and to spread their attack. They were no longer using the road. They would not risk an attack by Bagsecg and his men. I was glad I had withdrawn them. Of course, it meant that we would be attacked from the side as well as from the north. This time they ran and held their shields above them. They were watching their footing. Some of our spears had been shattered and the enemy would get closer to us this time. It could not be helped. These were a mixture of warriors. There were a handful of Swabians wielding their swords and there were the men of Lorraine and Burgundians too. Each followed their own lord. These men had volunteered. With a new king on the throne, a heroic gesture and the head of the Count of Normandy could go a long way to securing an important fief.
I still knew how to time my swing and I began swinging when the enemy warriors were three paces from us. This might be my last fight and there was no point in holding back. I put every ounce of strength into the swing. The blow went from high to low. My sword hit one man in the neck and, as the swing continued, hit the jaw of the man behind. He just walked into Long Sword and the sword sliced through his mouth. His hands dropped his weapon as he put them to his slashed face and Robert rammed his spear into his chest. I reversed my swing and brought my sword up. It hacked through the arm of a man holding a pole weapon. Leif had an easy kill for the man was now weaponless. In the centre, we were winning. On the flanks, I heard closer fought combat as my less experienced warriors engaged our enemies. The sounds of fighting to our right grew louder as William, Berenger and Bjorn were forced back. It was a measured retreat. It was not like the battle of Soissons where the Neustrians had dropped weapons and fled.
Sámr shouted, “We need to fall back, lord.”
He was right and I gave the command, “Step back!” The command was understood by all. We all stepped back on our right legs. None fell and when the enemy rushed at us, they slipped, tripped and sprawled on their own dead. I used my sword to stab down, through the helmet and into the skull of a prostrate Swabian and then, withdrawing Long Sword, stepped back. We moved back ten paces and lost not a man! There were now many wounded on the beach. Petr, who was my best archer, shouted, “Lord, we are running out of arrows.”
“Then take the weapons from the dead and join the shield wall. We are Normans and we do not surrender.”
Sámr turned and held out his arm, “It has been an honour to follow you, Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson. We will meet again in Valhalla!”
I clasped his arm but shook my head, “Do not be in a hurry to get there, Sámr Oakheart. They have lost more men than we have. While we live then there is hope.”
Mauger laughed, “Aye lord, I have much still to do in Djupr. This little war has been an inconvenience. Let us send them back to Neustria and we can make our strongholds stronger!” With men like that fighting behind me, we could not lose.
Ahead of us horns sounded and the enemy rushed towards us. I raised my sword. My shoulders ached. I was feeling my age. Robert and Leif still stood close by me. If I lived, I would make them lords. They deserved nothing less. Then I heard a sound in the distance which filled me with hope. I heard a cheer from downriver. That was Bagsecg. Then I heard a murmur which grew to a chant.
Skuld the Dark sails on shadows wings
Skuld the Dark is a ship that sings
With soft, gentle voice of a powerful witch
Her keel will glide through Frankia’s ditch
With flowing hair and fiery breath
Skuld the Dark will bring forth death
Though small in size her heart is great
The Norn who decides on man’s final fate
Skuld the Dark sails on shadows wings
Skuld the Dark is a sorcerous ship that sweetly sings
Skuld the Dark sails on shadows wings
Skuld the Dark is a sorcerous ship that sweetly sings
Skuld the Dark sails on shadows wings
Skuld the Dark is a sorcerous ship that sweetly sings
The witch’s reach is long and her eyes can see through mist
Her teeth are sharp and grind your bones to grist
With soft, gentle voice of a powerful witch
Her keel will glide through Frankia’s ditch
With flowing hair and fiery breath
Skuld the Dark will bring forth death
Though small in size her heart is great
The Norn who decides on man’s final fate
Skuld the Dark sails on shadows wings
Skuld the Dark is a sorcerous ship that sweetly sings
Skuld the Dark sails on shadows wings
Skuld the Dark is a sorcerous ship that sweetly sings
The witch’s reach is long and her eyes can see through mist
Her teeth are sharp and grind your bones to grist
It was the sound of men rowing up the river! Erik Leifsson was coming with my drekar. Would he reach us in time? “Our ships are here! We hold on for a short while! Have courage, Clan of the Horse!” My men gave an almighty cheer and then the enemy hit us. I was swinging my sword when they were three paces away. I did not have many swings left in me. My sword still managed to knock one warrior into the path of another and Sámr and Robert skewered the two men. Another tripped over the body of a fallen Burgundian and I laid his back open. My fingers suddenly failed me and I could not grip my sword with two hands. My right hand did not feel like my own. As my sword dropped, I ripped my seax from my scabbard. If I had to fight one handed then I would so. Suddenly arrows flew from behind us and began to descend into the enemy. One lunged at me. His sword struck my mail. I could not move my right side and I felt the sword slice into my flesh. I had strength in my left hand and I ripped my seax across his throat and then I felt my face burning again. All sound disappeared. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. I was dying, I was going to Valhalla and I gripped my seax with all the strength I had left. My right leg gave way and I felt the weight of my mail pull me to the ground. I could not stop it. It felt like the time I had fallen from the drekar. I was drowning but I was not in the water. I saw faces around me. Robert, Sámr and Bjorn were speaking with me but I heard not a word. I tried to speak but I could not and then I felt blackness begin to creep, slowly across my eyes. All was black.
