Edward made sure that he told all of our company of the esteem in which Branton was held. The men at arms and the archers had a healthy competitive streak and loved to mock each other. Branton’s rank amongst the Danes put a sour look on his brother’s face. I took the two brothers and Ridley to one side as Edward regaled the others with tales of the Danes. Branton even allowed him to show the golden bracelet which impressed all. Branton himself cared not for such rich trinkets but he loved the sentiment which came with it.
“We are to attack the eastern gate in two night’s time.”
Osbert wrinkled his nose, “With fifty men?”
Branton smiled, “Lord Aelfraed told the Danish king that his men were worth two of any other warriors.”
“Huh, even with a hundred we would struggle.”
“I will happily charge!”
“Yes Lord Ridley, but the bolts would bounce off that thick hide of yours!” I could see that Osbert was trying humour to enliven Ridley to his old self; it was not working for Ridley just ignored the attempt at banter.
“Perhaps if you listened to my plan?” They nodded as they saw that they had dismissed out of hand what they had not heard. “The Danes will assault the Mickelgate while others scale the walls. The Danes will use a ram; we will not. Nor will we strike at the gate but at the walls to the side.” Even Ridley looked interested and intrigued. “Mickelgate is situated at a bridge over the river which concentrates the enemy’s men we, on the other hand, will go to Petergate to the west. This is but newly built and is not yet stone finished. The upper parts are made of wood. Branton and his archers can shoot fire arrows at the wooden parts. They will catch fire.”
“But, my lord, they will douse them with water and put them out.”
“True Branton, but if they are dousing them out, in firelight, they become targets for ordinary arrows and this will be night time. We will be shooting from the shadows, over the ditch. At the same time the rest of us will close with the walls and, using our shields we will send up the lightest warriors to scale the walls.”
“How high are the walls?”
“Good question Osbert. If memory serves they are almost the height of two men. We may need to use three shields supporting two men and two shields held aloft.”
Osbert looked dubious. “Which means that we could only gain the battlements with eight or nine men. They would have to be good warriors.”
“Well as at least three of them will be us, I should hope so.”He looked a little more pleased with that. Ridley just nodded. “The key to this is that they will send many men to the main gate. The Danes attack will be obvious. Branton’s attack on the gate will be annoying for them rather than dangerous but it will draw many guards to the gate where they think we will be attacking and, even if we fail, it should ensure that the attack on the Monkgate will have a greater chance of success.” I looked at each in turn. “Can anyone see a problem which I may have missed?” I allowed them time to think. I remember when I was a Housecarl, and had been asked my views, the questioner never gave me time to think. Eventually they all shook their heads. “The target for the men at arms will be the gatehouse. Branton and the archers can keep them busy so that we can slip down the stairs and open the gates.”
“What if we are seen from the walls whilst we climb?”
“Then we will have failed so pray that it is a cloudless night.”
We spent the next two days preparing. We would all need to be fully armed and armoured. The odds, at the Petergate, were stacked against us. The other problem I had foreseen was that William would be on his way north. Harold had made it in a few days; the disaster would be if he arrived whilst we were assaulting but we could do little about that and I realised, somewhat dispassionately, that it would be the Danes who would be the first to know and to suffer.
Edgar had obviously acquired some horses for one his English warriors rode to us with a message. “My lord asks is all prepared for tonight?”
“I am, what is the signal to be?” I could see, from the blank look that he did not have a clue. Edgar and Sweyn had not thought of that. “Ask him to do two things, one to send you when he is about to begin his attack and secondly to shoot a fire arrow high into the sky when the ram rolls.”
Relieved he grinned, “Yes my lord.”
I hoped that, as the gates were less than a mile apart, we would have a chance of seeing the arrow but the human signal would be just as effective. I was now relying on a Viking to make the correct decision about the time of the attack. I hoped that Sweyn was a good enough general to choose the best moment.
