Outlaw (Aelfraed) (31 page)

“Fall back!”

We had done all that we could and I watched as my men slipped away silently into the night.  Then I saw that Ridley had not retreated and was fighting three men, his axe whirling around his head. To my horror I saw two men stealthily approaching him from the rear.  I dared not risk a warning shout and, instead, I ran towards them.  My sword stabbed one in the back while my dagger ripped the throat out of the second, the warm blood covering my hand and splashing my face. “Ridley! Retreat!” I slashed at the man on his right who fell backwards his face a mask of terror.  Ridley’s axe split open the head of the warrior he was facing and the third just screamed and ran.

I grabbed Ridley’s arm and pulled him away.
  He turned angrily and then saw it was me.  His expression changed to an apologetic, wan smile and we fled. When we reached the horses Osbert was watching for us nervously.  “We thought you had fallen.”

I shook my head.
  “Ridley here decided to take on half the Norman army.  Luckily they were not as brave as they thought and they ran.”

Osbert and the men burst out laughing.
  “And I can see why my lord.  Your face is a mask of blood; you look as though you have come from a pit in hell.”

I went to the river and, as a shaft of moonlight lit it up I saw that I did indeed look as though I ha
d been slaughtering animals. I shrugged, “It all adds to the legend and I think we will have achieved our aim. They will not sleep easy here again.”

We rode north again.
  The new Norman castle was too close to our old camp and we would be at risk if we stayed there.  Osbert suggested our eastern camp. “I think not.  We need to be as close to the river as we can be.  We are too few to defend against large numbers.  We will return to Persebrig.  The deserted Roman ruins will give us shelter and an escape route.”

“Escape to where Aelfraed?”

Ridley had been more his old self since his bloodfest. “North to Scotland.”

I saw the glance exchanged between the brothers and Ridley.
  “What is in Scotland my lord?”

I could almost see their thoughts and hear their conversations when I was not present.
  They worried about Gytha and how I would react to her infidelity.  To them Scotland was as much a danger as England. “Firstly Edgar is there and he and I have some issues to settle.  Secondly we have money there.  Branton brought me the promissory note from Reuben, remember and finally, it is the one place we can take ship should the Normans get too close.”

Branton looked uncomfortable.
  “Leave England? Why?”

I waved my arm at the handful of men who rode in a ragged line behind me. “Because this is all that is left to fight the Normans and,” I pointed to the shells of houses we were passing, “because this is not England any more.
  England is the people and they have been slaughtered by the Normans who bring a new style of war to our land.”

When we reached the river we collapsed to the ground.
  A lack of food and sleep meant that we were living on our last reserves of energy. I took Ridley to one side.  “Come old friend; let us do as we did as young men and hunt.  The men need food and we owe them that much, at least.”

He gave me a funny look and shook his head.
  “If we are talking debts…oh never mind.  Aye let us hunt.”

We took off our byrnies and took two of the horses we ha
d left behind. Osbert opened an eye as we passed him.  “We are going hunting Osbert. I do not think the Normans will reach us today and we need food.” He started to rise, “No stay.  We will need your energy later.”

We crossed the old Roman Bridge and headed away from the road and what passed for civilisation now. Ridley was the better shot and he took his bow.
  I trusted in Boar Splitter.  I had killed deer with it before; it all depended upon how close you could get to the beasts before they smelled you.  I found myself oddly excited.  This was the first time, in a long time, I had not been hunting my fellow man.  Perhaps, too, it was because I was with Ridley again and we were young boys again in the woods above Medelai. This was not the thick woodland of the land further south.  This was shallow grassy valleys with tree lined bottoms and we made good time as we headed for a spot we knew where the deer gathered to graze during the day. We rode west for a while as the wind was blowing east to west and then we cut south. Once we lost sight of the road Ridley strung his bow and notched an arrow.  We would have to leave the horses soon and we needed to be ready. When you do something, like hunting, regularly with a close friend, then you do not need words.  Ridley just dismounted and tied his horse to a tree in the small copse sheltered on the northern side of the dale. I hefted my spear.  I was travelling light and we descended to the stream we could hear bubbling away before us.

We were silent as we scanned the ground for tracks.
  The earth was muddy in places but the deer tracks would stand out, even in the grass. Ridley froze, like a good hunting dog and pointed.  I saw that the deer had begun walking east; they too were trying to stay upwind of any predators. We both stepped into the water, for the sound of the stream would mask any noises we might make and the deer would stand out more. Ridley stopped again as we saw the small herd ahead of us.  There was an old stag, with five does and three young.  With luck we would take two and have food for a week. I readied Boar Splitter but the range was too great for a throw; I would have to hope they fled close by me and then I might take one. The arrow flew true and took the doe in the neck.  It lurched away east along with the rest of the herd.  The old stag though, did the opposite.  He charged Ridley.  As Ridley reached around quickly to notch another arrow he slipped in the water and I saw that he would not make it to safety in time.  “Down!” Holding the spear before me I ran as fast as I could to reach the beast before it struck Ridley.  Its head was down and its antlers pointed at the helpless Ridley who had drawn his dagger prepared to fight to the last for life. Its preoccupation with Ridley cost the old stag his life and I pushed the sharp head of Boar Splitter deep into the beast’s chest just as it prepared to strike Ridley. The blow turned his head and Ridley ripped his knife across the neck of the dying animal. With a soft sigh and a rushing fountain of blood it collapsed into the stream.

I helped up Ridley.
  The only thing he had injured was his pride.  He nodded at the spear, ”Deer Killer now eh?”

“No it is still Boar Splitter I think.”

Laughing we hefted the stag onto Ridley’s shoulders and then walked along the valley to find the doe. I managed to manhandle it on to my back and we struggled back to the horses.  With our kills over the horse’s necks we rode east again.  We would feed the men.

