Authors: Griff Hosker
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction
The enemy men at arms had tried to make a hurried shield wall but the speed of our advance caught them in mid formation. I spurred Scout who leapt a little in the air when I urged him on. His front hoof flailed making two of the men at arms raise their shields for protection. I had an easy hit on one of them, striking him just above his belt with my spear. Roger of Lincoln took the other in the thigh. Then the four of us were into the disordered spearmen. Dick's arrows were still causing chaos and I saw the men leading the horses ahead of us turn and try to flee. I thrust my spear into one of the spearmen who clutched at the haft as he fell. I released it and drew my sword.
"Come on Scout! On!" My steed responded to my spurs and my shout. He was far superior to the sumpters ahead and we soon made up the ground. As I raised my sword to strike the men they threw themselves to the ground.
"Mercy! We surrender! Do not kill us!"
Wulfric and Roger reined in next to me. Wulfric growled at them. "Then throw down your weapons!"
I turned and saw that most of their men at arms lay dead or wounded and the surviving spearmen had all surrendered. I shouted, "Dick, bring your archers and take charge of these horses and the prisoners." I dismounted and nudged one of the Welshmen in the ribs. "You, stand."
He did so, "Please do not kill us. We have families."
I saw immediately that this was not a warrior. He was little more than a villein. "Then speak the truth and answer my questions."
"I will."
"Where have you come from this day?"
"The castle at Flint, my lord."
I pointed to the dead knights. "Was one of these a lord of the castle?"
He shook his head, "No, lord. The Lord of the manor is Cynan ap Iago. That is his younger brother Rhodri ap Iago."
"And is there a garrison at Flint?" He hesitated. "I was beginning to warm to you Welshman. It would be a shame if I had to slit your throat because you were too slow in answering."
"Yes, my lord. This is half of the garrison."
I smiled. "What is your name?"
"Gwynfor of Caerwys."
"Then you and these other eight shall live. You will return to your master and tell him that the Earl of Stockton, who leads an army of King Henry of England and Normandy demands that he surrender his castle. I will come tomorrow to receive his answer." I saw him glance behind me. I laughed, "This is not my army! These are my oathsworn out for a pleasant ride." He nodded. "When you have delivered your message I would go back to Caerwys and take up another occupation." He nodded and began to move albeit slowly. "I have given my word. Go."
After they had fled down the road Wulfric asked, "Why did you let them go?"
"A number of reasons. Firstly we do not need extra mouths to feed and men to guard. Secondly, because I want the lord of Flint Castle to send a message to the other leaders in the valley. If they think we intend to attack then they will prepare for a siege of their own castles and are less likely to reinforce Chester but most importantly because there is no need. These were not warriors. These were like Tom the Fletcher who was slain for no reason."
He pointed to the other prisoners; the men at arms, "And those?"
"They are different. They are warriors. We will guard them and then decide how we may use them."
Arkwright and Jack son of John had both been wounded. Annoyingly it was in their legs which would mean they could not ride. My men at arms used their legs to guide their horses as much as their reins. We were short of men at arms. However it was fewer than we might have expected. We headed back to the camp.
Our arrival prompted much discussion. We had two more fine palfreys as well as the sumpters with even more supplies. We would not starve that was for certain.
"Did your scouts bring in any news?"
Edward had taken charge in my absence, "They have columns of scouts out seeking us my lord. They rode in pairs on small ponies. Six of them will not report back but there were others who fled when they saw the bodies of the dead scouts."
I nodded, "And they have been reinforced with more men from Dublin. We are safe from attack from Flint. It is St. Asaph which might cause us problems. Harold, on the morrow, take your conroi and scout St. Asaph. Be cautious. Do not try any foolish heroics."
He laughed, "Then I shall try not to emulate you, my lord."
He left early while we questioned the six prisoners who remained. Arkwright and Jack son of John were more than happy to guard them and their bad temper at being camp bound was taken out on the hapless prisoners who were too petrified to move. It seemed that it was Cadwallar who commanded the men attacking Chester whilst Owain and his other brother, Cadwaladr, were in the Cheshire plain around Nantwich and Middlewich.
