Housecarl (32 page)

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Authors: Griff Hosker

Tags: #battles, #vikings, #hastings, #battles and war, #stamford bridge

BOOK: Housecarl
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Although we were not in wedge
the three of us in the centre of our line were gradually edging
ahead of our comrades.  My men were well trained enough to
take advantage of this.  I was confident that Osgar to my left
and Ridley to my right would protect my flanks and I pushed
forwards. Had I been an eagle soaring high in the sky I would have
seen the effect of this on the enemy line for we were forcing apart
the centre of the Norse line from the Northumbrian traitors on
their left.  It was slow and it was inexorable but it was
inevitable. Branton and his archers were spilling across the field
along with the local fyrd to kill and despoil any Norse that they
found; ahead were the enemy but behind us lay only the dead.

The Northumbrians and Norse who
fought us could see the banners of their leaders edging away and
they renewed their efforts against us.  Rather than weakening
us it helped for when they swung their blades and axes they were
exposing themselves to counter blows.  Had they been armoured
the blows would have done little damage but they sliced and slashed
into unguarded flesh. Weakened, they continued to fight but wounded
as they were they were doomed to die. Suddenly we found ourselves
with allies and friends to our rear as we split the army into two.
Unknown to me, Aethelward had seen what we were doing and it was
being repeated on our left as he directed the battle from his
horse. Within an hour we had split Tostig and Hadrada from their
men.

For my part I had to concentrate
upon those to the fore.  We cursed and we swore and suddenly I
was aware that those before us were English.  We had fought
through the Norse to the traitors. “Let’s kill these treacherous
traitors and send them to hell!”

It was when they began their
chant that I knew I faced the warriors of my brothers, “Runt! Runt!
Runt!”

Rather than enraging me it
calmed me. I glanced along the line to my right and saw Ridley at
the head of his wedge but like mine it was barely formed. I
shouted, “Topcliffe, Coxold halt! Wedges!” My brother’s men were
too surprised to react quickly for they were neither well trained
nor led but our men were and we had two wedges in the blinking of
an eye. I sheathed my sword, slipped my shield around my back and
drew Death Bringer. Being at the front I did not have to worry
about the rhythm of the swing and I started the deadly dance of
death.  I knew that the two friends Osbert and Aedgart would
already be in time with both me and each other.  My first
victim started in horror at the blade which seemed to sing as it
sank towards him hacking down his neck and into his chest. The
second one was a lucky hit for I caught the next fellow on the
upswing, the edge slicing upwards from his chin. Osbert and Aedgart
were equally successful and those behind, using swords and spears,
were also winning their combats. We were deep in their lines and
the terror was everywhere.  I saw Egbert two ranks ahead of
me.  Even as I swung my blade, I was able to detach my
thoughts from what I was doing.  Egbert should have been in
the front rank as Ridley and I but instead he had a wall of bodies
before him. I wondered why I had grown up living in such fear of a
bully, a cowardly bully at that.

The warrior before me was so
intent upon my blade that he lost his footing and fell.  I
stamped on his face as I passed knowing that he would be despatched
by the men behind.  I heard his gurgle of death as I chopped
through the shield of the man who stood before my axe.  He
stabbed at my chest with his sword.  Had he aimed at my arm he
may have hurt me but although the blade penetrated some links and I
saw a tendril of blood seep out it was but a scratch. His brave
attempt to hurt me cost him his life as my backswing struck his
outstretched neck and his head bounced along the traitor’s front
rank.

Then I was face to face with
Egbert who suddenly seemed quite small.  He too had his axe
out but I knew that he was not confident.  The blade was clean
whereas mine dripped blood and gore. His armour, for he was the
first I had seen who had donned armour before fighting, was
shining.  He had not fought this day and I had been fighting
for hours. He should have had the advantage being fresher but I
knew that I was a warrior, a Housecarl and he was not.

He sneered, “Runt! “And swung
his axe at me. I easily countered and smiled as the sliver of wood
was sliced from the axe’s haft.

“How embarrassing for you Egbert
if you are killed this day by the runt!”

