Duke of Normandy Read online

  Æbbi Bonecrusher shouted, “Throwers! Use fire! Let us see these treacherous Danish bastards!”

  Fire was dangerous but we had stone walls and we had water. We had placed braziers close by the stone throwers. The missiles were made of old dried rope coiled into a ball and soaked in oil. They were placed in the throwers and hauled back. They would be ignited only at the very moment that they were released. Even if we did not hit their ships they would illuminate the sky. I heard the clash of steel as Danes made the top of the wall. They began hammering with their axes on our gate. It was a futile gesture for the gate was studded with huge iron bolts. Not only did they strengthen and brace the gate they also blunted axes.

  The walls were suddenly lit as though the sun had risen when the four missiles were ignited. They soared and arced at different times. When men’s faces were seen then arrows, stones and other missiles were sent at them. I saw that one drekar had already been holed by a couple of stones and was listing. Only one of our flaming missiles struck a drekar and the crew quickly extinguished it by throwing it into the river but the damage had been done. The crews of the war machines adjusted their aim.

  “Lord, they have made the fighting platform.” Petr pointed forty paces from us where I saw the Danes gaining a foothold.

  It was inevitable some Danes would defeat the men of my town. “Æbbi, Harold, Egil, with me. Petr, Haaken, hold here!”

  I swung my shield around and ran down the fighting platform. It was wide enough for three normal men but I filled it. Harold and Æbbi followed me with Egil as a reserve and to guard our backs. I saw Sven the Smith felled by an axe. He had slain two Danes and slowed their progress but he had paid the price. As his killer swung around I brought my sword from on high. The Dane’s axe swung towards me but Long Sword out ranged him and it struck his shoulder. I must have broken a bone for he dropped his shield and I punched him from my wall with my shield. Æbbi Bonecrusher ducked beneath a sword and rammed his own up into the skull of a second Dane.

  “Lord, they are behind us!”

  I whirled and saw that more Danes had climbed to the fighting platform and Egil was fighting two of them. Harold Strong Arm was my oldest warrior but he had lost none of his skills and he whirled around. His right arm was a blur as he brought his own sword down onto the head of the nearest Dane. Egil was holding his own. I saw that there were two men on the fighting platform and another climbing. “Æbbi, throw the bodies over the wall. Clear the ladder!”

  “Aye lord.” There was the sudden roar of flames climbing into the sky. It distracted one of the Danes on the fighting platform. A warrior could not afford to be distracted. My sword hacked him almost in two. His companion took a step back and I ran at him. I almost slipped in the blood from the man I had just slain but I kept my feet and, pulling my arm back, rammed it deep into the last Dane’s chest. From the ladder came a crash and cries as Æbbi Bonecrusher dropped a mailed body over the side. It was the end of resistance. The last men who had made our walls were killed. I turned and looked at the river. One drekar, heavily over laden, was heading downstream. A second was on fire and one had but its mast showing above the river for it had been sunk. We had won!

  I turned to Egil, “You did well there.”

  He shook his head, “But Harold killed them. I did not.”

  Harold put his arm around the youth. “You faced two fierce Danes and did not falter. I have been killing men since before you were born as has Æbbi. You will do, Egil Flame Bearer. Our lord has made a good choice for the one who will carry his standard.”

  By the time dawn came we had cleared all of the enemy dead. There was no sign of Godfrid. He had fled. Padraig and Egil stayed with me as we wandered the river bank. We found none alive until we reached a small clump of reeds and overgrown shrubs. I spied something moving in the reeds. It was Egil who spotted the wounded Dane. He was trying to crawl to the river. Egil drew his sword. I said, “Hold!”

  He stopped. “He is a Dane, lord! He tried to kill us!”

  I shook my head, “No, Egil, he followed his lord and obeyed him. There is a difference. See he has barely begun to shave.” The Dane had turned his head at the sound of our voices. I saw that his face had been badly burned. He wore no mail and he was young. I put his age at less than fourteen summers. He flailed his arm around.

