TLV - 03 - The Sign of the Raven (29 page)

The English gave way. The Norse took up the verses, striking as they croaked them forth.

"Swords we were a-swinging!

Storm of darts struck shields

and angry dead fell earthward

as
we in Northumber's morning

had no need to urge

the mustered men on,

where the swords were whining

while they sundered helmets—

men did more than kissing

maidens in the high seat

The Yorkshire banner fell, and the whole line shook and bent. Harold Godwinsson drew back from the fray and sounded his horn, almost on a note of terror.

"Swords we were a-swinging!

Swart bit brands in shield rims

when the spears were splitting;

swords were raised to Valkyrs.

England's isle remembers

ages through, how kings went

boldly into battle,

blazing blades before them.
..."

The Housecarles heard the trumpet, and those in the rear ranks withdrew. "Bowmen!" cried their king. "Give them the arrows or we're dead!"

"Swords were a-swinging!

One and fifty slaughters

have I seen where hosts

were hailed by word of arrow.

Among all men I never found

a one more valiant.

(Young of years and early

yare was I for battle.)

Us now Aesir summon home,

and I go death ward.

"I wish now no waiting

War maids sent by Odhinn

from the halls of heaven

homeward to him bid me.

Ale I'll drink with Aesir

eagerly in the high seat.

Now my life has left me.

Laughing gang I death ward!"

The arrows sleeted down.

Harald did not feel the shaft that smote him. He aw it in his breast and touched it, not understanding it first. Darkness rushed across him and he went to lis knees.

He fell and lay on hi
s side while the battle ramped p
ast. A sharp sweet smell of hay was in his nostrils, t brought him back a little. He saw that his head vas on Thjodholfs knees, while more men stood iround.

"My lord, oh, my lord.
..."
groaned the skald.

Amidst the blood that sprang through him and
f
rom him, Harald found answer: "I have held up 'our head long enough; now do you hold up mine."

Thunder and night rolled over him.

When their king died, the Norse were driven back,
the
English followed them, striking and striking, as he arrows gnawed them away. Almost had their line
b
roken, then Tosti came at a run and took the king's Danner even as Fridhrek sank beneath an ax. The
r
aven unfurled anew, the Norse rallied, and the English were beaten off.

There was a pause while both sides re-formed their
r
anks. Not many
of the Norse remained on their f
eet; the English curved around them and pointed spears inward. Th
jodholf stood near Harald's body
tears furrowing the dust and blood on his face, am made a lay:

"Hard has it gone with the host now,

hopelessly are we standing;

for little gain has our lord

led us into the Westlands.

Lying there with his life gone,

he of all lords most valiant,

few has he left to follow.

Fallen our king and our hope now."

A growling went up from the men. Wounded lurching in t
heir tracks, garments ragged and
weapons blunted, they would not yield. .

Harold Godwinsson trod forth. "Tosti!" he cried "Will you take peace of us?"

"It was never my wont to betray my friends,' croaked the earl.

"You and all with you."

"No!"
The voices lifted together. The Norse fell they could not g
ive in while their king lay dead
before them.

The battle began anew.

Eystein Gorcock was seated under a willow by the Ouse, making a verse for Maria, when the three messengers came into camp on spent and staggering horses. The sheriff jumped to his feet. "What is it?' he cried. "What word do you bear?"

"The English have set on us at Stamford Bridge, They have an overwhelming army," answered the nearest of the riders. "Your help is sorely needed."

Eystein sped into the house and got
his horn. He came out of Riccall’
s gate blowing it till echoes hooted.

When Skuli, Ketill, and the Thorbergssons heard the news, they wanted to go, but Eystein told them to stay behind with a small guard for the ships; they were young yet, and untried. Olaf was pulling on his undercoat, a sword at his feet. "Do you stay too," said the sheriff.

"Christ's blood!" shrieked the boy. "My father is in danger of his life!"

"And you may be the last hope of his house," answered Eystein. He would not be gainsaid. Olaf watched him go till tears blurred his sight.

The last third of the Riccall men followed Eystein. They were in armor, and the heat flamed around them. He drove them ruthlessly, no few fainted by the wayside, but the sun was almost down when he reached the bridge.

There he saw the last remnant of Harald's men, still at war. He rushed ahead with a yell, his folk pouring after him, and cut a way to the raven flag. Styrkaar bore it.

"Where is the king?" shouted Eystein.

"Fallen," whispered the marshal. "Earl Tosti fell a short while back, Thjodholf, Gudhrodh, your old friend Gunnar—not many are left. Hell take you, couldn't you have come faster?"

Eystein snatched the standard. "Maria's father," he said in his grief. He lifted his voice like the flag: "God and St. Olaf! Forward, Norsemen!"

That charge, the last of the day, again drove the
English back. Almost, they broke and fled. Harald Hardrede and his men had felled a good two-thirds of the Housecarles, the shire levies were worn out, and it was a ghastly thing to see the Raven overhead.

