Ravensworn, page 23
For the first time since the battle’s end, I allowed myself to think of what happened next. Red Beard was coming back, at least he had said as much, but when? Hengist would be chomping at the bit to reach to me I knew, but how fast could he mobilise a force to march at us? And what would his father do to stop him? If anything? And then there was the matter of the other letters I had sent south with our women and children. I could only pray they had reached their intended destination.
As it happened, I had my answer soon enough. I heard the scout before I saw him, boots scuffing on the dirt road as he ran. He stopped before me, leaning on his knees and painting. He was a callow youth of no more than sixteen, a pox marked face beneath a quiff of dark hair. ‘Men… are… coming,’ he said through ragged breaths.
‘Who’s men? How far away?’
‘Don’t know who,’ the lad said, recovering his breath at last. ‘But I was told no more than five miles south, coming up the western beach. My brother reckoned there were two hundred of them.’
I nodded, remembering the system I’d put in place. This lad would not have seen the enemy, but the man who had run a mile or two to him – his brother it would seem – had. ‘You’ve done well, go inside and get yourself some food.’
Needing no encouragement, the scout scampered off into the fortress. I stood a moment longer, closing my eye and hearing the sighing of the sea off to my left. Looking up at the sun, I saw to my dismay there was four or even five hours of daylight left. They would be here today, whoever they were, and we would have to fight again.
I walked back inside the fortress, climbed the southern battlement and ordered the guard there to run to Hilde and let her know the news. I stood there when he had gone, squinting off to the south west. I thought I could make out the faint haze of a dust cloud, though I couldn’t be sure.
Returning to the hall, I threw back on my mail and fastened my helmet, seeing with surprise a new dent on the top. I didn’t remember taking the blow, but such is war. My shield was half bent with a great chunk taken out where I had painted on the raven’s eye, but I figured it had seen me through one battle, it could last another. Hilde and Eadger appeared at the front of our band of men. They cantered into the open ground with a mixture of surprise and dismay written on their faces.
‘Is it true?’ Eadger asked.
I nodded. ‘Aye. Seems our day’s work isn’t done yet. Come, we’ll go to the southern gate and see what we can see.’
The sun had moved a finger’s breadth to the west, I reckoned, as I stood once more on the southern battlement. To my alarm the dust cloud was visible now, easily so, and didn’t appear to be further than a mile away. Another runner reached the southern gate, just as breathless as the last. ‘Men coming,’ was all he said, throwing an arm in their general direction.
‘How are they so close?’ I demanded of him. ‘The boy earlier said they were five miles south!’
‘Aye, they were. But that was two hours or more ago.’
Cursing, I walked to the south west point of the battlement and squinted. ‘They’ll be here in an hour, no more,’ Hilde said in a grim tone.
‘Are there any more of you out there?’ I said to the boy, whose cheeks flushed redder.
‘There was me and my brother, lord, though I reckon you’ve already seen him. Ain’t seen any others for a couple of days now.’
I cursed again. Cursed the lazy scouts for their tardiness, cursed myself for putting too much faith in them. My gaze roamed the south east, hoping, praying, I’d see a runner come from that direction, but there was none.
‘Shut this gate,’ I said, turning to Hilde. ‘The men need to eat and drink their fill, then come here ready to fight. How many have we got left standing?’
‘Twenty dead, ten wounded,’ Eadger replied with a heavy frown.
That was a blow. We’d no more than sixty fighting men left, though I reasoned that we’d killed four times that and more in a fight with the raiders from across the sea. In any other circumstance I’d consider that a fair result, but we were in dire need of men. I made my face a mask and nodded. ‘Bar this gate.’
The men ate their oats in grim silence. Some muttered to each other, there were solemn hugs and a few tears for wives and children that would never be seen again. But by the gods they were a proud bunch. Every man stood tall, chests puffed out, ready to go the Heroes Hall if it meant his brothers could fight on a little longer. I’m not ashamed to admit that a tear or two pricked my eye as I stood watching them. They had been through so much, suffered such a cruel fate. And they hadn’t seen the worst of it yet.