We watched the sun set to the west of us and when it was dark, before the moon rose, we slipped forwards keeping to the sides of the old road leaving two men to whistle when Edgar’s man arrived. Branton and his archers went to the right and we went to the left. Edward carried a covered pot containing coals; its lid hid the fire. We walked through the sparse bushes, constantly watching the walls for signs of movement. Osbert held up his hand and we froze. We could see a sentry walking from the Petergate to the small turret fifty paces from the tower. We watched as he completed a full circuit and saw that he was the only guard. We ran forwards in spurts when his back was to us and then became stationary. Lying flat on the ground, our cloaks hid us from view. I kept one eye on Branton for they needed to be in position before us.
When we were twenty paces from the ditch Harald of Thirsk crawled along the ground like a serpent and peered into the ditch. As soon as it was safe he returned to me. “A few wood spikes on the bottom but you can put your feet between them,” he whispered, “They haven’t cleared the grass and weeds from the sides so we can pull ourselves up if we need to.” I nodded and he slid into his allotted position. As soon as the guard moved I signalled and we moved forwards quickly to the ditch. Harald and I went down first and safely negotiated the obstacles. I waved the others down and they joined us on the other side of the ditch. I hoped that the shadows in the ditch would disguise our presence but we had to wait until the guard moved. We could now no longer see him without presenting a white face and we had to wait for Branton’s signal. He waved his arm and we pulled ourselves up next to the wall. The only way we could be seen now was if he looked directly over and I hoped that soon he would be too busy for that. We took off our cloaks, which had served their purpose and we split ourselves into the groups of six. I hoped that two men would be able to thrust one over the top but I had planned six so that we could ascend higher. Then we waited. It seemed an age and I wondered if Sweyn had missed his opportunity; we need to strike in the middle of the night when the garrison was deep asleep and they were not expecting it. Suddenly there was a whistle. I peered back into the darkness and saw a movement. Branton could still see the key and I relied on him now. He had been given discretion when to loose. It was with some relief that I saw the glow as they took the lid off the pot.
I turned to the warriors alongside me, “Ready. Prepare shields. Pass it on.” We were the closest to the gate and I would be the first up. Harald and Wills held their shield aloft. I hoped it would be high enough. Then there was a whoosh and a flash in the night sky as the fifteen arrows struck their target. I could hear the alarm from above me and also one in the distance. Now was not the time for caution and, placing one foot on Harald’s knee and pulling on the shield, I began to ascend. I use Wills’ knee and then I was on the shield. The battlement was level with my shoulder and I whispered, “Up!” It was a strange sensation rising up like that. I grasped the crenulations and pulled myself up. Soon others would follow but I needed to clear the walkway of any sentries. I drew my sword and gripped my shield. I could see that a kite shield would be better in a narrow space but I had to manage. There was no-one in sight but I could hear the flames and the hiss as the sentries threw water on to the inferno which was raging. I could hear the shouts and then the screams as Branton’s arrows thudded home. Glancing over my shoulder I saw Osbert and Ridley and I walked along the walkway. The old Roman stone steps descended to the ground level and I kept the sword at my side to gain as much surprise as possible. The stairs ended in a small guard room but the guards, I could see where peering through the slits in the door at Branton and his archers. There were eight of them. I turned and held up five fingers and then three; Osbert nodded and repeated the sign. I risked a glance into the city but it was mercifully empty, no one was rushing to the Petergate.
It was now or never and I stepped out and crossed to the far side of the gate and the man who was furthest away. My sword went through him before he even knew I was there. The man next to him turned in surprise and, as I with drew my sword I head butted him and, as he fell backwards, rammed my sword into his throat. The other six lay dead, for eight of us had managed to ascend the walls and we had had complete surprise. “Ridley, take some men up to the gatehouse and kill the guards there. Osbert let us get this door open.” Even as we lifted the bar I heard the shouts from the city as a column of men appeared fifty paces away. It was too late to recall Ridley and, besides, we needed all of the guards dead. It seemed to take forever to lift it, even for two of us and then it was free and we dropped it. Osbert managed to open one door to let the others know we had succeeded. I turned just as the Norman warriors were within ten paces.
