Viking Legend (8 page)

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Authors: Griff Hosker

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

BOOK: Viking Legend
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I rose and looked for another enemy. There were none near me for my Ulfheonar had sent the warriors to their God. Before us were the boys and youths with slings and arrows.  Even as I stared at one of them and raised my sword, they turned and fled.  I yelled, “Stop them escaping!”

My Ulfheonar did not run after them; in our heavy mail we would not catch them but the younger warriors we had brought set off like greyhounds after hares. I peered around the market.  It was a scene of great chaos.  Those families who had come to buy stood in fearful huddles. The sellers were trying to protect their animals. I saw Snorri approach. “None escaped my way.”

“Good. Have your men begin to collect and drive the animals back to the drekar.  You go with Aiden and search the church.”

“Aye Jarl!”

I turned and saw Haaken, “Secure the villagers.  Choose any that might make slaves and herd the rest into the church.”

Beorn arrived, “None escaped north, Jarl Dragonheart, but I saw some heading west towards Aberffraw.”

“It cannot be helped.  Have your men join Snorri’s and drive the animals to the drekar.  You take charge.  When you reach Olaf Leather Neck have him take his grain to the drekar.” He nodded, “We may be pursued.  We will try to hold them back.  Have a line of spears ready eh?”

“Aye Jarl.”

The last of those resisting us had either been disarmed or killed. It was over but it had not gone as well as it might. I had no doubt that some of those who had fled would evade my pursuers.  They would fetch help. I went to the church where the survivors of our attack, the old and very young, were being herded into the church.  I saw that it had a stone tower but the walls were made of wood. It was, however, a large church.  Aiden and Snorri emerged from the church with a chest. Aiden smiled, “A good haul, Jarl.”

“Aiden find two captives to carry that chest.  Get back to the drekar.  There will be pursuit.” Be prepared to leave in a hurry. I saw that there were two doors to the church. “Snorri, when the last prisoners are in the church bar the doors.”

Haaken took off his helmet and wiped his brow as he approached. “A good raid, Jarl.  We have carts and animals to carry the plunder and we lost but five men; three wounded and two dead.”

“Aye, Haaken, but we will be pursued.  Have everything taken back to the drekar.  I want the Ulfheonar and ten warriors with us as the rearguard. Choose the best and find us spears from amongst the dead. As I recall the Welsh have horsemen.”

“Perhaps their civil war still reigns and neither brother is in Aberffraw.”

“The Norns and the gods are not that generous to us.  One will have emerged as the victor.  We will be pursued but, mayhap, we will escape before they reach us.”

I took off my helmet to allow the air to get to my head.  My scar was also itchy. I wondered about shaving off my beard for it seemed to aggravate the scar. I almost laughed that I could think of such a thing at that moment. I had more important things to do rather than worry about an itchy beard. The market place was now a scene of devastation.  Bodies lay in untidy heaps.  Some animals had died in the fighting.  Anything of value had, however, been taken.

The men who had been pursuing those who had escaped returned.  Siggi the Fleet was one of the last to reach me.  He was breathing heavily.  “Jarl I think they reached their warriors.  When I reached yonder high piece of ground I saw standards fluttering in the distance and moving this way.”

The signal from the fire had worked.  It had alerted their King, whoever that was, and he was on his way. “You have done well and I will reward you.  Get to the drekar and tell all whom you pass to hurry.” He ran east.  “Haaken! They come. Tell the rest to go east and get to the drekar.”

I donned my helmet again and took the spear which he gave me.  There were just seven Ulfheonar and my ten warriors but I knew that we were the best that we had. The rest of my oathsworn would be preparing the defences at the beach. The huts which lay on the east side of the town were all made of wood, wattle and daub.  The wind was blowing from the west. “Use the fires in the huts; spread them so that the huts themselves burn.  We will make a pall of smoke which will hide us.”