Dick commanded the scouts who ranged, this time to the north, east and south of us. Harold was to the west and would warn us of any danger from there. Once I was certain that there was no danger from St. Asaph's garrison I would attack the besiegers once more. I wondered why Robert of Gloucester had not arrived nor sent a message. The last time we had been in Cheshire he had used me as bait. I did not think he would do so again but I felt very vulnerable. At least I could beat a retreat this time. I would not have to fight my way out through the whole army of Gwynedd.
I was examining the swords of the knights we had killed when one of Sir Richard's scouts galloped in. "My lord, they have raised the siege. There is an army coming towards us!"
I did not panic. I had expected this and we were prepared. "Dick, organise your archers. Sir Tristan, have your men disguise the stakes in the ditch." I turned to Erre, "Now is the time for you to show your worth, Erre. I want you and your men to be the gate. My other men at arms will fight from behind the walls."
Erre grinned, "It is about time we showed these horse soldiers how a real warrior fights."
The other archers galloped in and reported the same thing. There was an army coming. By piecing together all of their information we discovered that there were almost eighty Vikings and Irish warriors along with forty Welshman. The good news was that there just six knights and their leader was one of the Princes of Gwynedd. Seven knights could be handled; especially if we used the ground to our advantage. Although the Welsh had fine archers we knew that they had to be short of arrows. We had all of the ones that had been sent to them! We also had the benefit of height. The hill fort was on a small rise. It would slow down any attack. We also discovered, when all the scouts reported, that half of the men from Dublin had mail. That would somewhat negate the effect of Dick’s arrows, at least until they were at close range.
"Dick, concentrate on the ones without armour. If we can thin them out they may become demoralised." I looked to the west. I needed Harold and his men. Even with them it would be a hard fight but without them we were in danger of defeat. The reinforcements from the dragon ships had made all the difference to our enemy. Even as I looked to the west I realised that it had been the reinforcements which had allowed Prince Cadwallar to attack us. Perhaps we had been lax and his scouts had spotted us or, more likely, we had been seen by the dragon ships.
I saw the rippling snake that was our enemy as it wound its way towards us. They knew we had horses and they were maintaining their solid lines to negate a charge. I did not intend to charge. I suspected that their leader would attack on a broad front. That way he would have overwhelming numbers all the way along our line. That was where Dick and his twenty eight archers would come into their own. When Harold returned, if Harold returned, then we would have thirty six. Perhaps thinking of my former squire made him appear for I heard Tristan shout, "My lord, it is Harold. He has returned."
He had come just in time. He threw himself from his mount. "There is a garrison at St. Asaph, my lord, but it is not a large one. I scouted Flint too and it could be taken."
I smiled at his enthusiasm, "Thank you, Harold, but we have a rather large army approaching us. We will deal with that first before we reduce a castle eh? Send your archers to Dick and bring your men at arms to Wulfric."
We stood behind Erre and his men while Wulfric distributed the new men at arms along the line. He did it carefully for he was looking for a balance. He knew the men at arms well and he sought perfection in our defence. There would be no random choices from Wulfric. The extra spears we had captured meant we could afford to give every man at arms two. In an initial attack we would be able to keep the advancing men at a distance and the longer we did that then the more time we had for the archers to weaken them.
"John, plant my banner here behind Erre. Then join the other squires. I want the five of you mounted and ready to fetch us our war horses when I give the command."
He looked disappointed. "I am not to fight in the line?"
"Follow my orders and you shall fight."
As he went Erre chuckled, "I like that young cockerel. He has spirit. He would face these wild men from Dublin even though they have more skill than he has."
Wulfric said, "Aye Erre, but not more heart. I have seen that boy fight and he is fearless."
The enemy were now two hundred paces from us. Dick had placed ranging rocks so that he knew the distance. Normally he would have waited until they were closer before he released his deadly missiles but the enemy had accommodated him well for they came in a solid block and given us the opportunity to send many arrows their way. At a hundred and fifty paces the arrows flew. Although my own archers were the best in my small force all of them were more than competent. They were an elite band. The enemy shields were slow to come up. A handful of men fell. The ones at the front also brought theirs up too even though no arrows were loosed at them. It made them take their eyes from the uneven ground and my men at arms laughed as some of them fell.