The leader was a knight with a kite shield and a mace, the ones with him all had spears and they outranged us for we had no axes. I rushed at the knight with my sword pointed at him and held above my shield. A round shield protects much of the body and his mace smashed harmlessly against the solid wood and iron structure. I did not try to hit him I slid my sword into the gap between his shield and his shoulder. He was wearing a gorget but it only deflected the blade and it slid along his neck, the blood showing that he was wounded. Before I could finish him off, the spear man next to him had thrust his spear at my arm and I was only saved by the metal plates. I sliced backhand at him and, as he had no gorget, took his head off in one sweep of my arm. The Norman knight staggered backwards clutching his neck and supported by two of his men.
I risked a glance to my left and saw Ridley, Osbert and the rest of my men despatching the last of the column. As Branton and his men trooped in we took stock. Two of our men lay dead but the rest of us still stood. It seemed remarkably quiet although we could hear the noise from the Mickelgate. “Branton cover our flanks. Osbert detail four men to guard the gates. The rest of you, wedge!”
We had a choice, I could wither take the men to aid the Danes over the Monkgate or help Sweyn at the Mickelgate. I was the decoy and I could do as I wished. The thought of brave warriors dying at the bridge decided me. There were twenty of us in the wedge and we filled the narrow streets with the six men at the rear. The rest of the men followed on behind. I felt elated as we trotted through the stone streets built a thousand years earlier by warriors who fought as we did. The Normans could not use their horses here! We did meet men as we ran through the five hundred paces of streets but they were all individuals who died with shocked expressions as the mailed warriors with the red horse shield appeared like wraiths from the grave. One warrior saw us and ran back to the gate which was close. I almost laughed as I heard him scream, “The ghost of Harold comes! Flee!”
The renegade Englishmen helped us more than had he fought with us for the defenders of the gate were already terrified before my wedge appeared suddenly from the side street. Relying on Branton to protest my flanks I roared, “Charge!” and ran straight at the centre of the gate. The Normans and Saxons there had never faced a charging wedge and they stood no chance as the combined weight and weapons of twenty one warriors hit them and hit them hard. Even if we had not been striking them with our swords they could not have stood. The rest of my men formed a defensive circle behind us as Osbert and I opened the first gate. The second one showed that it had been damaged and when we opened it the Danes outside gave a huge roar and rushed in. Osbert and I stood aside to let them get their revenge on the defenders who had killed many of their comrades. I could see the bodies around the huge ram and others, wounded, lying next to the Mickelgate Bridge.
Sweyn strode up to me and clapped me on the back. “Once again I am indebted to you, Aelfraed Godwinson. You truly are a mighty warrior and your father, in Valhalla, will be proud of you.”
We let the press of Danes rush into the fray. My men had done their part and I wished to have no more losses. Once the majority had entered I formed my men up. “Branton take your archers to the walls, kill any guards and then harry the rest.”
“Ridley!”
“He has gone my lord. He followed Sweyn. He as not yet satiated his appetite for blood.” Osbert looked sad and I could understand why. Ridley had turned from being a good warrior with a kind heart to a revenge filled killing machine. I pitied any Norman he met.
“The rest of you, form up behind Osbert and me. Our task is to protect the people.” I headed for the Jewish quarter. I owed Rueben that much at least. Groups of Danes were busy fighting handfuls of Normans and renegades. They did not need our help and I pressed on. The bodies thinned out and I began to hope that the fighting had passed Reuben by but when I turned the corner I saw a crowd of Jorvik inhabitants with torches and home made weapons. They were beating on Reuben’s door.
“Come out you old Jew!”
“There’s no one to look after you now. The Normans have gone!”