  Padraig said, quietly, “He cannot see. The flames have burned his eyes.”

  Padraig spoke in Norse and the boy keened, “Then kill me now! Give me the warrior’s death I beg of you!”

  He held up a hand for a sword. I drew my dagger and my short sword. Padraig shouted, “Lord, I pray you, hold.”

  “The boy is blind. Better he dies quickly than…”

  “Than what, lord? Is life so worthless that you would throw it away?”

  “He will have a warrior’s death!”

  “How about a warrior’s life?”

  “Egil is correct, he fought us and he lost. There is no dishonour in a death with a sword in your hand.”

  Padraig’s eyes pleaded with me, “Lord, I ask for little. I do not condemn and I do not preach. Give me this soul for I would save both his eyes and his life.”

  I knelt next to the youth. “What is your name?” He said nothing. “I am Lord Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson, Lord of Rouen. Hear my voice.” He nodded. “I hold your life in the palm of my hand but life is precious. I would not extinguish a life without good cause. What is your name?”

  “Godwin Godwinson. Kill me lord.”

  “I have a priest here. He is a good man. He would save your life and give you back your sight.”

  “Is he a galdramenn?”

  I smiled even though the youth could not see the smile, “He has skills and he keeps his word. If he cannot give you back your sight and you still wish it then I swear that I will give you a warrior’s death myself. What say you? Are there still things you wish to do?”

  He nodded, “This was my first raid. I was given life by Godfrid’s father. I felt honour bound to serve his son.”

  “And you have done that. Your lord is gone. He left with little honour. You have honour. Have life.”

  After a short time, he nodded, “If your wizard priest cannot save my sight then I choose death.”

  I stood, “Good.” I turned to Padraig, “You have made a bargain here, Padraig. I hope that you can deliver.”

  He made the sign of the cross, “Aye lord, as do I but I see hope in this young man and I see the future. The Good Lord has sent him to me and I promise that I will do all that I can to save his sight.” I nodded. “Egil, help me raise him to his feet.”

  I watched the two of them as they helped the maimed warrior and took him inside my walls. I could hear the webs being woven. This was truly wyrd. Godfrid had not finished with me but I did not worry about him. He lacked subtlety. He might still be a nuisance as Beorn Straight Hair was but I could deal with nuisances. King Alan of the Bretons and Æðelwald of Remisgat were a different matter. If I was to defeat them then I would need to be as cunning as they were. Was I up to the challenge?

  Chapter 7

  Egil seemed to feel a sort of responsibility towards Godwin. My standard bearer was but a little older than he was. His concern meant that he spent a little more time inside my hall than outside as he helped Padraig to minister to the Dane. I was still trying to come up with a plan which would defeat the Bretons when he came to me. I was in my quiet chamber looking west. I had my charts and my lists. I also had some of Dómhildr’s latest brew and I was enjoying it. He tapped on the door and I frowned. I enjoyed my solitude. I sighed, “Come!”

  He shuffled in, “I am sorry lord but …”

  “How is Godwin?”

  “Padraig can truly make magic. Godwin can see light. He no longer lives in a dark world. He is now trying to raise the Dane’s spirits. He is alone in the world. Each day his world gets brighter and there is a little more hope.”

  “Then I am pleased.” I looked at him. He had come to me with anothe
r purpose. “And…?”

  “Yes lord. I have not forgotten the task with which I was charged. I have seen strangers entering the town. They are all priests and they all visit with Æðelwald of Remisgat. They come every three days. Sometimes they are alone and sometimes they are in company. He sees them alone and then they leave. They rarely stay more than an hour.”

  I began to feel excited. I had proof. Padraig had been tasked with watching the priest. He had not reported visitors. That was because he had not seen them as a threat. They were priests! “Egil, the next time one comes I would have you follow them. I just need to know which road they take. Do not risk your life. You still have much to do. Godwin was sent as a lesson to us all. Heed it.”

  “I will lord.”

