The Bastard's Crown Page 15

  The Earls Morcar and Edwin had joined battle with the Norse army at Fulford Bridge and had been heavily defeated by the superior numbers of the enemy. The survivors fled to York where they were besieged by the Norsemen. King Harold was incensed when he found out that York had surrendered after only a token resistance when he was only a day away from the city. He had left the southern fyrd behind to watch the coast for the Normans and only took his mounted housecarls north, collecting the Mercian fyrd on the way.

  After the surrender of York peace terms were agreed with the two earls, which included the collection of one hundred and fifty children of the nobility and the thanes. Harald Hadrada and a third of his men waited at Stamford Bridge for the hostages to be delivered whilst the rest of the army returned to their fleet as Vikings never liked to be too far from their ships. The Norse army were relaxed and under the delusion that they had control of the north so the speed of Harold’s advance caught them totally unprepared.

  The next morning dawned bright, clear and warm. King Harold arrived at York at nine o’clock in the morning to find the city undefended. Learning about the force waiting for the hostages at Stamford Bridge, Harold immediately set out again. The Norsemen were relaxing in the sun, having taken their heavy armour off and some had set off to forage. They had neglected to put scouts out and therefore the sight of the English army advancing over the brow of a nearby hill only a short distance away induced a panic.

  Oswin and Wulfric were in the front rank with Cenric on one side and Esa on the other. They broke into a run as they neared the confused enemy and started to cut them down. Eventually the Norsemen organised themselves into a defensive line but few had found their shields or axes in time and so were mainly armed with just swords. About a third of the enemy were on one side of the river and the rest on the far bank. Instead of coming to the aid of their hard pressed colleagues on the near bank they rushed about collecting such armour as they could find and putting it on.

  Oswin and his companions eventually reached the narrow wooden bridge over the river to find it defended by a huge Norwegian wielding a double handled axe. There was only room for two abreast on the bridge and the giant warrior was cutting down all who tried to dislodge him. The planking in front of him was littered with mutilated bodies and more lay in the water.

  Wulfric took one look at the situation and, picking up a discarded spear, he slipped into the river and waded under the bridge. The water came up to his chest by the time he had reached the point directly under the huge Norwegian. Grabbing the spear with both hands he pushed it through a gap in the planks and up between the muscular legs of the bridge’s defender. When it met the resistance offered by his groin he thrust it firmly into his abdomen. The man’s scream ended as, distracted by the acute pain, he lowered his guard and an English sword cut into his neck, severing his spinal cord. He hung there for a moment and then toppled sideways over the bridge parapet into the water to come to rest amongst those he had killed.

  With a roar the English pounded over the bridge. Their enemy should have prepared a defence on the other end of the bridge but, taken by surprise, they were still disorganised and the English bridgehead had been established by the time that they began to form a shield wall. Oswin and Cenric stopped when they got to the far bank and pulled Wulfric from the water.

  The battle was now more evenly matched. Hadrada sent riders back to the fleet to bring the rest of the army up and then he finished forming the shield wall by curving the ends to prevent his line being outflanked by the more numerous English.

  Oswin, Wulfric, Esa and Cenric found themselves at the rear but they soon elbowed their way to the front where there was fierce hand to hand fighting. The Saxons pushed the Norse line back and, because of its curved ends, it began to thin. Oswin was scarcely conscious of the sword wound to his upper arm until the blood pouring down his arm reached the handle of his sword and it became too slippery to hold. Wulfric pulled him to the rear and tore off a length of his tunic to bind the wound before they resumed the fight.

  Almost as soon as they had re-joined the battle Oswin tripped over a corpse and fell against the man in front of him. He glanced down and saw to his sorrow Esa’s sightless eyes staring back up at him. In a frenzy now, he picked up a discarded two handed axe and tore into the Norse shield wall in a great frenzy, splintering shields and cracking open helmets and the skulls beneath them. Wulfric and Cenric guarded his flanks and within a minute this onslaught had broken the Norse shield wall. The English pushed through the gap and the two parts of the opposing line peeled back like the sea parting before the prow of a longship.

  Harald Hadrada had kept his personal bodyguard back in reserve and he now led them forward in a mad charge to repair the breach. But King Harold had placed his few bowmen in the few trees beside the river for just such a moment. Before Harald had reached the onrushing English an arrow took him in the throat and he dropped mortally wounded.

  Oswin and his friends sensed the Norse faltering as word of the Norwegian King’s death spread and they started to slaughter the enemy, who were on the point of flight. Then Tostig led his housecarls and the Flemish mercenaries forward but they were swiftly defeated. The English now wheeled their lines so as to trap the Norsemen between them and the Derwent. Many were cut down but many more were forced into the river and drowned. Within an hour it was all over and the English were left in possession of the battlefield.

  Oswin, Wulfric and Cenric found Esa and buried him where he lay. Many of the English army were doing the same; the Norse were stripped of armour and weapons and their bodies were left in piles for the birds to feast on. The three friends went up river to find clean water to wash the blood off themselves and to drink, for they were parched after the hot, exhausting work of fighting in heavy coats of mail under a hot sun. Wulfric sewed up Oswin’s arm; the cut was long but luckily it was only a flesh wound. Nevertheless, Oswin’s arm began to stiffen after a while so he could hardly use it.