“Christ killer!”
I was suddenly angry. I had saved these people and they were turning on a harmless old man. I roared forward and smashed my shield into the three men I could reach. “Put your weapons down!”
One loutish looking man shouted, “Why? Who the fuck are you?”
His head came off in one blow. “I am Aelfraed Godwinson. I am the leader of the hooded men and I am the one who has helped free you from the Normans!” There was rage in my voice, in my face and in my actions. They shrank back, weapons and torches falling to the floor. “You could not fight the Normans yourselves, you let brave men die to do that and now you try to kill an old man who has only ever helped you. You all deserve to die!” I took one step forwards and they ran screaming. The street was empty.
“Well I don’t think they will be cheering you any time soon, my lord!”
“If they are the sort of people who we are dying for then we might as well leave for Byzantium now.”
Osbert shook his head sadly, “But they are not. They are the people of the towns, the ones who look out for themselves only. We fight for those who lie at Coxold and Topcliffe.”
Osbert truly understood me and I clapped my arm around him, “You are right and I urge you to remind me of that should I ever become enraged again.”
“I am going to be a busy boy then eh?”
Reuben appeared and he was shaking, “Thank you my lord! I thought my end had come.”
“You are safe now, they will not return.”
“No, my lord. I have seen their true feelings. I will leave for London on the morrow but I am in your debt.” I knew then that Reuben meant more than he said; for a Jew a debt was something honourable, my action had given me a sanctuary for life.
Leaving four men to guard Reuben while he prepared to leave we headed through the city to help Sweyn and Edgar with the scouring of the city. As we ran through I realised that I had not see the Aetheling and wondered if he had been at the Monkgate. Dawn broke over the eastern walls and the trail of the Normans could be measure by their dead. As I passed the bodies, I noticed that there were few knights or Norman men at arms. The ones who had died had been like Tadgh, left guarding the horses and being guarded, in turn, by one of my men.
“Osbert, we will go to the Gillygate.”
He looked at me shrewdly, “You know something my lord?”
“We have seen few Normans yet and the only gate they could have used is the one we did not attack, the Gillygate.” As soon as we neared the Gillygate we could see that there were no bodies and the gates were wide open. They had decided top abandon the city once we had entered. William of Perci was careful with his Norman lives. “Leave the men here to watch the gate and to get some food from the gate tower. Edward you are in charge. Branton and Osbert come with me.”
We trudged west towards the Monkgate. “I wonder where Lord Ridley is, my lord.”
“My thoughts too, Branton. I prefer him to my right not off on his own on some sort of berserk death quest.” Ridley had never loved a woman and the love he had had he had given to his land and his people. What the Normans had done was akin to the treatment of Ealdgyth. Osbert had said they had watched me, had I been as reckless? I suppose that going into the nest of Normans and killing their leaders was reckless but at the time I had not thought so. Perhaps Ridley felt the same.
The scene close to the Monkgate was one of carnage. We could see bodies, both Dane and Norman littering the streets. Here they had fought hard. I spied Sweyn and Edgar standing with a group of warriors. We headed over. When we closed I could see that his face had none of the elation I expected but was grave. He walked towards me. “Your friend, Ridley. He is wounded.” A chill ran through me. It was what I had feared. “He is a brave man. He came alone and fought with four Norman knights. Three of lie slain but he was given a fearful wound by the last one.” He paused, “It was Perci.”
I saw Ridley. He had been badly wounded. His face bore the scar of a sword along the cheek. It looked bad but it was the most minor of his wounds. Osbert knelt to bind the wound on his thigh where a sword thrust had gone through. Fortunately, the relatively small amount of blood told me that it was not mortal but I could see red seeping though his byrnie and there were damaged links. “Branton, let us take off his byrnie.”
His eyes were closed but a half smile played upon his lips, “Be careful you don’t damage it, old friend.”