Dick kept releasing arrows. I saw him target the knights and their horses. It might seem cruel but archers knew the value of dismounting a knight by killing his horse. Two horses were killed before all the knights dismounted and took shelter in the wedge which moved relentlessly towards us. I heard a command given first in Welsh and then repeated in what I assumed was Norse. The line began to spread out to a wider formation. This time the men in mail were the subject of Dick's arrows. I saw a trail of bodies which marked the route towards us. I watched as Dick aimed deliberately at a Viking warrior who was encased in mail and had a masked helmet. The only flesh which could be seen was his lips and nose hidden behind a huge beard. As he raised his head and opened his mouth to shout an arrow plunged into it and silenced him forever. Another took his place.
The line was now forty paces from us and they would soon charge.
"Ready Erre?"
"I am always ready to fight, my lord, and I have picked out the trinkets I will claim when we have defeated them!"
It seemed they had not seen the first ditch and three of them were pushed in by the weight of numbers behind. I heard their screams as they fell onto the fire hardened stakes. They began to spread around the sides of the ditch. They looked eager to get at what looked like a handful of men in the gate. Once again their sheer weight of numbers caused at least three more men to fall into the ditch. I saw their leader exhorting his men forward.
"Ready! They will charge soon!"
Having endured the barrage of arrows and the trap filled ditches the mercenaries from Dublin were keen to get at us and they came like a wild torrent as soon as they saw the clear entrance to the six Varangians who stood before them. Wulfric and his five best men were behind them and then I stood with my knights and my banner. The eighteen most powerfully armed men in my conroi were ready to face this horde. They were attacking the strongest part of our defence. I heard a wild feral scream from the entire enemy and they hurled themselves at Erre and his men.
Suddenly spears appeared above the shoulders of my Varangians as they thrust their long weapons forward at head height. They were strong men and the powerful blows easily penetrated the mail of the Dubliners. The slope had meant the Vikings did not have the speed they needed and they did not have numbers behind them to give them more power. The first six Vikings fell. Two of my men had broken their spears and they grabbed their second one. The next attackers arrived piecemeal and were despatched just as easily. I heard commands shouted and the whole of the enemy line ran towards the wall. It was not a high wall and it looked easy to scale. The ditch provided another barrier to them and more fell to be killed or wounded on the fire hardened and dung covered stakes.
The enemy gathered together again at the gate. I knew we had to rely on the archers and my other men at arms if we were to win. Wulfric saw the sudden attack and, as the next twelve Vikings rushed towards the gateway he shouted. "Push!"
His timing was perfect and my twelve men ran forward, aided by the slope, and slammed into the advancing Vikings. Three were knocked into the ditch where they writhed in pain. My best warriors now outnumbered them. No mercy was shown and they were slaughtered.
It was at that moment that I judged the time to be right. "John! Horses!" I had waited for the Welsh Prince to commit all of his men to the attack. The centre of the enemy line was now the weakest. I grabbed a spear and leapt on to Star's back. The smell of blood always excited him and he stamped the ground, eager to be away. We did not need a solid line and, as soon as I was mounted I shouted, "Clear the gate!"
Wulfric had been waiting for the command and they parted like the Red Sea for Moses. Half pushed to the left while the other half to the right. They cleared a path for my six knights. I rode to the left of the gate and jabbed my spear into the face of a surprised Welshman who was hurrying to aid his allies. I twisted as I pulled it free and then looked for the Welsh prince. I could not see his face but I saw the lions on his shield and surcoat. I galloped directly at him. He had no horse and was at a disadvantage. The knights around him hurried to form a barrier before him as Star thundered down the slope towards him. They say a horse will not step on a living man. That is not true. Star trampled and smashed the bodies of many dead ones that day and threw himself at those who were before him. The Welsh who had sense threw themselves away from his black hooves. Some did not; they lay crushed and broken on the bloody green hillside.