  Then they heard the sounds of battle again coming from the south.

  ‘What’s going on?’ A bewildered Wulfric asked of no-one in particular.

  ‘More of the buggers have arrived, perhaps those who were left to guard the ships.’ Suggested Cenric.

  ‘You’re probably right, come on.’ Oswin gripped his sword in his left hand and set off grimly towards the site of the renewed fighting.

  When they got there the English had reformed their shield wall and were being attacked by Eyestein Orri, Harald’s son-in-law, who had been left in charge of the fleet. The numbers on both sides were evenly matched; the English were tired after a hard day’s fighting but the Norsemen were equally exhausted having just run nine miles in full armour under a hot sun. The two shield walls were stalemated. Oswin and his companions found themselves at the back so all they could do was heave against the row in front to hold the shield wall steady.

  Then a great cheer went up. Orri had led from the front and had paid with his life for this folly. Once he was killed the heart went out of the Norwegians. Their king and his son-in-law were dead and Hadrada’s son, Olaf the Quiet, had elected to stay with the fleet instead of leading them. Shortly afterwards their line broke and the English set off in pursuit harrying them all the way back to Riccall before darkness came and the slaughter ceased.

  Oswin, Wulfric and Cenric slept where they stopped and the next morning they saw a party of Norwegians make their way to where King Harold was standing under a flag of truce. They heard later that Olaf had sued for peace and Harold had agreed to allow the few survivors to leave in a handful of ships on condition that Olaf swore to maintain the peace whilst he lived. Once they had sailed away in a few tens of ships the English set about looting then burning the hundreds that remained.

  After a few day’s rest at York Harold and his housecarls set off for the journey south. The king had left instructions for the Northumbrians to muster and follow him but he had no great confidence that he would be obeyed. However, now that the t
hreat from Harald Hadrada had been dealt with, he was anxious to return to the greater one posed by the Normans.

  Four days later Cenric was feeding his horse when the saw the messenger ride into that night’s encampment in great haste yelling for the king. He went back to where the others had set up camp but they had already heard the news that that the Normans had landed.

  ~#~

  The news of Edward’s death was not unexpected; far from it. Nevertheless Duke William’s gut churned with excitement when he heard of Harold’s election as king. At last his chance to seize the crown of England had come. He immediately called a meeting of his inner council in order to start the ball rolling.

  ‘Now we can start to implement our plans. You are certain that the Pope will support our claim?’ He turned to the Archbishop of Rouen first.

  ‘I’m positive my lord. He has even promised us a papal banner to fly in our ranks to signify his support.

  ‘Good. Send an emissary with an escort to Rome today to bring back the banner. I want it done quickly so there is no place for an elder statesman this time. Send the young abbot of Bonport with Guillaume Peverel to command the escort as he has been there before.’

  ‘We need to give Harold a chance to see the error of his ways and to keep the oath he swore to me at Bayeux. He won’t, of course, but it is important to make the gesture. He turned to the count of Mortain. ‘Robert, can I trust this task to you. It shouldn’t take too long. I want you back here to get your men ready for the invasion as soon as possible.’

  ‘Of course, if that is what you want me to do. I am happy to join the invasion but there are many nobles in Normandy who have said that they want no part in it.’

  ‘I suggest we need to call a grand council of all the counts, viscounts and barons as soon as possible so we can tell them what they stand to gain from the venture. At the same time we can whisper in their ears the fate that will await them and their families if they prove disloyal.’ Bishop Odo looked around the room to see if any disagreed.

  ‘Good send out the summons for a grand council at Lillebonne for one month’s time. Now we also need to bring King Harald of Norway into the action. A pincer attack by us in the south and the Norwegians in the north will cause Harold to split his forces.’

  ‘Why should he help us?’ One of the barons wanted to know.

  ‘I’ll promise him the part of the kingdom that lies north of the old Danelaw whilst I take the south.’

  ‘But you will be giving up half the kingdom.’ The baron was aghast at the thought.

  The duke smiled coldly. ‘There is every chance that he will be defeated. If he isn’t, then we will just have to invade the north once we have subdued the south.’ He turned to Roger de Montgomery.

  ‘The one big drawback with our plans is that we have no ships to speak of. I want you to co-ordinate what we will need and see that they are built in time. Once we start to gather the invasion host they will need to be fed, paid and some will need to be equipped properly. I’m therefore appointing you as my marshal and putting you in charge of logistics. Are you prepared to take it on?’

  ‘Yes, my lord duke. I am honoured.’

  ‘Good. Do it well and I guarantee you an English earldom once we have won. The rest of you start to encourage your kin and your vassals to join me in this.’

  ~#~

  Hugo waved farewell to Sir Aylmer and rode out of the gates of Domfront with mixed feelings. He had come to regard the grim fortress as home and a place where he was a man of some consequence so he was sorry to leave. However, this was more than balanced by excitement at what lay ahead: the invasion of England and chance to distinguish himself and perhaps win a holding of his own. But even that thought was tinged with sadness. He had made some real friends like Oswin and he didn’t want to fight against them. He also worried about what might happen to Rowena, who he had never forgotten.