“As if I would.” We continued to strip his body and I saw him wince at each movement. “And when you are well again I will be having words about the oath brother who leaves the shield wall in battle.”
The old Ridley suddenly looked not pained but upset, “I am sorry my lord. The blood was in my head.”
I took his helmet off and he opened his eyes, “I know my friend. I have been there and I should have had one of my men to protect you. Next time, eh?”
He coughed and blood oozed from his lips. “Will there be a next time?”
“There had better be. Who else will watch my right otherwise?”
When the mail shirt came off I could see that the sword had gone through his side. I touched, as gently as possible, the wound and Ridley bore it well, gritting his teeth. The ribs were broken but I could not tell what damage had been done inside. The important thing was to staunch the bleeding. “Branton, send a man for fire and then you go to Reuben, tell him what has happened and ask does he know of any medicines.” I looked around the ground as Branton ran off and ripped the bottom half of the dead Norman’s tunic. I pushed it hard against the wound, “Sorry this will hurt.” I was speaking to no-one for he had, mercifully passed out. “Osbert, bring the men from the Gillygate.” I looked up at Sweyn, “The Normans have fled King Sweyn and the city is yours.”
“And we owe much to you and your gallant band for it was your attack that prompted our victory. You were the stone which began the rock fall and I am, once again, indebted to you.”
“As am I, brother. The men who reached us told us of the valour of you and your men. I watched Lord Ridley and I have never seen such a fearless warrior.”
“Aye brother and it is a lesson to be learned for this is the result of recklessness. Had he waited for us we would still have killed the Normans but he would not be close to death.”
“If he is to die, it is a noble death that men will speak of for generations to come. And I think that he learned this from you, Lord Aelfraed.”
I shook my head, “I would rather the Normans lived and Ridley was whole for this is not over yet and we will need brave warriors like Ridley. William will come, Edgar, and we will have to face him. We have bloodied his nose and we have yet to rip out his heart.”
The venom in my voice made Edgar start back, “You are a fierce enemy.”
“Aye remember that Edgar.”I had not meant the threat but the actions of Edwin and Morcar had shown me that men’s lust for power sometimes overrode their intentions. Branton arrived back first, “He gave me this balm, sir. He said that it will clean out the wound.”
The pot he opened contained a small amount of a fragrant smelling paste. I removed the pad and blood still oozed. Ignoring the blood I opened the wound and I smeared the lotion deep into the wound and prayed that Reuben had saved Ridley’s life. “And he gave me this powder. You mix a small amount with water and give it to him twice a day. It will ease the pain and make him sleep. He has given enough for four days.” I nodded and he went to the nearest house. He had to kick in the door but he quickly returned and mixed the powder with the water. I held up Ridley’s head and forced open his mouth. Branton looked at me and I nodded. He poured it into the open mouth. It remained there. Branton pinched his nose and with an involuntary cough he consumed the medicine. Osbert arrived with the men at the same time as the warrior with the pot of fire.
“Osbert, make a litter. Edward, make the fire red hot.” I took out my dagger and gave it to him, “I want this blade white hot.”
Sweyn and Edgar had left us in the street which resembled a butcher’s yard. The only ones who remained were my men. Counting the ones left at the gate there were forty of us now. We had done well but men had still died. “Here you are, my lord.”
Edward held out the knife which smoked. “Hold his arms.” I removed the pad and placed the flat of the blade on to the wound. There was a hissing and the smell of burning hairs and flesh but when I removed it there was no bleeding. “Put it back in the fire.” I took the pad from his thigh and smeared more of the paste on that wound. When Edward handed me the blade I repeated the cauterisation. He no longer bled but his life was now in the hands of the almighty. I put the last tiny portion of paste on the wounds on his face.
“Osbert, Branton, we need a roof and a kitchen. Find one.”
Later, as we ate and drank, Branton told us of his meeting with Reuben. “He said the paste is an old remedy from his homeland but the powder comes from the Turks and was given to him by Aethelward. He was insistent that we only use it for a few days. He said no more.”