I swung my axe at his arm and he
hurriedly changed his angle.  Again another sliver slipped
from the ash and he took a step backwards. He looked in horror as
though I might whittle the handle down to a toothpick. To me it
seemed as though we were alone fighting in a limbo. There were
other combats around us, for the wedge had lost cohesion as our
enemies fell before us, but all I could see was Egbert. He was
becoming afraid, I could see it in his eyes and he became impatient
to end this duel which he had felt he would win easily.  His
impatience meant he made mistakes. Instead of the natural swing of
the axe, in a figure of eight diagonally across the body, he made
the cardinal error of a flat swing intended to decapitate me. It is
the easiest blow to face for you drop you knees and lower your
head. Even as I ducked, Death Bringer was slicing upwards.  It
ripped through his mail as though it were not there and tore into
his stomach.  For a brief moment I saw his breakfast. 
His eyes, already losing life looked down to the entrails and guts
pouring on to the ground and Egbert, my half brother died at my
feet at the battle of Stamford Bridge.

The emotion of the moment,
tiredness and the fact that our enemies moved swiftly away at the
death of one of their leaders meant that we halted to regain our
breath. Osbert slapped an arm across my back.  “That was the
finest axe work I have ever seen.  It seemed to be part of
you.”

I looked at the blade. 
Death Bringer is a fine weapon and it is now Brother Killer
too.” 

Suddenly I heard a scream as
Edward appeared from nowhere. He had a sword held in two hands and
screamed at me. “Today the Runt will die!”

He swiped the sword two handed
at one of my men who stood before me and I saw the blade cut deeply
into his leg and the warrior fell to the ground.  I just had
time to drop my axe and swing my shield around as Edward aimed the
next blow at me.  I had seen the arc of his swing and
anticipated the blow.  It cracked off my shield but I could
see that my brother had mistimed it and he had jarred his arm. I
drew my sword and waved the others away. “He is mine, look to the
rest and do not interfere.  It is wyrd!” I grinned at
him.  “I hope that you have made peace with God brother for
you will be seeing him or the devil soon.”

“You are the bastard’s spawn and
you will die.”

His next blow I took on my
shield and I leisurely hacked at his leg below the knee.  I
did not use my full power but the blood spurted. “That is for
Aethelward.”

I saw him almost cry and then he
hacked at me again.  The blow was better timed but I took it
on my shield and sliced into his mail shirt along his ribs with a
side cut.  The dark mark showed the blood. “And that is for
Nanna.”

He was screaming like a child
and I heard Osbert say sadly, “Finish it my lord.”

His last swing was an over head
hack, aimed at my helmet and had he struck me he would have split
my fine helmet but I was ready and my blade plunged into his chest,
twisting as it entered. “And this is for my mother, for you were
complicit in her death, killer of women.” His face was close to
mine and I watched the hatred and anger turn to shock as he knew
that he was dying. I pushed him from my sword and he slid to the
ground. Two of my brothers were now dead.

I took the time to look around
the battlefield.  I could see that Tostig and Hadrada were
surrounded.  To my right Ridley had also halted and before us
were the remnants of Egbert’s men and the other traitors. 
Behind me I could see that Osgar, Wolf and the others were
struggling to finish off Tostig and Hadrada. The men fighting with
the King and the Earl were the elite of the army and they did not
die easily.  “Ridley, keep after those traitors. 
Topcliffe! Wedge! Branton get your archers.  It is time for
arrow work.”

The men were bone weary. They
would struggle to lift their arms. I checked to see that the wedge
was in formation.  Branton appeared at my shoulder with Boar
Splitter in his hand. “Thought you might need this lucky spear, my
lord.”

“Thank you Branton.”  I
pointed at Hadrada.  “When you get the chance try for the King
it might take the heart out of his men and save the lives of some
of ours.”

“It will be a pleasure my
lord.”

“Topcliffe! Forward!”

As we marched forwards I looked
to see where the Housecarls were struggling.  I could see that
Osgar and Wolf only had three warriors behind them.  It seemed
appropriate that we should aid my companions of the shield
wall.  “Osgar! Wolf! Wedge coming behind.” Both men were
engaged in deadly combat and could neither acknowledge us nor turn
to see us.  Our manoeuvre would rely on my timing. 
Branton, his archers and his slingers could see our point of
arrival and they began to rain missiles on those behind, in the
third and fourth tightly packed ranks. Had the warriors had armour
the arrows would have been an inconvenience but without armour and
using the shields to protect against the Housecarls it resulted in
carnage. Wolf and Osgar moved forwards slightly as the pressure
eased.  I headed for the point between their shoulders. 
Knowing that I was arriving meant that when they felt my shield and
saw Boar Splitter appear, they moved  apart slightly and I
stabbed forwards, my blade striking a shield and sliding up into
the unprotected throat of a Norseman.  Stepping forwards I saw
that it was Wolf and Osgar who were besides me.

“Just like old times eh
Aelfraed.”

“Aye it is that.  Now let
us get this finished I have a thirst upon me.”