My men went into the huts and  used the cooking fire to set the huts alight. It did not take much to make them burn.  The wind blew the flames and the smoke away from the church which lay on the western side. I hoped that the ones in the church would break down the doors and slow down the pursuit.  If that did not work then the smoke drifting across the island would make pursuit more difficult.

As we moved quickly towards our boats Haaken began coughing with the smoke.  “Was this wise, Jarl? It hampers us as much as the enemy.”

“They cannot know where we landed. The smoke will stop them seeing further than a hundred paces or so. It will not be comfortable running in the smoke but we will be hidden for longer.”

We had made almost four miles before I heard the sound of hooves. This was where I missed Snorri and Beorn the Scout.  The smoke had thinned somewhat and there was a chance that we would be seen.  I wondered how long it would be before they were upon us.  I needed somewhere to defend. The only place I spied was a small copse which rose, just a little, above the surrounding land.

“Make for the wood.  We will fight with our backs to the trees.” As we ran I asked, “How far do you estimate we are from the beach?”

Haaken sniffed, “It cannot be more than a mile. I can smell it.”

One of the warriors from the rear, Harald Haraldsson shouted, “Horsemen!”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw them through the thinning smoke.  They were less than five hundred paces from us.  The copse was, thankfully, less than fifty paces ahead. “To the trees.  Form a shield wall on me!”

The last few paces were uphill which reassured me. Their mounts would have to slow. I turned with Haaken on my right and Finni the Dreamer on my left.  I swung my shield around and held my spear before me. There were forty horsemen and they rode beneath the Gwynedd standard. They rode large ponies rather than horses and they had no mail. We had a chance.  I glanced behind me and saw that the trees would hamper a pony but not a man. “Be ready to retreat through the trees on my command.”

“Aye Jarl Dragonheart!” They sounded confident.  My Ulfheonar were always confident and the other ten had been chosen. That would make all the difference to the way they fought.

“Today we show these horsemen how Vikings fight.  Make sure it is they who die!”

They all roared, “Dragonheart!”

I hoped that the shout would intimidate the approaching Welsh.  This time we had a wall of spears before us.  The horsemen had formed a loose line but, like those we had fought in the land of Alt Clut, they had no stirrups.  If they tried to charge us they would be thrown from their horses. They did not try that.  Instead they wheeled, when they were ten paces from us and hurled their spears. That tactic might have worked in their civil war against warriors with a small shield but ours were huge.  They were heavy to wield but, as the spears either stuck in or banged off them, they proved their worth.

They continued their wheel to allow them to draw their swords.  Some of my men laid down their own spear and threw the Welsh spears back at them. One pony was felled and two Welsh warriors wounded. I saw that the spear which had hit mine had a broken haft.  I left it there.  I did not want to risk pulling it out.

They came again and this time they rode down our line slashing at us with their swords. They had to lean out to do so for their swords were not as long as mine. I jabbed forward with my spear as I deflected the sword aimed at my head. I saw it sink into the thigh of a warrior who was pitched from his pony. As they reformed I saw that there were five empty saddles.  Glancing down my line I saw only one warrior sporting a wound. Perhaps we would drive them off.

“Jarl Dragonheart, look beyond the horsemen.”

I saw, appearing through the mist like smoke, a column of men and the glinting told me that some were mailed. They would be able to close with us and would make short work of my men who had no mail.

“After the next attack, we turn and run to the beach!”

“Aye Jarl Dragonheart.”

It may have been that the sight of the reinforcements heartened the horsemen for they pressed this attack home with more vigour and determination.  They came straight at us.  The ones near the three of us in the centre pulled back their ponies’ heads to make them try to strike at us with their hooves. Had they been horses then they might have damaged us.  As it was they were only large ponies and I struck first with my spear, to strike into the chest of the pony and then, as I withdrew it, punched the beast with the boss of my shield.  The effect was to throw the wounded pony and rider to the ground. The falling beast and the other horsemen who were felled caused great confusion. The attack faltered. I shouted, “Fall back!”