It was the horses who warned us of the danger.
  They whinnied. That meant strange horses or men. We were still south of the river in the woods above the bridge and we could see the smoke rising from Osbert’s camp fire. We threw the carcasses to the ground and prepared our weapons.  If all was well we could return for the deer but if not we would need to fight. Ridley drew his sword and I took the lead.  The trail masked us from observation but also prevented us from having a clear view of the ruins. Suddenly we heard a shout and a scream; throwing caution to the wind we kicked our horses on and tumbled down the slope. There were ten Norman horse led by a knight and they were galloping across the bridge.  I could see Aedgar lying slumped over the bridge and there looked to be much blood about him. The only advantage the two of us had was that they did not know we were behind them.  The momentum of the slope helped us to gain on them.  I could see my men fighting desperately against the knight who had just raised his sword to strike down the sentry. Branton and Edward must have had time to reach their bows for the knight fell with two shafts sticking from his chest.  The other horsemen slowed and I thrust Boar Splitter into the unprotected back of one of the rearmost men.  Ridley’s sword took his head from his shoulders and the two men in front of them made the mistake of turning.  They saw the blood covered iron weapons which ended their lives.  Osbert had managed to organise some sort of defence and the other six soon fell.

It was heartbreaking to see the remnants of my once proud company.
  The knight and his men had killed many before we had seen them off. “Ridley, stand guard on the bridge. Osbert check the wounded.”

I dismounted and went to the bodies of the Normans.
  The knight still lived although I could see the life oozing from him in deep red rivulets. I took his helmet from his head and pushed by the coif; he was a young man, barely eighteen at most. He tried to grin and opened his mouth to speak.  To my amazement he spoke English, not well, but he spoke it. “I so nearly had you Lord Aelfraed.  I nearly killed the hero Stamford. God watches over…” and then he died.  He had been a brave warrior.  I was now a trophy to be hunted.  My name and my reputation had been the cause of the deaths of many of my men.

Osbert stood over me and I looked up.
  “How many of our men fell?”

“It would be easier to count the living.
  There are seven of us who are left.”

I stood and looked.
  Tadgh, Edward, Branton and Aidan were all that remained of my warriors.  We buried the last of the hooded men in a patch of wooded ground in the lee of the ruins.  The ceremony was largely silent as we said goodbye to those who had fought with us for the last few years.  The Normans were brave men too but we just laid their bodies in lines.  When their comrades came for them they would bury them.

Once we had recovered the deer it was dark and we cooked all the meat up.
  We were not hungry but human nature dictated that we forced ourselves to eat. No-one spoke until Osbert said, “North then my lord?”

“North?
  Aye.  I think William wants the outlaws.”

“I think, Aelfraed, he just wants to kill.
  Do you think he will just stop at this river? No.  He will keep coming until the whole of old Northumbria is his.  Malcolm had better watch his borders.”

Ridley was right.
  These Normans were not like the old Northumbrians.  They used horses and could move swiftly in small armoured conroi. They were swift enough and well armed enough to control large areas, especially sallying from their castles. We had copied them, using the captured horses and that was why we had lasted so long but our numbers had become too few for us to be effective and they were both right; we would have to head north to the land of the Scot.

We left the next day.
  With the Norman’s horses we could travel swiftly but I decided not to take the Roman Road for we knew not where William would send his men. “We will ride to Dunelm first and deliver the horses to the refugees and then we will take the coastal route.”

Osbert looked sceptical. “That will take longer, my lord.”

“True but we need to evade the Norman hunters.” I remembered the look in the young knight’s face; every Norman north of Jorvik who was not massacring the poor of the land would be hunting us. The road was empty as we twisted through the wooded valleys north of the Tees.  Every farmstead and village we saw was burnt out and flocks of crows and ravens feasted on the corpses. We proceeded cautiously for the last time we had ridden north there had been no sign of destruction on this scale. This time there was no column of smoke to warn us of the presence of the Normans.  As we reached the ridge which overlooked the valley we could see the ant like figures that were the Normans, busily building yet another castle.  Down towards the river we could see flocks of crows and birds; we had seen enough to know that the refugees we had saved had been slaughtered.  Dunelm was now Norman and the priests and the people lay dead. I felt as low then as at any time. What had been the point of saving them?  Better we had let them run, some might have survived.

Osbert peered towards the mound as though trying to count the warriors while Ridley put his hand on my shoulder. “It looks like we will be taking the coastal route then.”

Now that we knew they were north of the Tees it became even more dangerous for us.  Edward and Tadgh rode as scouts ahead and behind us.  Each night’s camp meant we had to use sentries.  We had surprised others; it would be ironical to be caught napping ourselves.  All of this meant that we were tired and exhausted.

When we reached the Tyne we saw that this was the limit of Norman expansion.
  There were still villages which were happily working, oblivious to their impending doom. Osbert pointed east.  “There is no bridge for fifteen miles or so.  We have to rejoin the Roman Road and use the Roman Bridge to the west.”

I nodded.
  Once we crossed the bridge we would be safe for we would be close enough to Malcolm’s land then to know that William would not risk a confrontation. We trudged wearily northwards.  The weariness was induced, I think, by the fact that we finally knew we had been defeated.   We saw the stone work in the distance- even after a thousand years the Roman’s hand could still be seen across the land. The buttressed pillars looked solid enough and we looked forwards to a camp which would be safer than those we had recently endured. Perhaps we were tired, I don’t know, but the ambush which hit us could have been planned by us. The first we knew was when Edward flew backwards from his horse. Even from thirty paces we could see the white feathered bolts sticking from his chest. I swung my shield around just in time to hear the bolt ping off the boss.”Charge them!”