Authors: Vincent Atherton
Agmundr nods and smiles as he listens and immediately agrees it is a good plan, to start in the south and to fight our way back north again. Our intention is to ravage the Mercian lands as punishment for the way they have ravaged Danish land. This way they will learn of our military power and will not be tempted to attack us again. The plan is agreed and we load the whole army into the boats that brought us here from Vannin, plus the additional warriors that the Danir of Agmundrness have available to them.
Our boats are numerous and very full with men as we leave the Ripam. This is a very well prepared and equipped army and it is undertaking a well planned expedition but we are up against a formidable enemy. The campaign will be on a much larger scale than our venture into Fortriu, and the rewards must be huge too, in line with that scale.
Ironically, as we sail out to sea, we are passing close to my home on the Dee where Aud, Astrithr and little Thorfinn will be happily playing at this very moment. On this occasion there is no chance of diverting to see them, although my heart bleeds with anguish. I so much want to spend my time with them. This is man's business, however, and too serious to be interrupted by any other concerns. I hope to see them again soon and raise them up with me in my new status as I take my new position as the Jarl Amleth.
The journey will take us around three or four days and has a considerable number of hazards, especially high seas, tidal races and many savage rocks en route. Navigation is reasonably simple though as we only need to keep the coast in sight, initially to the south and then to the east after we pass the island of Môn. After that we pass along the west coast before turning into the Seafern Sea.
I find myself passing once more through very familiar waters as we leave the Ripam, and out into the open sea. In the distance, to the north, I can see the mountains of Vannin as they come into sight and move across the horizon as we move west. In the distant south I can see the Orme, which means the serpent, a hill which wriggles out of the land and into the sea.
Although it is late summer the rain falls continually and we are all soaking wet and cold. There is a strong wind against us and so the men must row for long periods, through a big swell, which often covers us in spray. It is hard labour in poor conditions. One or two are sea sick and their misery is compounded by being ridiculed as weaklings by the companions. This is a tough group of men with no tolerance of any weakness.
Then, as the hours pass and we go into night, we move towards Môn. As it is now dark we need to keep it well away, and keep it well to the south. We have no need to revisit those treacherous tidal races and to pass the craggy rocks that surround them. We know all too well how big their teeth are and how they can rip a boat apart. We have seen it happen before now.
Although I can see little in the dark it is enough to bring back the memories of the days immediately after we left Dyflinn. Everything that happened then is burnt onto my memory, as though that was the most important phase of my life. It was certainly the time at which my emotions were raised to burning point.
I can make out the cliffs of the cove where we first took shelter and then stayed until threatened by the King of Gwynedd. We have already passed the coast where we raided the village. The image of the black-haired maiden screaming in anguish passes over my mind again, as it has so often done before. Her fear and terror affected me like no one else's has ever done, before or since, though I have seen a lot of fear and terror.
Although we cannot see it we are now passing close to Dyflinn, our home and ultimate objective. It is just over the horizon, out of sight, but as always it is in the forefront of my thoughts. It will not be long now before we can return there with colossal strength to deliver vengeance and regain control of our homes.
During the night most of us sleep but the crew is divided into three groups so that one is always awake, steering the boat, watching the progress through the wind and the swell and always looking for hazards.
The weather was initially kind to us as we left Môn but then there was again persistent rain as there has been for almost the entire two days we have been at sea. We are passing the land of the Welsc, another old adversary, but an enemy which we can afford to avoid for a while. The priority now is to reduce the power of the Anglo-Saxons, our most immediate threat.
On the third day we get the nicest of conditions, sunshine and a strong west breeze. We find ourselves confronted with a very rocky stretch of sea with many small islands. This is the far west of the Welsc lands and a very dangerous place for boats. The tide flows unevenly here too and we find ourselves forced into passing close to shore to find the deepest water.
The water which was a dark grey green colour for much of the way is more often churned into white froth here. Standing waves are everywhere, raging and twisting the boats, and it is rumoured that dragons live in these waters. We know that we have to fight hard against the currents to keep our boats under control, and regret not having made more sacrifices to Thor. The men, who are already exhausted from the limited sleep that they have had, now have to row hard to keep us in the safe channels and off the rocks.
We get past it with only one incident where a boat is rolled over in the turbulent tide and all the men drowned. No one comes to the surface after the boat rolls, and they must have been taken by the dragons. We are pleased to get away from this evil place and we can then turn towards the east, into the calm waters of the Seafern Sea and towards the distant shores of Wessex and Mercia.
Another day uneventfully passes as we move along the north coast passing many large headlands. This must be Thor's blessing on the fighting men. They are almost all exhausted and lying around the boat sleeping. Just a few of us are awake keeping the boat safe and on course, though that is easy now in these pleasant, benign conditions. Our men will need to arrive rested and in good condition as they will be in hostile land from the minute we arrive.
We can see that the Welsc Britons have a lot of rich land here, unlike the mountainous territory of their north. It is worth remembering this, as there will be more times in the future when we will want to find riches to rob. We know the Saxons have often made raids and they have even left settlements here. Eventually we find ourselves entering a very long fjord of the Seafern between two stretches of low land. It is so wide here that we cannot see the southern shore.
The westerly winds fill our sails here and we are swiftly carried deep into the Seafern in only a day's sailing, until the low hills come into sight on the southern bank. This is our first sight of Wessex, the land of our strongest enemy. We need to pause here for a while to await the incoming tide which can carry us quickly and much further inland with deeper water; the tides are very large and fast flowing here and the water is very shallow at low tide.