  After he had gone I looked west along the river. I had sent Gandálfr with ‘Wolf’s Snout’ to ensure that they had gone without causing too much mischief. Godfrid and his last ship had long gone. They had raided the land at the mouth of the river but they had not hurt my people. The animals they had lost could be replaced and the houses which had been destroyed could be rebuilt. Godfrid would remain a problem so long as he was alive but the world was wide and there were many seas. He could cause trouble but it was equally likely that he could come to harm. He struck me as a reckless youth. A more serious problem lay to the south of me. The Bretons had not responded to my taunt. That was worrying. My lords were still building up their forces. The losses at Carentan had been heavy. Had Godfrid come as an ally then we might have had sufficient men to make war sooner. Since Guthrum had converted, the Vikings who lived in the Danelaw seemed less belligerent. It was as though becoming Christian had sucked the fight from them.

  I took a decision. “Harold Strong Arm!”

  My oathsworn joined me as soon as the sentry summoned him. “Aye lord?”

  “Tomorrow we ride abroad. Have ten men prepared and a horse for William. It is time that my son saw some of the land he will one day rule.”

  It was not a long ride I planned. Erik Gillesson’s horse farm was within riding distance of the river. Egil had told me that the priests who saw Æðelwald of Remisgat did not come across the river. That meant the land south of the Seine was free of spies. There might be danger and there might be enemies. By riding south, I would make Æðelwald of Remisgat curious. He would want to report it to his master. I was spreading bait and I hoped the priest would take it.

  William had a copy of the blue cloak my oathsworn wore. The first men to wear it had been Alan of Auxerre and his horsemen. The long sword on the breast was also my sign, Long Sword. I had contemplated making it red and using the yellow horse but decided against it. The dark blue cloaks helped to hide us for they were dark. William was pleased to be wearing the same as my oathsworn. He also wanted one of the helmets we wore. He was too young and too small to need one but he looked enviously at my men as they donned theirs. I hung mine from my saddle. We crossed the river on the ferry. I think my wife had given up on William for she did not come to say goodbye. Sprota and Popæg did. Popæg shouted, “Heed your father Master William.” I saw her glance at me. “And do not fall from your horse. I do not want to have to mend a broken coxcomb!” The last words were aimed at me.

  Snorri shook his head, “For a slave that one has a mouth on her, lord. She needs a good beating!”

  William frowned, “Popæg is a kind lady. I will not allow her to be hit.”

  Snorri laughed, “She has a defender then eh, Master William? Good! You are on the way to becoming a man.”

  William stroked his pony. This would be the first time he had ridden his animal away from the confines of Rouen. “My father is training me in the ways of war.” He looked at me, “When will I have a sword, father?”

  “When you can lift my short sword with two hands then you can have a seax made.”

  I saw his eyes light up. My short sword would still be too heavy for him for some time.

  On the other side of the river we mounted and Æbbi Bonecrusher rode on one side of William while I rode on the other. It meant William could only see ahead but he did not appear to mind and I watched his face as he took in every word of our conversation. I was taking in the farmers in their fields. These were the ones who would follow Erik and Bagsecg into battle. They had fields filled with animals and with crops. They waved. Those on the road spoke to us and thanked me for the peace they enjoyed. These were the warriors who had given up the sword. They could and would fight for me but these would not go a-Viking. They had given up the drekar and taken up the plough.

  Æbbi shook his head, “I do not think I could be a farmer, lord.”

  “Me neither but they are necessary. Their taxes allow me to keep many men under arms. I think that is why the Bretons have yet to react to our attack. Every farm we have seen has had all the farmers and their families working. It will be the same in the land of the Bretons. This is not like Norway nor the land of Danelaw. Here a warrior can make war in winter. They will attack but it will be after Haustmánuður. That is why we ride. I would be ready by Tvímánuður. I intend to ask Bagsecg to have his men ride abroad. At the end of the week we will ride to Carentan and I will speak with Saxbjǫrn. He is in the most parlous position.”