Chapter 14
I dreamed.
I saw my grandmother. She was with Hrólfr the Horseman. They were both smiling at me. Their faces disappeared and I saw my father. He rose from the sea. His face was covered in blood and he was wounded but he, too, smiled at me. Was this Valhalla? It could not be for my grandmother was a Frank and not a warrior. Perhaps women did go to Valhalla. Warriors would need women. Then I realised that she was not a Viking either. She had been a good woman and she would be in the White Christ’s heaven. I saw my grandfather’s mouth moving. I could not hear him. I had taken my affliction to the Otherworld. Then I heard his familiar voice. “It is not your time. Wake. It is not your time. You must wake. This is not your time. You must move!”
I tried to stir and then the voice changed and became Sámr’s, “He moves! He is waking!”
I opened my eyes and saw I was in my chamber in Rouen. I moved my right hand. The affliction had gone. I could move my limbs. I could hear. I tried to speak, “How long?” I had a voice. Was I healed?
Father Harold came into view and there was another dressed in priestly robes. Father Harold spoke, “Lie still, my lord. You have lain like this for two days. We thought you dead.”
The other priest sniffed and said, confidently, “I did not think he was dead!” His hand suddenly descended and he used his finger and thumb to open my eye wide. He peered into it. He seemed satisfied with what he saw and he nodded, �
�Count Robert.”
“Duke.” I forced the word through dried and cracked lips.
He sighed, “Titles! Duke Robert, I am Doctor Erasmus. I am Greek. I was on my way back from Jorvik when you were brought in. I think I might have saved your life.”
“Then I thank you. What was it that tried to kill me? Was it a wound?”
“The wound in your side is nothing. If you want to know what was trying to kill you it is your body. I have not cured you. One day you will suffer another such attack and it may be fatal.” He looked at me, “Your face burned? You could not move? You could neither hear nor speak?”
“Aye, how did you know? Are you a galdramenn?”
He looked at Father Harold who smiled, “A witch.”
He snorted, “I am a man of science. I have seen your condition in others. There is no cure. You will have more such attacks until you have one which will end your life. You need more rest than I think you have been taking. You cannot go to war again. Your men say that you have seen more than seventy summers?”
“I believe so.”
“Then God has granted you extra years. Use them to enjoy life. You are a rich man. Live like one.” He stood. “And now I must board the ship.”
“Have you been paid?”
He nodded, “Of course! A king’s ransom.” He smiled, “I am worth it!”
With that, he left. I liked him. He was arrogant but he was honest and seemed to know his business. He had known what only I truly knew. I was dying. I suppose I had known it. I would not live the life of a rich man. I was still Duke of Normandy and I had a Dukedom to rule. I sat up. “So, Sámr, what happened after I fell?”
“With the crews of the drekar, we drove the enemy from the field. We made a longphort and Bagsecg and his horsemen drove their captured horses across the river. We took the treasure and the mail from the dead and we returned here.”