It was indeed like old times and
the fresh men helped to puncture the shield wall a little more.
Wolf and Osgar were using their swords but they were using them
like spears, pointing and stabbing over the edge of their
shields.  In contrast the Norse shields were riddled with cut
marks and I began to punch the boss of my shield against my
opponents. I saw the look of horror on his face as he saw the
cracks appear. I redoubled my efforts, all the time probing with
Boar Splitter.  With a sudden crack, a piece fell from the end
of his shield and Wolf’s blade slid through the gap to stab into
his unprotected chest.  We were close to Hadrada and I stabbed
forwards to get closer to him. Suddenly something flew above my
head and I saw one of Branton’s goose tipped arrows strike him
squarely in the throat. He stood transfixed for a moment and then
crumpled to the ground as though the life had been sucked from him.
There was a collective wail of despair as the most famous Viking of
all time, the man who would later be called the Last Viking,
succumbed not to a blade in single combat or even an axe, but an
arrow from a lowly archer.

His men retreated around the
body, protecting it with their shields.  Their brave defence
of their liege lord made our task even easier and soon we were
despatching the badly wounded, who refused to give up their
defence. Before I had time to check on my men I turned to see Sweyn
stride up to Earl Tostig as he killed the last of the men who stood
before them.  Tostig, like my brother was armoured and had not
fought in the front rank. Like my brother, his blade was clean and
he was facing an exhausted opponent.  No man stirred to help
Sweyn and yet I knew beyond all doubt that he would defeat the
traitor. I could see the fear and resignation on his face.  I
could almost read the thoughts which said he should have accepted
his half brother’s offer instead he was fighting a warrior whom he
knew could defeat him.

Sweyn’s shield was around his
back and he was wielding his axe.  Tostig had his shield and a
sword.  It was an unfair fight and Tostig, who was an
experienced warrior, should have been able to deal with the oldest
warrior in the English ranks but he did not.  The shield parry
was half hearted and the back swing of the axe caused sparks and
pieces of metal to fly from the renegade’s sword. Sweyn was pushing
forwards and Tostig was struggling to keep his feet. Had he stood
he might have had a chance but he was so busy watching his feet
that he did not block the axe blow which broke his arm.  The
shield dropped, still attached to his arm by a leather strap. 
He desperately tried to raise the sword and block the axe but the
blade slid along the sword and with no shield to stop it sliced
into neck of Earl Tostig.  The momentum carried the blade
through and the half severed head fell to one side before dropping
to the floor. As the rest of the army saw their leaders fall they
began to flee.

I was just about to shout,

After them,
’ when I heard a wail from Branton.  “My
lord, behind us!”

I turned and saw Eystein Orri
and the guards from the boats, fully armed and armoured racing
towards the rear rank of the Housecarls. “Ridley, Ulf, turn! 
Shield wall!”

We had little time to ready
ourselves other than to lock shields and prepare to meet what the
Norse later called, Orri’s Storm. I do not know, but I believe that
Orri must have seen his future father in law fall to Branton’s
arrow for they came at us with an unbelievable fury. We barely had
time to raise our shields. They were not in a cohesive mass and
came at us piecemeal; none the less they were a handful.  I
heard a cry to my left of ‘
Coxold
’ and knew that Ridley had
seen our dilemma and was bringing the right flank to aid us. 
I hoped they would reach us in time for Sweyn and the Housecarls
were almost spent. The first warrior to attack me had outrun Orri
and he slashed at my spear with his sword.  Sparks flew as the
metal crashed.  I punched at his shield and he spun around
slightly. I was regretting my spear for, with his sword he could
get in closer, but I knew that as soon as I dropped Boar Splitter,
he would gut me. I had to close with him and I did something he did
not expect.  I stabbed down on his foot with the spear and
pinned it to the ground.  Pulling my dagger from behind my
shield I pushed forwards so that he fell to the ground. I am a big
man and heavy as well, our combined weight took us both downwards
and his foot was ripped in two by my spear.  As he opened his
mouth to scream I rammed my dagger into his open mouth and he
died.  I leapt to my feet looking for my next opponent as I
drew my own sword. Luckily for us and sadly for some of them they
had run from Riccall in mail armour carrying shield and axe on the
hottest September day any of us could remember, as we watched some
of them died on their feet as their hearts gave out but the rest
still fought in fierce anger. They were brave and tough warriors
and we had the hardest fighting of the whole day.  It was like
drunken men trying to fight each other wielding weapons which
seemed inordinately heavy. 

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