The eight longships carefully approached the landing place, each dropping an anchor behind it in deeper water before they slowly rowed up and carefully beached their ships bows-on to the shore. Men jumped over the bows of the ships and waded through the shallow water to the beach where they began to form up. There were a lot of them. As each ship emptied, the small anchor-crew remaining on board winched the ship back into deeper water by using a vindass winding pole, so each boat floated about thirty yards from the beach, free of risk of attack from men on the land.
The Danes formed up. There were eight groups each of about 75 men. At a command they began to move towards the village, the groups spread out in the middle part of the clearing on a front perhaps 300 paces wide.
Thegn Alric, who was in command of the troops on the English right flank, muttered to Alan, “I hope your plan works as well as the other day- there’s well over 600 of them, perhaps as many as 800.”
“But we have parity of numbers and our people are fighting for their homes and families,” objected Anne.
Alric snorted in apparent bitter amusement. “Equal numbers yes, but in a straight fight they would crush us in less than an hour. Most of them are full-time professional warriors. We have some part-timers with some degree of training and a bunch of farm-boys straight from the plough. Oh, they’ll fight, no doubt about that! But in a straight battle the Danes will go through us like a hot knife through butter. Let’s hope that Alan’s concept of so-called ