David the Prince - Scotland 03 (20 page)

"Would they do that? For you?"

"Not for me - for themselves. Will you do it?"

"Oh, yes - I will do it. Since I have been itching to do something of the sort for long. Whether the rest do, or no
,
is
your
concern, Earl Davie! When do we march?"

It was as easy as that. David had set out from Caer-luel anticipating having to work hard and long to gain agreement for his project. He leaned back relieved. Details could be worked out later.

* * *

Five weeks later, on the Eve of St. Clement, a chill day of late November, almost too late for practical campaigning, David's Cumbrian force met Fergus and his Galwegians at Dumfries. Fergus was better than his word, he and Dunegal between them producing well over five thousand men, a fierce-looking horde, well-armed if unruly and certainly with no appearance of being the scrapings of any barrel. For his part David also had improved on his predictions, for with the Earl Cospatrick of Dunbar and March, who had gladly joined in the venture with four hundred Border moss-troopers, he had brought three thousand. Dolfin had come along too, less enthusiastic than his brother, and though little acquisition militarily, adherence had its own value for he was popular with the Cumbrians. So the combined force made a quite impressive army of over eight thousand.

But combined force was perhaps scarcely the phrase to apply. Even that first night at Dumfries, trouble broke out, Galloway kerns fighting with Borderers and Cumbrians, Normans assailed by all and sundry, and the unfortunate locals of Dumfries anyone's prey. Fergus did not seem to be greatly perturbed at this, possibly because his people were greatly in the majority, but also, clearly, because this was normal campaigning behaviour, mere high spirits unavoidable in a host of fighting-men of any worth. David however was much concerned, angered, and insisted on order being restored and maintained, using his chain-mailed and mounted Norman knights to exert heavy-handed discipline, and reproaching Fergus for his attitude. To mollify his boyhood friend rather than out of any sense of duty apparently, the Lord of Carrick thereafter summarily hanged a dozen of his Gallowaymen, selected evidently at random, hoisting the corpses at various corners of the unhappy town where the cowering inhabitants would be apt to see them by the light of their flaming hovels. Almost as upset by this as he was by the rioting and looting itself, David urged no further punishment, and meted out none himself, other than that inflicted by the flats of Norman swords. It all made for a disturbed night.

By morning David had changed his plans. The army must be divided, he decided. Fortunately this would be effective enough strategically; and there were two routes to their goal at Kirk Cuthbert's Town, on the Dee estuary, where Hakon Claw had his headquarters - that is, north-about and south-about around the mountain-mass of Criffel. The larger force, under Fergus, would advance by the Urr and Carlingwark Loch to the Dee valley, whilst David would take the Cumbrians, men of Teviotdale and the Merse and the cavalry, by the Solway coast. They would keep in close touch, for the two hosts would never be more than a dozen miles apart, although high ground would separate them. Hakon Claw would no doubt be informed of the approach of both armies.
It
would be interesting to see his reactions.

Fergus had no objections. In fact, David had the impression that he might even be relieved, to have any restrictions on his command and people's behaviour removed. It was only about thirty-five miles to Kirk Cuthbert's Town, by both routes. They allowed themselves three days — for non-mounted hosts could not move much faster, in large numbers, however galling this might be for the horsed men. Besides, timing was of the essence in David's planning. Olaf Morsel of Man - or at least that youth's advisers - had agreed to make a demonstration, as far as they were concerned. Which meant that Hakon's longships should not actually put to sea to give battle. The Manxmen would show themselves off the mouth of St. Cuthbert's Bay and seem to threaten - but that was all. That was to be in three days time. So the Orkneymen must by then be so concerned over the near approach of the land armies that they would not risk dividing their forces and sending out their longships. David had to time this exactly, or the Orkneymen might sally out, and the Manxmen turn for home, with nothing achieved.

So his mixed company marched south-eastwards, skirting the high ground, towards the Solway shore with all its deep indentations and shallow tidal bays. It was difficult country, with much marshland, mud and scrub forest, and practically empty, with everywhere signs of Norse raiding from the sea. The various sections of the force, Normans, Cumbrians and Borderers, kept well separate, and camped those two nights almost a mile apart. There were no occupied villages or townships to tempt looters and ravishers. David was learning the lessons of command; strategy was not all.

They glimpsed the Manx fleet on the evening of the second day, as the grey November dusk was falling - or at least an assembly of about forty longships and birlinns heading north by east, perhaps three miles offshore. No identifications were possible, at that range and light; but the vessels seemed to be in no hurry, and were probably the Manxmen.

That evening later, when they were camped on the blunt peninsula of Dundrennan, between Auchencairn and St. Cuthbert's Bay, the first messenger arrived from Fergus -although David had sent three northwards. He informed cheerfully that all was going well with the Carrick-Strathnith array. Indeed very well, for they had had two skirmishes with the enemy and beaten them soundly both times. In token whereof the Lord Fergus sent his old friend a golden Norse-type bracelet, of snakes eating each other's tails—still encrusted with blood where it had been hacked off the victim's forearm -indicative of the quality of the defeated. They were making excellent progress, likewise, and were considerably further ahead than anticipated - which, of course, was not the objective either. David fretted somewhat.

Next forenoon the southern force had their first sighting of the enemy, a small mounted party, which made off westwards at speed when they saw how large a host there was. The Norman cavalry, spoiling for action, would have given chase, but David said no. They
wanted
the news of their presence to reach Hakon Claw. Why interfere with his couriers?

Presently from another and lesser headland they saw the fleet of ships rowing up and down at the mouth of St. Cuthbert's Bay. It seemed that all was going according to plan.