The estuary is still wide and deep enough to make navigation easy as long as we can find and stay in the channel, and it remains so for many miles into the hinterland. Eventually the channel narrows so it is now clearly a tidal river rather than the open sea, and it twists and turns as we reach further inland. Now we are definitely in southern Mercia rather than Wessex. All we need to do now is to decide how far inland to travel before we start our campaign against the Angles.
We must be a terrifying sight for any Mercians that see us. A huge fleet of boats, each clearly signalling its war like intentions with our high sails, mostly with the broad red vertical stripes that are usually associated with war ships. Brightly painted shields are displayed on shield racks along the sides of the boats. Perhaps most terrifying of all will be the sight of our men. Mostly they are muscular, long-haired, heavily bearded and wild-eyed: brutal men who are thirsty for killing and greedy for loot.
We will need to take to the land soon and eventually the river decides it for us as we reach a point where all the boats ground. Although we feel we might be able to go further if we await the next tide, we are passing by good land filled with wealthy farms and we know it is time to start our plundering. Our men leap into the water to lift the boats onto the beach to unload their equipment. We have arrived and Mercia is about to know the wrath of the Vikings.
A good number of men have to be left here with the boats reducing our numbers. They are not here to guard the boats this time but to take them back to either Vannin or the Ripam. There is no point in leaving them here, we will not return to this place. Our intention is to march north, eventually returning over land to the Mersam and then back home into Danelaw. The Angles will possibly confront us somewhere, but we can have done them great damage by then and we will certainly have taken a lot of plunder.
There is no Ragnald here to take all of the silver and so for once I can gain my own fair share. I believe it is time that I gained some proper rewards for all my efforts and the huge risks that have been taken with my life. This is my time, the time to enrich myself before taking a well-earned retirement to a farm in the Dyflinskari.
After camping overnight we set out to burn all the nearby villages and every farm we encounter, taking away any livestock or grain to feed our army. The destruction of the farms is as important to us as taking plunder, since we need to demonstrate the destructive power of our army. It is important to impose ourselves on the Anglo-Saxons so that in the future they will pay tributes to persuade us to stay away from their lands.
This is rich farm land as the valley of the Seafern is extremely wide, fertile and prosperous, so we find easy and fat pickings here and no organised opposition. There is plentiful food, even to maintain such a huge horde as our army. It was a great plan to come this way, and we have clearly surprised the Mercians completely. Agmundr should be pleased with my brilliant strategy!
We already know that King Edward of Wessex is away from here assembling a fleet of ships somewhere in the far south. We should get no interference from him and may be able to complete a devastating raid on the Mercian land, burning it and laying it waste as we go, and gaining great riches for ourselves. The Christian churches give particularly good rewards as they are often filled with gold and silver objects which their worshippers have placed here to buy their eternal salvation. I wonder if their god will still honour his debt to them now that the treasures are in our hands. They say he is a caring god.
If we are very fortunate we might escape completely unchallenged by any Angle or Saxon army and perhaps with few or even no casualties. That might just be wishful thinking, as it is far more likely that we will be challenged at some point. The Mercians surely must make more attempt than this to defend their land and property.
The Wessex Saxons under Alfred built great forts or buhrs to resist the Danes. Wessex is covered in the buhrs but south Mercia has fewer and is therefore more vulnerable. They have concentrated their efforts in building in the north where they see that the threat from the Danes is much closer.
Nevertheless they have already taken a great deal of their wealth into those buhrs that they have here, especially at Gleawcestre. We get there on the second day, and find it well-defended and full of anxious and frightened Angles. That town would be a very rich prize but will take a lot of time to take. That might allow an Anglo-Saxon army to attack us from the rear, so we decide to simply bypass it and continue north. Our strategy is to strike hard and fast, then to keep moving. So much easier and safer, and we already have a massive amount of plunder.
For now there is no organised opposition and our campaign is going very well, we are delighted by our success. Each village falls in turn, with no effective resistance from any one. Just occasionally a group of brave and foolish men who choose to die in a futile defence of their land when cornered. They never last for long.
When I come across Agmundr he has fulsome praise for my strategy, and so I can also congratulate him on his handling of the army and its operations. It is a very good humoured exchange between us, full of mutual admiration and good will. We are discussing how to proceed now, but there will be little change. We just continue north, looting and plundering as we go.
Our success has depended on our ability to move quickly, and so we now continue to move rapidly, no need to delay. Everywhere we go the Angles flee in droves before us and leave us much of their wealth to plunder. We do not know this country well but it is obvious that the river Seafern goes a long way north towards our homelands. So if we follow its course it will take us most of the way home.
Our successful progress continues for several days, so successful that we are getting heavily burdened with plunder, almost too much to carry. Now we are also starting to take many slaves to carry the goods, as well capturing as oxen and horses to pull carts and all of these are filled with goods which are our rewards for this success.
Now we are even starting to leave some goods behind us, especially cattle, as we already have as many as we can sensibly herd northwards. We already have a substantial herd and the slaves are having difficulty in handling them. In turn we are stretched trying to control the slaves who continually try to escape. Most days we have to kill a dozen or so to keep control of the others. There is no difficulty in replacing them with new ones as we continually capture more land and take more captives.
The plan to harry the entire land of Mercia is succeeding better than we could ever have expected. Although they have avoided great casualties by fleeing before us we have taken great numbers as slaves and a huge amount of their wealth.
On the sixth day we are surprised to find ourselves meeting up with another Danish army which is lead by my former acquaintance King Halfdan, and his fellow King of Northumberland, Ivarr, who I have never met before. They have heard of our initial success and brought a smaller army from Jorvik, which now combines into an even great force. They have sailed down the Trente, a long river from the east and journeyed right into the centre of Mercia. Clearly they are anxious to share in our success and will certainly intend to claim the credit for all of it.