He jostled forward passing men, and it was then the wedge impacted with the shield wall. He could see the wedge of the men from the north heading directly for the Ealdorman. He looked to see ‘Bright Courage’ who was in the centre of the men, even in the mass of men he was easily viewed as he was tall of leg. He had thrown his first two spears in panic and they had fallen into the mud of the estuary, he just had his fighting spear left and his sword. The searovers were forming a wedge, closing the ground rapidly, more spears were being thrown and screams were filling the air around him, his men slammed their shields together and braced for the impact, spears were thrown in return from behind the shield wall and satisfying screams were heard from the invaders lines as they made impact with flesh.Īncenned was scared. Holding a spear aloft he turned and pointed at the invaders, the heathweru roared their defiance and a primal sound emerged, a sound of defiance – Byrhtnoth added his shout to the roar. He patted his horse as he dismounted and headed for the front and centre of the line joining his hearthweru, slapping their shields and a few backs and smiling as he did so. Byrhtnoth knew every pair of eyes would be on him. He could barely see their eyes behind their helms, many showing scars of past conflict. His hearthweru acknowledged him as his rode past with the banging of their scarred shields with their spears. He knew they were currently out of range. Berserkers in front screaming and men behind, with the sun glinting off thousands of helms and axes, shouts and curses cutting through the air along with spears. They had crossed the estuary like wolves on the hunt. He knew his faith was being tested, he knew they were outnumbered but he had let them cross. Byrhtnoth glanced across at their lines, they were numerous, his scouts had estimated around 4000 men in over 90 ships. These invaders wanted the treasury at Maldon to add to their plunder. It seems to me too poor a thing that you should go with our treasure unfought to your ships, now that you have thus far into our lands.’ ‘Hear you, searover, what this folk say? For the tribute, they will give you spears, poisoned point and an ancient sword. He had given his reply shouted across the estuary
He was still angry at ‘Forkbeard’ asking for tribute. ‘Forkbeard’ had already called him a coward if he would not dare to battle with them. Byrhtnoth knew he had to defeat them in such a way that a message would be sent. To the dismay of some of his men, he had let them cross the estuary rather than just hold the crossing. The invaders had already raided elsewhere.
Vikings, the searovers, the invaders on one side and his men on the other. Leof of his hearthweru realised his hawk and it circled in the air above the lines of men lining up near the estuary. He tried to ensure the young were placed next to veterans. The young of the fyrd were nervous, he could see it in their eyes and he shouted encouragement. The Ealdorman Byrhtnoth, the white-haired one, ignored them and encouraged his men, young and old as he rode along the line. The searovers faced him and roared their insults.
This week, to accompany the release of our Saxon archers, we’ve got a piece of short fiction from the pen of Gary Haines.
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