Sworn Sword (21 page)

‘Row, if you want to live!’ I said. ‘The English will not spare you; they will not show mercy. They are wildmen, animals, the Devil’s own children. They live only to kill Frenchmen like us!’

It seemed to work, for all of a sudden I sensed a fresh determination among the oarsmen, an extra burst of pace, and I responded in kind, speeding up my beat to take advantage of their renewed vigour.

‘Yes,’ I went on, starting to fall into a rhythm of my own, ‘they will kill you, but they will kill you slowly. They will cut out your tongue so you cannot scream; they will gouge out your eyes and sever your balls; and when they have finished, they will take their pleasure from your corpses.’

The mudbanks were now less than the
Wyvern
’s own length away from our steerboard side, and I hoped Aubert was aware of what he was doing, for if he didn’t judge it correctly then we could quickly find ourselves stranded and open to attack.

At the bow, Wace was lifting up planks, helping the ladies as they climbed down into the hold space below the deck. Eudo and the other knights were already donning hauberks and coifs, fastening scabbards to their belts. If it came to a fight, however, I knew we must surely lose; six knights could not hold them off for long. Of
course there were a good number of Aubert’s crewmen, all of whom could probably handle a spear or a knife, but they were not trained warriors.

‘Pull!’ I shouted. ‘Pull, pull, pull!’

We were nearing the head of the bend now, and I could see that it was going to be far tighter than I imagined. For as quick as we were, the enemy were quicker still, and the gap we were aiming for was steadily narrowing with every stroke, with every heartbeat. Their drumbeats rang out louder than before, and even voices could be heard, jeering at us in what sounded like the English tongue, whooping with the delight of the chase. Weapons crashed against shields, raising the battle-thunder.

‘Come on, you bastards, harder!’

There was a sharp whistle of air to my left, and I looked up in time to see a flash of silver as an arrow hurtled our way, arcing down until it disappeared into the water not twenty paces off our larboard side. A second followed, landing amidst the waves left by our passage, then three all at once: black lines against the moonlit clouds, soaring over the river before bearing down upon us. Two fell short, but the third flew higher and I tensed, thinking for a moment that it was going to hit us, but a gust caught it and it flew over the heads of the oarsmen before dropping beyond the steerboard side, less than an oar’s length from the hull.

The distance was closing fast now; in the half-light I could even make out the faces of those aboard the other two ships. One had taken the lead, and its prow rose tall as it speared through the water towards us. Upon its deck a score and more of warriors, all dressed in mail and helmets, raised their blades to the sky in anticipation of the slaughter that was sure to come. A second volley of arrows shot towards us, and I had to duck as one shot just over my head, while another stuck fast in the gunwale not far from where I was standing. We had almost made it to the headland, almost made it past them. But still they did not give up, and as they came closer, I saw that they were no longer trying to block our escape. They were trying to ram us.

‘Faster,’ I yelled above the noise. The painted dragon-head of the
leading ship bore down upon our flank and I braced myself for the impact. ‘Faster!’

A shudder ran through the ship as the deck tilted and the steerboard side jolted up. I stumbled sideways; the drum slipped from my fingers and thudded hollowly on to the deck. I was regaining my balance when the hull crashed down again, kicking up a white spray, and I fell back the other way. For a moment I thought the ship had been struck, and panic surged through me, but then I realised that we were still moving, and that the enemy were behind us.

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as I saw the two English ships in our wake, desperately trying to turn about, to pursue us. They must have just missed us, for I could see no damage to the ship, but when I looked to steerboard I saw the mudbanks perilously close to the hull. That was what we must have struck, and in doing so we had come within a fraction of grounding.

‘Take us out,’ I shouted to Aubert.

The shipmaster shook his head and his lips moved, but above the rush of oars and the thumping of my heart, I couldn’t make out what it was he said.