The gate was barred and I stood atop the battlement when our newest enemy came into view. Hengist rode a fine grey horse at their head, his flushed face already carrying the spark of victory as he rode up and down the mud road in front of his men, mail glimmering in the late afternoon sun. ‘Is that the great lord Alaric I see up there? Hiding behind his rotten walls?’ His voice was high and thick with mirth.
‘Just having a little rest. We’ve had quite a day of it, slaughtering men is tiring work,’ I said, to a ragged cheer from the men of the Cimbri. ‘Give us an hour to rest up and we’ll be more than ready to do the same to you, insolent pup!’
‘I crossed blades with you once before, old man. I have a war host at my back now, rather than twelve boys. I would not be so confident.’
I didn’t reply, but looked out at the men he had brought to bring my death. They were two hundred strong, or there abouts, and every one looked a hardened killer. I saw gnarled faces, scarred and weathered, armoured in good mail with swords at their hips and spears in hand. We couldn’t beat them, not in open battle. I would have to lean on the Sly One once more, if I was to lead my men to another victory. ‘Ludwig thought he had the better of me, as you did when you came across our crew on that beach. I stand here, one eyed, greying, with aching bones and lines on my face. But how do you think it is I came to be so old? I’m a hard man to kill, young Hengist. I have fought Rome’s cursed legions in the south, faced the Batavi in the west, and waged a war against the Suebi in the north. Men call me the great lord Alaric because that is what I am! I’ve earned my name boy, and if you come to take this gate, you’ll find out why.’
My men roared at that. Eadger thumped me on the back as I turned away from Hengist, showing him my back, I made my way down the stairs, out of his sight. Red Beard would be down there somewhere, though my one eye hadn’t spotted him. It did no harm to remind him who he was facing, or the men that had marched north for the promise of Roman gold from Hengist’s hand. I was old, yes, certainly past my prime. But I have always been a proud man, and that pride would not let me bow down to some pup with thoughts high above his station.
I stood at the bottom of the rickety wooden steps and basked in the cheers of the men. Smiling at them, feeling a renewed purpose, I called for Hilde and Eadger, and together we moved away to make our plans.
‘We can’t face them in open battle,’ Eadger hissed, not wanting to be overheard.
‘Neither can we stand behind these walls,’ Hilde retorted. I looked from one to the other, a half-smile dancing on my lips. Sedric was making his way towards us, Kai not far behind. I saw Rudi and Mellow leaning against a wall, blood-stained faces huddled together as they shared a small moment of privacy. Rolf came over grinning, his smile revealing three missing teeth from the top of his mouth. ‘Never been much of a chewer, lord,’ he said to me with a shrug, and I could only laugh in return.
‘So what are we to do?’ Sedric asked, the cut above his eye still leaking blood.
‘You are going to go to Isvilt and get that eye properly seen to,’ I said to him. ‘The rest of you are going to get the men to gather as much firewood by the southern gate as you can. Have we any oil left?’
There had been a few amphorae of oil in the hall when I first arrived, and they’d still been there the day Wilhelm was killed. ‘Think so, I’ll check with Isvilt,’ Hilde said. ‘Why?’
***
It took an hour to get enough wood to the southern gate. We dumped it on the mud under the battlement, and Isvilt brought the last of the oil out to us. ‘Won’t be any left for cleaning your kit,’ she muttered, handing it over to me.
‘If we get through this,’ I said to her. ‘I’ll never need mail again.’
I was back atop the battlement, watching with something close to admiration as I saw what our enemy had been about. Hengist was building a ram. Four small trunks had been cut down and fastened together with rope, and even as I watched a team of men were lifting their creation, testing its weight and how fast they could move encumbered with it. ‘Wotan’s eye,’ I muttered. ‘But he might actually turn out to be quite good at this.’
‘Only if we let him live long enough to learn,’ Sedric said at my side. His head was wrapped in blood-stained bandages, and he squinted out of his left eye. I thought once more how stupid it had been of me to bring the young man here, of all the things he could have been experiencing instead.