I nodded, “If Ridley shows no sign of recovery in a few days then we will not need it any way.”
We rested in Jorvik for a few days. The fighting had been brief but hard and we all needed time to recover. Tadgh had proved a godsend for he knew Jorvik even better than we. His guard had admitted not watching him all the day and that proved, even to Osbert, that if he had wanted to run he could have done so and he was accepted. Some of Edgar’s men also asked to join my company. I was too busy watching Ridley and delegated that to my sergeant. When he returned his face was a little dark. “Well,” I asked, “are they men of my company now?”
“Aye sire, ten of them and good men too.” He looked troubled.
“Come on man spit it out. Don’t dance around with me we have known each other too long.”
“The reason they wanted to join us is that they see no honour in serving Edgar. He kept his men back from the walls and only entered once we had won. They have spent the last two years avoiding fighting and they felt ashamed that Lord Ridley had been so badly wounded while they did nothing.”
I was not surprised and it confirmed my view of the boy. Our father had not spent time with him; he had been his mother’s boy and we all knew what that meant. It was a shame. I realised, at that moment, that he would never be king. Deep in my heart that was the instant that I knew the Normans had won. I spent the next year denying it to others but you cannot lie to yourself.
Sweyn and his army left Jorvik suddenly. We knew not why or where he went. There was an assumption that he had returned to Denmark. The Aetheling enjoyed the power of running Jorvik which in itself, sickened us. We were doubly grateful when Ridley awoke. We had fed him liquids whilst he slept and dressed his wounds but, on the fourth day after the battle, he opened his eyes.
“Am I dead?”
We were so please that he spoke but we could not control our laughter. “Very nearly old friend, very nearly but it must have been wyrd that decided you would live.”
He nodded and tried to sit up. We helped him to an upright position. “I am starving and my head is ringing.”
“Well we will feed you and then, as soon as you are able we will leave.”
“Leave? Did we not capture the city?”
“We did but none of us like the stench!”
We spent another three days preparing to leave and what disturbed me the most was that Edgar never once came to see how Ridley was doing or to ask us our plans. It was almost as though we had done our part to capture the city for him and he no longer needed us. Sweyn had also deigned to bid us farewell. I resented both men for I felt used and that the lives of my men had been wasted. They had died for nothing. Ridley had almost died for a spoiled little boy’s Christmas present.
As left through the Petergate, still with its blackened burned gatehouse, I had no idea where we would be going. I just knew that I did not want to be in Jorvik and I wanted to be as far away as possible from my half brother. Osbert rode next to Ridley. He had watched him whilst I had slept and he had even more paternal feelings towards him than me. Branton rode next to me, his golden bracelet still on his arm.
“Well my lord, do you have any idea where we are going?” I shot him a dark look and he shrugged. “As we did not get a boat I assume it is not Byzantium and as we did not take the Gillygate then Scotland is not our destination.”
I laughed. “You have the mind of a chess player, Branton. You analyse everything.”
“True, it comes of being an archer. You and my brother just hit your enemies as hard as you can. Archers have to calculate wind, movement, even the weather and we have to estimate distances. “
I had not thought about it but it was a fact that his job was far harder than ours. “I am heading, since you ask, for Medelai. William will be heading north. When he fights Sweyn he will be at his weakest no matter if he wins or loses. That will be our chance to strike.”
He looked back at the line of riders behind us. “With these fifty?”
“I was not boasting when I told Sweyn that you were all worth two of any other warrior. When William has fought we will whittle his forces down and gather more volunteers. Who knows Hereward may prevail at Ely and increase our numbers. Malcolm may come from Scotland.”
Branton shook his head, “The Scots are like the crows and ravens. They do not hunt like the kite or the eagle but they pick over the carcasses of those killed by true predators. He will only come when he thinks we are too weak to defend against him.”
And, once again, Branton was proved right.