  My lieutenant nodded, “When Halfi Axe Tongue lost Benni’s Ville it put the Bretons close to Saxbjǫrn. I wondered why you did not try to retake it, lord.” There was no criticism in his words merely curiosity.

  “When the town and port fell all of our people were killed. So many men were lost that we would not have had enough people to populate it. I know we lost our only port on the west coast of the Cotentin but had we tried to regain it then we would have bled our men away for no good purpose.”

  We rode in silence. I know that the land my grandfather had taken with the Clan of the Horse was now the most vulnerable. That had been the result of my brother. We now had four strongholds and each was vulnerable to an attack from the Bretons. We needed a battle where we could use our skill to defeat the Bretons and force a peace upon them. I needed Alan of Vannes to cede the Cotentin to us. To do that I had to hurt him.

  Erik had a good home. Montfort was well named. He had built a wall and had a strong hall which could be defended. The Risle river gave him protection on three sides too. The bottom of his hall was a stable. He could keep fifty horses there. Erik and his family were horsemen. The crops they raised were to feed their animals as well as them. Their whole purpose was to breed horses. Uniquely amongst the men who followed me, Bagsecg and his warriors did not wear mail. The blood of the Franks coursed through their veins and they were horsemen. The lack of mail meant they could cover greater distances without damaging their horses.

  “Erik, we need to know what is happening along our borders. I need you to send your men, in secret, to look for signs of the Bretons.”

  He nodded, “There has been little sign of movement, lord. Here we are further away from the Bretons than any.”

  “Aye, I know. I will ride to Evreux and see if they have news.”

  Erik frowned, “But they are further away from the Bretons than us.”

  I nodded, “Yet they are closer to the Franks. We are at peace and I have kept the peace but news from Wessex and Cent makes me think that this is an illusion and they are trying to trick us. If your riders see signs of any armed men then I need to know. By Tvímánuður we will be ready to attack and your men will be the screen of horsemen who finds our enemies.”

  Nefgeirr had been lord of Evreux but only for a short time. Now Bjorn the Brave was lord there. He and Leif Shield Bearer had asked for the honour of defending our most vulnerable of settlements. It was just over fifty miles to Paris. The Seine was less than eighteen miles north. If trouble came then it would take some time to bring aid to them. They were brave men. My best archer, Petr Jorgensen, lived here too along with Arne Three Toes. All of them had proven to be rocks in battle. I did not expect trouble at Evreux but I felt honour bound to visit with them.

  They had built
a wooden wall and dug a ditch since the last time I had visited. A gate house had two men upon it watching. We must have been spied from some distance for Bjorn and Leif greeted me. Both were bare chested.

  “We were hewing trees and clearing a wood, lord. This is good land. Come, we hunted yesterday and there is haunch of venison. You might like the ale here although it is not as good as Dómhildr’s.”

  We dismounted and left our horses drinking from the water trough. Bjorn and his men rode abroad. My son looked around him for this was unlike the world of Rouen. Here the houses had turf for their roof. There was no stone to be seen anywhere. Most of the activities, such as weaving, bread making, pot making and the like took place in the open. The children of the settlement had no time to play. They helped their parents in whatever trade they plied. He was a clever boy and I saw him take it all in. We entered the warrior hall which was a large communal hall. Thralls brought over the platters of cold meats and the horns of ale. Bjorn’s wife, Ada, watered some down for William.

  “Have you seen any warriors in this land?”

  The two men looked at each other, “Strange that you should ask that, lord. Three days ago we found the tracks of horses heading north and east, towards Paris. Petr back tracked them. They had come from the south west. Yesterday he and Arne took four men to follow the trail.”

  “You thought them to be Bretons?”

  “Possibly. If they were not Bretons then they had passed very close to Breton land. King Charles’ men tend to keep north of the Seine or east of Dreux. Count Odo controls Paris.” We had fought Frank and Breton at Dreux. They both knew that we would contest any land which lay to the north and west of that line.

  “Then we will wait until he returns. This is an itch I cannot scratch. I am unable to see what the horses mean.”