‘We’ll get through this,’ I said to him, with more confidence than I felt.
‘You’ve seen is this far, lord. We’ll follow you to the Heroes Hall if need be.’
I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
It seemed they were ready with their ram, and I was cursing our lack of archers when I saw movement off to the southeast. A lone figure appeared from behind a clutch of bushes, waving manically to us on the wall. ‘Look lord!’ Sedric exclaimed, pointing out the man.
‘Put your hand down,’ I hissed. ‘We don’t want our new friends down there to spot him.’ It was one of the scouts I’d had posted on the eastern coast, it had to be. He waved to us once more, frantically pointed back the way he had come, and disappeared back behind the bushes. ‘Your eyes are better than my one,’ I said to Sedric. ‘Can you make anything out in the south east?’ I was squinting, my mouth suddenly dry as my heart thumped with anticipation.
‘There’s a dust cloud, lord. Small, maybe five or six miles off?’ He turned to look at me. ‘Who could it be?’
My face split into a triumphant grin. ‘My dear father-in-law, who else?’
I’d written three letters when I sent the women and children south. One to Haribert, begging he take our people in, and also informing him of my suspicions of his son. I hadn’t expected him to act on it, in fact I thought he’d have read the words with glee, learning what plans his son had put in motion. The other two had gone further south. One to Saxa, my wife. I had explained our dire situation, told her where to dig to find the last of my silver should I not come back, and also asked if she would perhaps put in a word for me to her father, Dagr.
Dagr was chief of the Chauci, the tribe into which I had been born. I considered myself an exile of the Chauci, though in reality that was more self-imposed. I’d had no need to cross blades with the men of my own tribe until Dagr had allied himself to the Suebi, and I had waged war on that formidable tribe. A war that would end in defeat, embarrassment, and six years of shame. Not to mention me killing Dagr’s son.
But none the less, my last letter had been to Dagr himself. I had begged on behalf of his daughter and grandsons, and promised I would serve him in war if the need if arose, if only he would march north in force and save my worthless arse. It seemed my letter, coupled with his daughter’s pleas, had been enough.
‘There’s another one, lord. South west, look.’ Sedric once more held out a hand, and I followed his pointed figure to the horizon, where sure enough, another dust cloud kicked up in the sea breeze.
‘Shit.’ Who could that be? Only Haribert. ‘Who’s closer, do you think?’
Sedric took a moment, head craning left and right. ‘Neck and neck,’ he said after a while. Below us Hengist’s men were readying their ram, men surrounding them with shields. They were coming. ‘The carts that had the amber in, where are they?’ There had been four cats of amber, the promised payment for my services – in that Wilhelm had at least been honest. We had unloaded the amber on to the Celox, and although I feared the extra weight may have been too much for the small ship to bear, I’d reasoned that if the need for me to leave in a hurry arose, I would at least be getting away with the amber.
‘They’re in an alley, lord, just the other side of the hall.’
‘Grab a couple of men and bring one up.’
I vaulted down the steps, throwing on my helmet and fastening it as I called for Hilde and Eadger. ‘They’re coming, get the men ready.’
‘Should we not have men on the battlements?’ Hilde asked.
‘To do what? Assault them with colourful language? We’ve no artillery, it is a waste of time and men. And anyway, I have a plan.’ I didn’t tell them about Dagr, didn’t see the point unless the old rogue got his men there in time to save us.
Just as the men were finishing their preparations, there was a roar from outside the gate, and then an almighty crash. The crumbling gates baulked under the weight of the ram, and for a moment I was sure the walls themselves would come tumbling down. But they held. Every man took an involuntary step back, heads swivelling over shoulders, making sure their escape routes were clear. ‘Hold your positions!’ I called. ‘I want a wall of shields, facing the gate here.’ I drew a line in the mud with the end of my sword, and Hilde soon had them in a line of sorts, though none of them looked too keen to my eye.