St Cuthbert's Bay runs inland for about seven miles, to merge into the estuary of the Dee. David's force now turned inland, well back from the salt water. They were about halfway towards Kirk Cuthbert's Town, still with no appearance of the Orkneymen, other than an occasional watching mounted figure, when David realised that all was
not,
in fact, going according to plan. There was a chill north-easterly breeze, and on it, distant but clear, was borne the sounds of battle, large-scale clash.

It could only be Fergus and Dunegal arrived too soon and engaging or being engaged by Hakon Claw on their own, which was folly. A pitched battle was what David sought to avoid. One of the guides Fergus had lent him declared that the fighting sounded as though it must be coming from the Dunrod area, the valley of the Dunrod Burn, some three miles away. David considered sending a swift mounted party to go and bring him word of the situation, then decided to save time by going himself. Leaving the Earl Cospatrick in command, with orders to bring on the force at best speed, he rode off with a few companions.

It
was good to be riding fast and free after days of footmen's-pace dawdling, however dire the emergency. Over a series of low grassy ridges, with scrub and bog in the intervening shallow hollows, they went, the noise of conflict growing ever louder and more sustained, the ring and clash of steel and the shouts and yells and screams of men, a human storm which was almost the more tangible for being unseen.

Presently they topped a higher ridge to overlook a wider, truer valley beyond, with more major hills rising behind - these having acted as back-cloth to project the sounds of the battle southwards. From the ridge, all was apparent. The valley-floor was an indescribable chaos of struggling, bawling, groaning men in their thousands, and flashing, flailing steel. There was no recognisable front line, only two noticeably denser, more concentrated groupings in the midst, a fair way apart, undoubtedly the respective leadership parties. There were no standards or banners, no command-posts, no vanguards or rearguards, only countless individual hand-to-hand conflicts, of large groups and small, men battling it out without regard to any other tactics than skill with weapons, brute strength, untiring muscles and sheer blood-lust - and courage.

"A rabble!" Hugo de Morville exclaimed disgustedly. "A barbarous melee, no more!" Such elemental battering ran counter to all Norman notions of warfare.

"How can they even tell who is winning?" Hervey demanded. "Until a sufficient number of one side flees? Or until only a few are left alive and heads counted?"

David was not concerned with that aspect of the battle so much as that the leadership could not be picked out nor reached. "A plague on Fergus!" he muttered. "I want to talk with Hakon Claw. How can I, in this broil? He will not so much as perceive us!"

"If we rode down? Even so few of us. A charge. We might do something. Hearten Fergus," Hugo suggested. "At least make our presence known to Hakon Claw."

"No. We would but be lost in the strife. This nine of us would make no difference. We would be fighting for our lives. Never win near to Hakon. And Fergus needs no heartening, I vow!"

"What can we do then?"

"We can only wait. And hope that Cospatrick comes up quickly. Our host drawn up here would surely give even Hakon Claw pause." David sent a young knight back to hasten on the following force, if that was possible.

To sit their horses on the ridge and watch that bloody strife was an extraordinary experience, frustrating as it was exciting for spirited young men, with every instinct urging them to take part, to move forcefully to the aid of their friends. It was galling, too, not to be able to tell, as Hervey predicted, even which side was in the ascendant. The ebb and flow of the struggle was no more consistent or informative, seen from up here, than the swirlings in a cauldron. All that could be seen was that while the Orkneymen were constantly being reinforced from the west, from the Kirk Cuthbert's Town direction, although not in any large numbers, the attacking host was not, Fergus evidently having thrown in his full strength from the first. Not that there was any impression given of him being forced back or overwhelmed.

The
waiting seemed endless, although it cannot have been much more than half-an-hour before their own army hove in sight, for they had left it only three miles back. But at last something might be achieved, and hopefully, not too late, with the battle appearing to be no more certainly decided than when first they viewed it, however many men had died meantime.

David and his companions spurred back to their force, to shout orders. The entire host was to form up along this ridge, by troops and companies and squadrons, spread out lengthwise to give the appearance of greater numbers still. All Norman cavalry to ride back and forth before the ranks with banners. That, and great sustained shouting. And a large white flag, brought for the purpose, to be unwrapped and hoisted in the centre, above all.

This maneouvre proceeding, it was difficult at first to assess the effect on the struggling masses below. However preoccupied with their grim activities, even the most dedicated fighters must glance up sometimes, surely? Especially the leaders. And the rhythmic shouting from thousands of fresh throats must surely penetrate the hubbub?

"If Fergus would but draw back a little, disengage . . ."

"How can he?"

"Fling our whole array down upon them, Davie. Sweep all of the field, friend and foe alike!" Hervey urged. "Our fresh forces will finish off this unseemly affray."

"No, I say! That is not the way. I want Hakon Claw face to face. Talking. Not half-beaten, and escaping back to his ships. Where we cannot follow. All to be done again . . ."

At length there was some change visible, some indication that the newcomers had been noticed and their presence having some effect. The fighting went on, but some vigour appeared to go out of it, especially around the leadership groupings.

"The Orkneymen have seen the light at last!" Cospatrick said. "What will Hakon Claw do now?"

"He cannot fail to see this white flag. Let us take it nearer to him, so that he can have no doubts. Hugo - ride round and down. Try to get Fergus to halt his fighting . . ."

David and most of his notables rode some way on down the slope, under the flag-of-truce, leaving the army drawn up on the ridge. Halting some six hundred yards from the edge of the fighting, David ordered his trumpeter to blow a prolonged summons.

Strangely, it seemed as though that trumpet had a real effect on the combatants. Possibly it was Fergus whom it affected most, forcibly reminding him of the agreed strategy. There was a recognisable further slackening of the fighting, which spread over the entire field.