While my newer warriors ran as ordered the Ulfheonar jabbed forward with their spears before retreating.  My spear caught a Welsh horseman on the knee. I twisted as I withdrew it enlarging the wound. He wheeled away bleeding heavily.

I turned and followed my warriors.  As I did so I slung my shield around my back.  It afforded me some protection and was easier to carry that way.  It left my left hand free.  It was only a small copse and we emerged on the other side within a very short time.  It would not take the horsemen long to realise what we had done and we hurried. Ahead of me I saw a line of warriors.  Snorri and Beorn had organised a defence.  I could only see twenty warriors and I wondered if they had had trouble.  Where were Asbjorn and the new men? I did not glance over my shoulder.  There was little point.  I would hear the hooves if the horsemen were near and a glance behind might make me trip. Only inexperienced warriors did that.

Snorri and his men opened their lines and we passed through.  There I saw, to my great relief, the rest of my men formed up in the dunes. Asbjorn raised his sword in salute. Snorri had hidden our numbers. I saw that our two drekar were broadside to the shore and
‘Odin’s Breath’
was floating.  My two captains had done well and when the threat from the shore was gone we would be able to sail safely away. I saw the decks crowded with animals and captives.  The journey back would be interesting.

“Jarl!”

I turned and saw that the Welsh had, indeed, caught up with us. I wondered how they had done so.  Perhaps they had been on the road already when the refugees had found them. There were three mailed warriors on horseback along with the lightly armed riders we had seen before.  Behind them were about eighty warriors some of whom were mailed. Their leader lifted his helmet and rode forwards a few paces.  His standard bearer accompanied him.  I saw that he held the royal standard. All that he would see was a line of less than forty warriors standing on a sand dune.  He would not know that we had  as many again waiting to reinforce us.

He spoke in Saxon; he butchered the language. “Before I slay you, Norseman, know who brings death to you.  I am King
Hywel ap Rhodri Molwynog and you have dared to raid my realm.”

I nodded. “So you have defeated your brother.  Have you rebuilt the castle I destroyed?  For know that you face Jarl Dragonheart of
Cyninges-tūn and I do not fear you.  I raid where I choose and take what I wish.  Your brother and his priestesses made the mistake of taking what was mine.  You and your people will ever suffer my wrath! When we have defeated you and returned home beware for we will return.”

I saw the anger on his face and he shouted, before jamming his helmet back upon his head, “Slaughter them! No mercy! No prisoners!”

I said, “Ready Asbjorn?”

“Aye, Jarl.  We await your command.”

The King waved his men forward.  The two mailed warriors led the men on ponies.  If they thought to frighten us they failed.  Behind them the two lines of warriors also raced after their comrades. We matched their line of horsemen and, as they approached, we held our spears behind us and then thrust them as the ponies and horses wheeled. My spear struck one of the horses in the neck and it screamed in pain and reared.  With no stirrups the rider fell.  My spear was plucked from my hands by the dying beast and I stepped forward to despatch the rider who lay prone beneath his thrashing mount with my sword.  I stepped back and shouted, “Now Asbjorn!”

Suddenly there was a second line of spears which appeared above us.  The line of warriors was stopped by the dead and dying horses and warriors. Their king had placed them in a solid line but the human and equine barrier now broke that up.  I knew that this was the moment for a decisive act which would break the will of the faltering warriors.  Raising my sword I stepped onto the body of the dead horse and shouted, “Ragnar’s Spirit!”

The effect was instantaneous.  All my warriors stepped forward and slashed or stabbed at the men before us.  I saw the Welsh King wave his sword back at me and then shout something to the archers who stood close by. A flurry of arrows flew at me. I was hit by one in the chest. It felt as though I had been struck by a punch but I felt no pain. I roared, “Kill them” and moved towards the four Welshmen who stood before me. They had open mouths as I swung my sword.  It tore through the throat of one and caught a second a blow in the side of the head.  The other two ran.  It was like a small hole appearing in a dam.  The trickle became a flood as my outnumbered warriors hacked and slashed the shocked Welshmen.

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