Sedric appeared with Kai, Rudi and Mellow, pushing the two wheeled cart up the street. I ran to the pile of wood just inside the gate, as the ram smashed into it once more, sending splinters flying to me like daggers. ‘Quick, load it on!’ I said to them, and the five of us hastily loaded the cart with the fire wood. ‘What are we doing this for? Rudi asked, gasping for breath from his exertions. ‘Get me a flame and I’ll show you.’
Kai covered the wood with the last of the oil, there wasn’t as much as I’d hoped, but it covered the majority. Rudi came running back with a flaming torch, the gate was struck once more and it seemed the wood groaned on the impact. One more push and they would be through. Let the bastards come, I thought.
‘I’ll let you do the honours,’ I gestured to Rudi, and I saw his eyes light up the moment he realised my intentions. He threw the torch onto the cart. For a moment, nothing happened, and I feared the wood was damp or the oil had no effect. But then the flame roared and spread, licking up as the fire consumed all it could touch. I grinned, and gestured for Kai and Sedric to join me. ‘When the gate gives way, we push this through the gap. There’ll be two hundred warriors pouring through behind it, expecting nothing more than a thin shield wall to hold them back.’
‘They’ll shit themselves,’ Sedric said through a grin. Kai made a growling noise from the base of this throat, then grimaced as his smile caused his wounded face to spasm in pain.
I hunched down behind the cart, sparks flying around my face, engulfed in a wave of heat. I felt the tremors in the ground as Hengist’s men ran up to the gate once more, and with an almighty bang it finally gave way. There was a ragged cheer as warriors dropped their cumbersome ram, and began to stream through the opening.
They didn’t get far.
We pushed off, the two wheeled cart light enough, even with the flaming inferno on top. We heaved as hard as we could, ran five, six steps, then let its momentum do the rest. It smashed into a wall of men and metal, hurtling them aside, it bumped its way through, rolling down the mud outside the fortress before finally toppling over and coming to a stop. It had done its job.
Hengist’s men recoiled, some crushed by the weight of the cart and were lying unmoving in the mud, others clawed at burnt faces with charred hands. Others stood with their backs to the wall, white faced, shocked at what had just happened to them. I didn’t intend to give them a chance to recover.
With a war cry to wake the gods I was at them, slashing a burning man with my sword before ducking under a spear and skewering a warrior still recoiling from the flames that licked at his face. Sedric and Kai flanked me, both of them snatching a life with their first action. Eadger and Hilde led the last of our men in a charge. Sixty brave men of the Cimbri, the last of a dying tribe, smashed into Hengist’s men in a devastating wave, forcing them back out of the gate they had worked so hard to break down.
It was carnage, butchery, and I was in my element. I slashed a man’s hamstrings then caved in a helmet. I battered a spear away with my shield and jabbed its owner through the mouth, my sword digging into the back of his skull. I was a lord of death once more, and no one could match me.
‘Shields!’ Hilde was bellowing, somewhere off to my left. I was annoyed at her command, so intent on chasing down the warriors that fled before us. But then I saw what she saw. Hengist was forming his own wall, half way down the gentle slope that led from the southern gate. The cart burned behind them, black smoke billowing up into the darkening sky. I cursed, joined in Hilde’s cry and in no time we had our own wall formed, both narrower and shallower than the one of our enemy.
Our men were panting, weary, they had been fighting all day. But Hengist’s men had been marching in their armour, encumbered by their shields and weapons, and I reckoned we could still take them. The air was full of the cries of the dying. Charred men lay in ruins in the mud, I saw one man, half his face a burned-out wreck, gurgling a stifled scream. I put him out of his misery.
‘Reckon we thinned them out well enough,’ Eadger said, wiping blood off his face with his mail.
Looking at their numbers, I thought maybe sixty of them were dead. That was good going, don’t get me wrong, but they still outnumbered us two to one. ‘We just need to buy some time,’ I said more to myself than Eadger. The sun was waning now, out in the west, the sky a purple hue. How much longer until Dagr reached us? Or Haribert from the west?