I was aware of horses coming behind me. My knights were eager to support me. The result was that we struck them like a giant arrow. Richard and Edward flanked me. My spear smashed as it struck the shield of a warrior trying to protect his prince. Star did the rest. He raised one huge hoof and smashed it down on the falling knight. As I drew my sword I kicked at the Welsh Prince. It distracted him enough so that his sword struck fresh air.
I whipped Star's head around and, despite his size and his speed he did so remarkably quickly. The Prince turned to face me and he tried to stand on my shield side so that I could not use my sword. I dropped my reins and, standing in the stirrups, swung my blade down on him. My sword struck him a blow on his helmet and then slid down to hit his shoulder. I heard something crack and then he screamed. I turned again. His shield was hanging down. I raised my helmet and shouted, "Yield! Surrender your men!"
"Never! I fight on!"
I lowered my helmet. I had given him his chance and he had spurned it. He was a brave young man but a foolish one. I rode at him and feinted. He tried to get on my shield side but his wound had slowed him up. I swung my sword sideways and it hacked through his coif and into his neck. He fell dead.
As soon as their paymaster died the Vikings turned and ran. Had the prince been their jarl then they would have fought to the death but he was not and they fled. Star had done enough and I leaned forward to pat his neck. I took off my helmet and turned to see if we had suffered. John was behind me. He had a huge grin on his face.
"Signal Dick to join me." I saw Sir Richard some paces up the slope and he was kneeling next to his squire William. He had been wounded. At the gate I only counted five of my Varangians. We had been lucky. Having the slope with us and being mounted had made all the difference. Our speed of attack had caught the Welsh unawares. They had thought we would sit behind our walls and fight them beard to beard. Had we done so they would have won for they outnumbered us.
Dick rode up, "My lord?"
"Take my archers and see where they go. Risk no one. You have done well this day as have all of the archers."
"Edward, take charge here. I fear I have lost one of my men." All the time I had been speaking I had kept an eye on my men. When Father John only made a brief visit and then left I feared the worst.
Erre heard my approach and stood. "It is William the Tall, my lord. He has died well and will be with your father and the other Varangians." I saw that William had many cuts and wounds. He stood a head taller than any other warrior and would have been a big target. There was a line of bodies where they had fought. I could see that our charge down the hill had not only disorganised the enemy it had left my six men exposed. They had suffered the attack by those who were close to them.
"Take whatever you wish from the dead, Erre. You and my oathsworn have merited that honour."
"Thank you, my lord."
I saw that we had a couple of dead men but the walls had given us the advantage. Others were wounded and I was glad that we had brought the priest. With his help and God’s they would be healed and fight another day. I dismounted and handed Star's reins to John. I will ride Scout."
As I rinsed my face with water I heard the cries as the enemy wounded were despatched. It was a kindness. The only ones who could have been healed were the wounded who were fleeing Dick and his archers. Drying my face I saw the men at arms and archers searching the bodies in the ditch and on the approach to our camp. They would take their pay from the dead. John and the other squires would divide the booty from the knights. Our accurate archers meant we only had three extra horses but that did not matter. We had won.
It was almost dark when Dick returned. "They have departed in their dragon ships my lord." He grinned, "They could barely crew them they had lost so many. We caught up with a couple as they fled. They are now dead. The Earl of Chester came to his walls. He asked to speak with you in the morning."
"Thank you Dick."
We burned the stripped bodies of our enemies. Their pyre lit up the sky and illuminated our camp. The smell of burning flesh was a familiar smell after a battle. It no longer bothered us. The men ate well and drank the ale from the skins the enemy had brought with them. Vikings liked their beer and knew how to brew it.
Richard of Yarm's squire had a serious wound. Like my two men at arms he would struggle to ride. Richard kept looking at his son while we ate. He had been his father's squire before William. I knew what he was thinking. It could have been his son who was hovering between life and death. I had promised my own son that he could come with us next time we fought. Had that been a wise promise to make?