  Tristan rode beside his friend carrying a banner of three blue fleur de lys on a yellow ground as, like the rest of those from the Belleme lands, they were to join the Montgomery contingent. Behind them rode twenty knights, mostly the younger sons of those who owed knight’s service but all four of the household knights had also elected to come. Hugo feared that he had left Domfront poorly defended as half the sergeants, men at arms and archers had also joined him. They were supplemented by thirty more men at arms and archers recruited from the freemen on the estate. With the squires and a few camp followers such as a cook, a few servants, three stable boys and two washerwomen who doubled as whores, Hugo’s contingent totalled some one hundred and twenty.

  The assembly point was Dives near Caen. As the encampment came into view Hugo could hardly believe his eyes. Although his men had far less distance to travel than many others, the plain beside the river was already full of tents. He had expected that he and his contingent would camp together but as he approached the camp he was stopped.

  ‘Can you please report to the command tent over there.’ The sentry pointed to a large tent with another Montgomery banner flying over it. ‘Leave your men here for the moment.’

  Another sentry lifted the tent flap to allow Hugo to enter. Several men were gathered round a table deep in conversation. After a minute one looked up.

  ‘Who are you and what do you want?’

  ‘Sir Hugo de Cuille. I have brought the contingent from Domfront my lord.’

  ‘Ah, good. I’ll be with you in a few minutes. Help yourself to some wine.’ He indicated a table on which a pitcher of wine stood with several silver goblets.

  Ten minutes later the man who had spoken to him and another with red hair came over to him as the others filed out of the tent.

  ‘I’m Roger de Montgomery and this is Guy Melville, my marshal. He will show you and your men where to go to camp. You can stay together for now but later I’ll be forming each contingent into their fighting units.’ In response to Hugo look of puzzlement he explained ‘All the archers together, knights in conrois and so on. How many knights have you brought?’

  ‘One conroi of twenty knights, my lord.’

  ‘Have you?’ Montgomery smiled. ‘That’s excellent. I’ll add a few more to it later.’ He looked the young knight up and down for a moment. ‘You are very young to command a conroi, how come?’

  ‘I was appointed as captain of Domfront after I saved the constable’s life during the war in Brittany. That was when the duke knighted me.’

  ‘Then you must be the young knight who led the conroi at the tourney at Domfront last year which so soundly defeated the Belleme conroi.’ Guy Melville turned to Roger. ‘Something which upset young Robert de Belleme considerably.’

  ‘I can imagine, knowing how careful my son is of the Belleme honour.’ Lord Roger smiled thinly. ‘There is too much of his mother in that boy.’

  He turned back to Hugo. ‘Be here tomorrow at ten for the briefing.’

  Over the next few months Hugo was kept busy training his conroi, riding out to the various ports where ships were being constructed to assess progress and reporting back and helping to organise the rapidly growing encampment. The duke’s grand council had started badly with most of the nobles refusing to back the invasion but slowly over the four days it lasted a number of influential lords had been won over by a mixture of threats, bribes and promises and then the numbers changing from opposition to support had swelled until practically all had pledged to build ships and provide men. The Normans didn’t have much expertise in boat building and so shipwrights from all over the continent were recruited. As word spread knights and soldiers from outside Normandy began to arrive. Some came from France, Germany, Italy but the biggest contingents came from Brittany and Flanders; together they made up nearly a third of the army. Eventually Normans formed barely half of the total.

  By the middle of August a fleet of seven hundred transport ships had assembled at the mouth of the River Dives and an army of some eight thousand waited to board. Two thousand of these were knights and mounted sergeants with a tho
usand squires and over three thousand horses.

  Roger de Montgomery was getting worried. Supplies for such a vast host were running low but the wind continued to blow from the north so the fleet was trapped. Hugo was sent further and further afield to purchase grain, cattle and sheep and he was starting to wonder whether they would be able to set out before the winter storms started. The in mid-September the wind changed to the west. The lumbering transports with their single masts and square sails could only run before the wind so England was still out of the question but Duke William decided to move the fleet to Saint Valery at the mouth of the River Somme, from where it was a shorter crossing to England and where fresh supplies would be more plentiful.

  Two weeks later, on the twenty seventh of September, the wind changed to the south and the fleet sailed on the tide at dusk. Hugo and Roland stood on the deck of the lumbering transport watching the sunset whilst it wallowed in the swell as it cleared the river mouth. The ship contained the knights and squires of the conroi plus all their horses wedged in tight stalls below deck so that they didn’t injure themselves. It had been a real struggle loading them, especially the feisty destriers and it had taken much of the day. Once they were all aboard the stink below decks was overpowering and so everyone had opted to sleep on deck, much to the annoyance of the sailors who complained vociferously that the useless soldiers were endangering the handling of the ship. Many was the knight who suffered the indignity of being shoved out of the way and many was the sailor who came close to being killed before Hugo managed to move his men to where they were less of an hindrance to the crew.