Their king rallied them and led the counterattack. "Once more!" he cried, "you ward your own hearthfires!"

So fiercely had Eystein brought his men here that they were nigh dead from weariness. Some burst their hearts in his charge ere ever weapon touched them. The rest met the English, and were scattered. Harold Godwinsson yelled and followed them at the front of his warriors.

Then battle madness came on the Norse, the
y cast off their too-heavy byrni
es, threw their shields at their feet, and struck two-handed. Spears and arrows reaped them, and as the sun went down they broke. Such as still lived, fled; only a shield-burgh around Eystein remained, where Landwaster flew above the bloodied helmets.

Then
did Harold Godwinsson attack. Eystein fought for a long time, even when all the others had been slain. As twilight stole forth, he dropped on a heap of the dead with a spear through him. Harold Godwinsson cast down the raven flag, and it covered the last of the Norsemen.

Epilogue Of Olaf the Quiet

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Styrkaar was among the few who escaped. He hammered a road for himself through the enemy lines and ran across the darkling battlefield. There he found a tethered horse, and leaped into the saddle and galloped westward.

The breeze began to strengthen, chill and mournful out of the north, and as the first stars appeared Styrkaar grew aware that he was cold. Blood and sweat were thick on him, and he had only a tattered shirt. On his head was a helmet and in his hand a naked sword he had picked up after throwing away his ruined ax.

The teeth clapped in his jaws. He felt too tired and frozen even to curse. After he had ridden for some miles, he saw a bulky shadow on the road ahead. As he neared, he found that it was a hay wagon. The yeoman driving it had on a thick furry coat.

Styrkaar drew rein. "Will you sell me that coat, fellow?" he asked.

The Englander squinted uneasily into the murk. "Not to you," he said as last. "You must be a Northman; I can hear that in your speech."

"Well," said Styrkaar, "if that be so, what would you do with me?"

"I'd kill you," spat the yeoman, "but as ill luck would have it, I've no weapon."

Styrkaar laughed. "If you can't kill me, friend," he said, "it might be I could do away with you." And before the stranger could say aught else, he lay in the road and Styrkaar was donning his coat.

The marshal rode on. As he neared the River Ouse, mists streamed and he heard an owl hoot. Fires glared at Riccall. Olaf came running when he entered the gates.

"What is it?" cried the prince. "What happened?"

"Dead," answered Styrkaar harshly. "Scarce a man of us left. Best we get away while we can." He almost fell from the saddle.

Olaf stood a moment, his face in shadow. Men heard him draw a shaky breath, and saw his fists clench.

"Heed
the marshal, my lord!" said Paul Thor
finnsson. "All of us are done unless we flee." "No." Olaf shook his head, very slowly. "But . . ."

"No!" The youth shouted it this time. "There must be many who broke away. I'll not leave them behind. Ready what men we have and stand guard till dawn."

He stalked off alone between the empty houses.

By morning a number of Norse had reached the camp, each with the same tale of doom. Olaf waited for those who had gone to Aldby. His fleet was not yet clear to sail when spears flashed to landward and warships from the wharf came rowing up the Ouse. Olaf regarded them in dry-eyed calm. "It's as well," he said to Erlend. "I liked not the thought of leaving our wounded and captured folk."

He yielded to the English chiefs on condition his warriors might keep their weapons, and rode to York among the former to meet King Harold. Styrkaar and the Thorfinnssons went along. At the town they were brought into the earl's hall, a big and splendidly outfitted house. In the high seat was the king. He looked weary, and his hurts were bandaged, but he sat straight. Olaf regarded him with wonder. This man was not much to see, but he had conquered Harald Hardrede.

The youth bent the knee before the king, who said mildly: "Rise and come sit by me. I bear you no ill will."

Olaf joined him, and took a beaker of wine. It tasted ashen in his mouth. "Know you how my father died?" he asked.

"By an arrow, I hear," said Harold. "He must have passed quickly
...
in the vanguard of his battle line, as he himself would have chosen." His face twisted. "God have mercy on us both that we could not have been friends. I would have given much to have him by my side when the Normans come."

"Well . . ." Olaf stirred, awkwardly. "We must ask peace of you, my lord."

"It is granted," said Harold with a smile, "and these are the terms: that you swear peace and friendship with my folk, now and forever hence."

Olaf waited. There was a thrumming within him. "And what else?"

"I shall want hostages, of course. But naught else. No ransom, save for the ships and arms you will not be needing. You may take your men home, also those who are our prisoners."

"I fought on the wrong side," said Olaf thickly. "Never from this day shall Englishmen lack friends in Norway."

He remained for a couple of days, and then sailed. He took only twenty-four ships. Tosti's sons, Skuli and Ketill, followed Olaf and afterward became great men in the North.

On Michaelmas, Duke William landed in England. Harold Godwinsson heard the news and went south with what was left of his Housecarles, to meet the Normans on the heights above Hastings.

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