‘Out, into the midstream!’ I said, but then I saw what he had in mind. Less than a mile ahead, the river curved in a great arc around to the right, and at the tip of that curve was an island, a great mound of trees and rocks, much larger than any of the islets we had seen so far, with two passages around it. The first and safest of these was to follow the main stream of the river, a long, wide route around the head of the bend. The other, shorter course, took the form of a narrow channel on the inside shore, between the island and the mudbanks – and it was towards this second passage that Aubert was steering us.

If they wanted to stay close on our tail, the enemy would have to follow us through that channel, for to go around would allow us to put open water between ourselves and them. In doing so, however, they too would run the same risk of beaching there on the flats. It was a plan that relied greatly on Aubert’s judgement and ability, but I did not see that we had many other choices. Already
the two enemy ships had brought their prows around, carving through the dark waters, and were in pursuit. We still had a lead of several lengths on them, but they were much the faster, and I knew that lead could soon disappear. Already it seemed they were closing in again. We were far from being safe yet.

‘Row,’ I shouted, recovering the drum and starting to beat once more. I stepped along the middle gangplank between the men. ‘Row!’

Thrown from their rhythm by the impact, some of the oarsmen were struggling to keep their strokes in time, but I could not afford to slow the pace again. Oars creaked in their rowlocks; blades crashed awkwardly into the water, not cutting its surface cleanly as they had before, casting up spray, turning the water white with foam with every heave.

‘Harder!’ I said, but when I looked at them I saw only tired arms, tired faces, and thought they might collapse if I tried to press the pace further.

Up ahead rose the island, which I saw now was no great mound but in truth little more than a low rise, bolstered on its upstream side by wide banks of silt. Indeed, had
Wyvern
’s mast been raised, the island would have been barely taller, but set against the flatness of the surrounding land, it stood out like a wart upon the skin of the earth. To the right of it lay the channel for which we were aiming, which at closer sight seemed even narrower than at first it had appeared, wide enough only for two vessels like ours to run abreast, with barely enough space for oars as well. I shivered at the sight.

In the bow of the ship, the rest of the knights were still putting on their mail, Wace and Philippe adjusting their coifs over their heads, Radulf and Godefroi tying their helmets’ leather straps under their chins. Only Eudo was fully ready, looping the strap of his shield around his neck.

I called him over. ‘Take the drum,’ I said, releasing it from my arm and pushing it towards his mailed chest. He slung his shield across his back and took it without a word, his expression grim. I thought of all the times we had charged upon enemy shield-walls bristling with spears, staring fate in the face, never knowing whether
that battle would be our last. But at least then we’d known we could trust in the strength of our own sword-arms to see us through.

‘We have a priest with us,’ I said. ‘God won’t let us come to harm.’

He did not look certain, nor did I feel it, but I could think of nothing else to say. I left him and crossed towards the bow platform, where Wace was fastening his helmet-strap.

‘Are the ladies safe?’ I asked.

‘They’re safe,’ Wace said. I nodded, feeling that I should check on them but knowing there was no time; I had his word and that would have to be enough.

From behind came another muted rush of air as more arrows were given flight, though they dropped short of the stern by half a length. I had spotted only half a dozen archers on each ship, but that was scant relief, for it would only take a few of their shafts to strike home to start causing panic amidst our rowers.

I turned my attention to Malet’s men, who were beginning to pull chausses up over their legs.

‘Leave them,’ I said. ‘A hauberk you can remove quickly if you fall in. Chausses will only weigh you down.’ I spoke from experience: I had seen men drown in circumstances none too different, held under the surface by the very weight of their mail, floundering, struggling for breath with no one to help them.

I shrugged off my cloak and fastened my sword-belt to my waist, then found my gambeson and pulled it on over my head, followed by the hauberk and finally the helmet. I fed the hilt of my sword through the slit in the hauberk, just as a cry of agony went up from one of the rowers on the larboard side. His oar-handle slipped from his grasp, through the rowlock and out into the water. I rushed to the young man’s side as a great cheer erupted from the boats of our pursuers. A feathered shaft had pierced his gut, and blood was spilling out on to the deck.

‘It hurts,’ he whimpered, eyes shut tight. ‘It hurts!’

