to chain mail armour and helmets, particularly those captured the day before and now being used against their former owners. Alan told the men soon after dawn that they could remove their armour. The day was hot and with the coming of light they would have sufficient warning of the approach of an enemy to have time to don their equipment and deploy.
Most of the thegns were giving their under-trained and ill-prepared fyrd members long overdue weapons training, both in individual skills and, particularly in the case of the spearmen, how to fight as a group. Alan, Hugh and Baldwin each gave several lessons on basic techniques to those who had received a sword or battle-axe for the first time after yesterday morning’s battle.
The day dragged on slowly. Most of the men sat in the shade and either dozed or pretended to do so. Others constantly fiddled with their equipment. The priest was kept busy hearing confessions in the small church and held Mass at mid-day on the village green. The archers set up make-shift targets and spent most of the afternoon in practice for small wagers. Small groups of warriors played dice or knucklebones. Anne kept local wenches circulating with food and water but, remembering Alan’s comments of the day before, no alcohol.
In the late afternoon Wulfgar walked up to where Alan was lying in the shade on his back with a broad- brimmed hat over his face. “Come and have a look at this,” he said abruptly, before walking off towards the river- carefully avoiding the traps that had been dug. Alan followed and as they neared the river Wulfgar pointed to a long thick pall of smoke that was rising about three miles away to the west, on the other side of the river. “That was the village of Dayneland,” he commented sourly.
“And we are next in the morning,” replied Alan. “It’s a late moon tonight. Have the men stand to in their full armour, in their proper positions when the moon rises. Post guards. The rest of the men can sleep, if they can, in their armour. You’ve shown Lady Anne this portend?” Wulfgar nodded. “It’ll be a big day tomorrow,” commented Alan as they walked back to the village.
Wulfgar grunted his agreement and uttered the traditional prayer of those who lived in the shadow of the longship, “God protect us all from the fury of the Norsemen.”
On the way back to the village Alan checked one of the traps that had been dug. Given the low-lying nature of the ground he wasn’t surprised to find it nearly full of water. He wasn’t concerned, as a six foot wide six foot deep trench full of water would be just as hard to get past as an empty trench with sharpened staves at the bottom, if not more so.
Alan had slept, or at least tried to sleep, in full armour before and was not surprised to find that night that this had not become any easier in recent years. Still, it was better than having the enemy sneak up on you while your armour was still in the wagons- or in the case for the Norwegians at Stamford Bridge several miles away on the boats. Like most of the others Alan had snatched only a few moments rest by the time the sergeants came around rousing the men as the moon rose a little after two in the morning, Bread, cheese, cold meat and water were handed around. The men buckled on their equipment and placed shield, sword or spear ready to hand.
For once Alan was glad about the early sunrise time. First light was a little after three in the morning and the sun rose into a clear sky a few minutes before four. Alan and his small band of ‘technicians’ checked the onagers and wiped moisture off the torsion ropes. Fresh dry kindling was placed under the large copper cauldron. The camouflage bushes and branches were put in place.
“Do you expect it to be over as quick as two days ago?” asked a small voice by Alan’s shoulder.
“You really can’t do what you are told, can you?” he replied with mock severity “I told Wulfgar to tie you to the table in your Hall.”
“I have a very engaging personality,” replied Anne with a smile “And I threatened to cut his balls off if he didn’t let me out. As you will see I have six warriors to look after me.”
Alan sighed. “Six against 600 or more. Still, you’ll be as safe here as anywhere, with the men I’ve positioned to protect the onagers. To answer your original question, no, it won’t be as quick as two days ago. That was a simple ambush against an unsuspecting opponent. But if the fight isn’t over within two hours, we’ll lose.”
“But why? We have a good defensive position, thanks to your efforts. Wulfgar tells me we have nearly 500 men, with you bringing the full strength of Tendring Hundred. Why can’t we beat them?”
“I didn’t say that we can’t beat them, but I’m afraid Wulfgar has been saying what he thinks you want to hear. There’ll probably be maybe 800 Danes- every one a trained warrior. Yes, we have 500 men, including 25 armoured horsemen and 40, slightly less than that now, archers. The thegns and a few huscarles and perhaps another 100 men have some knowledge and skill with sword, battle-axe or spear, but who won’t be as competent and well-trained as the Danes. The rest are farmers who were given a spear yesterday and have had two or three hours training. Man for man it will be absolute murder, with us on the losing side. We need surprise, tactics, the traps we have dug- and my little friends here,” patting the side of one of the onagers. “Maybe we have a chance, if they work as well as I expect”.
“You’ve never used them before?”
“No. Nor, as far as I am aware has anybody else for hundreds of years. Hopefully what’s in the books will work as well as I expect.”
“Err… I’m sorry, but that doesn’t fill me with confidence. These are my people,” said Anne.
“And mine, although not my village. One of the things I believe is to learn from the past. I know what to do today because I have studied the Romans, particularly Vegetius. The Danes will come in simple and dumb, doing what they’ve done for the past 200 years. They’ll all be infantry and will charge straight up the centre, the same as we barbarians did in Vegetius’ time. I’ll give them a lesson in ancient history and we’ll win. Or if it doesn’t work, we’ll all die. Or those that don’t die will wish they had. Take your pick.”
“I’ll join the ladies praying at the church. Perhaps intervention from Almighty God will assist us.”
“I’ll not turn down any assistance, particularly of a divine nature. I just don’t intend to rely on it. The Romans said ‘All things being equal, the Gods are on the side of the larger army’. I hope my engines here make things unequal!”
About an hour after dawn word came from the observers posted slightly upriver that a fleet of boats was proceeding downstream on the last of the outgoing tide. Further information was relayed as the boats came closer. A dozen longships and four trading cogs, at least one of which an observer recognised as being home-ported at Colchester, and he thought the other cogs were also.
Reports were brought regularly by runners and then the small fleet came into view around a small promontory. Several longboats gathered in a cluster for about ten minutes, no doubt as instructions were passed. Then eight longboats turned and started to row towards the shore. The four others and the trading cogs then continued on slowly southwards.
“Where do you think they are going?” asked Anne.
“Probably Brightlingsea,” replied Alan with some distraction. “Edsel, the King’s Reeve, knows raiders are about. Edward of St Osyth warned him on his way here. Edsel refused to send any men here, claiming as King’s Reeve I have no jurisdiction over him. He can look after himself for the time being! We may be able to provide help later, although I doubt it.”
Alan looked carefully at his preparations. The signs of the water-filled traps were visible only to those who knew where and what to look for. The warriors in the forests to the north and south of the clearing were carefully hidden, well back amongst the trees and bushes and either lying or crouched down. Alan could see where the bushes on the southern forest had been cleared to allow the horsemen relatively free passage when the time came for them to emerge, but of the horses and men themselves there was no sign.
The village appeared deserted, with the 150 or so men tasked with its defence carefully hidden behind or inside the houses and barns on the western edge of the village. The only incongruities were the apparently abandoned nature of the village and several wagons tipped on their sides at the edge of the village just to the south of centre, at the point where the traps would channel the Danish attack. The range-marking sticks that Alan had inserted at measured distances could be clearly seen but showed no apparent purpose or danger.
All the livestock, all the children and most of the women were hiding deep in the forest about a mile east of the village, although a few of the braver women had insisted on staying to support their men and to provide succour to the wounded. The small church and several barns to the east of the village had been prepared to receive the inevitable casualties.
“Light the cauldron,” Alan instructed his men. Moments later flames were flickering about its base and one of the men began to carefully stir the mixture that began to turn to a thick viscous liquid.