‘Ælfwold,’ I called, and then because some of the oarsmen around him were drawing their attention away from their stroke, ‘Row, you bastards!’

‘Pull,’ Eudo said. ‘Pull!’

I put my arms around the man’s chest and hauled him over so that he lay on his back rather than his side; he had been struck on his right and I could not easily get to the wound otherwise. He let out another cry and his hands clutched at the arrow. I saw that it had pierced deep, the whole head buried into the flesh and some of the shaft too. I pushed the man’s hands away and snapped off the flighted end to leave only the point in the wound, then took hold of a corner of the man’s cloak. It was wrapped awkwardly around his body, but I was able to free enough that I could gather it and press it in a wad against the wound. Even as I did so, though, I knew it was in vain: the wound was too severe, the blood flowing too quickly to be staunched.

The oarsman gasped and his head wrenched forward. I heard footsteps along the deck and Ælfwold knelt down next to me.

‘How badly was he struck?’ he asked.

I shook my head. ‘See to him,’ I said, standing back up on the centre plank and letting the chaplain get closer. I waved to the rest of the knights to follow me towards the stern; if we ran aground that was where I wanted them, facing the first line of the English assault. ‘A shield,’ I called to them as I stepped up on to the platform. ‘Bring me a shield!’

We were almost at the island, at the point where the river forked, still clinging to the steerboard shore as Aubert tugged hard on the tiller, taking us into the channel. The closest of the English ships was no more than three lengths up in front of us now; both were filled with men, roaring, battering the hafts of their spears against their round shields. The few archers they possessed were lined behind them, letting fly as quickly as they could draw the shafts from their arrow-bags, without regard for aim.

‘How is he?’ Aubert asked, his gaze not turning from the channel ahead.

I looked back towards the chaplain, who was kneeling there still, his head bowed and his palms together. The oarsman was no longer moving, his eyes closed, his expression fixed in anguish.

‘He’s dead,’ I replied.

The shipmaster said nothing, gritting his teeth as he wrestled with the steerboard. His face was red, his cheeks wet with perspiration.

On either side of us the marshes were closing in, and it seemed like the water itself was receding. From the island came a clatter of wings as a flock of crows took flight, cawing as they went, spiralling up into the sky before swooping low over our heads. Ahead, the channel glistened: a thin course of white showing us the way between the darkness of the two shores.

Wace headed the knights as they stepped up on to the platform, unslinging one of the two shields from around his neck and passing it to me. I looped the strap over my right shoulder and put my arm through the leather brases, gripping the cross in my hand, just in time as Wace yelled out: ‘Shields!’

A cluster of silver points flew out of the western sky. I brought my shield up to cover my face, moments before a shaft thudded into it, sending a shock down my arm and into my shoulder, but I held it firm. Behind me on the platform there was a crash of mail upon timber; Philippe lay face upwards on the deck, shield lying across his chest, and at first I thought the enemy had claimed another kill, but he was breathing and moving with no sign of injury, running a hand along the side of his helmet where there was now a dent in the plate.

‘Up!’ I said, for already more arrows were flashing towards us. These ones flew wide, falling harmlessly amongst the reeds, albeit no more than a couple of oar-lengths away from
Wyvern
’s side. Blinking and clearly more than a little dazed, Philippe got to his feet, stumbling a little as the prow swerved violently to larboard and we came desperately close to the shallows that marked the island’s shore. A dark shoal passed by, long and low, barely visible above the surface.

‘Come on, you bastards,’ Eudo said. ‘Harder! Harder!’

The ship shuddered again and I staggered forwards. A great grinding noise sounded up through the deck as the hull scraped along the riverbed. I thought we had run aground, and I waited for the moment when the bows would drive up on to the flats and we
would become stranded, but the moment never came; instead the grinding ceased and suddenly we were free. Relief washed over me, if only briefly, since the enemy still followed, their war-cries growing ever louder to match the beating on their shields. I wiped the sweat off my brow and adjusted my helmet so that the nasal-piece sat more comfortably. It would not be long before they caught us and the slaughter began.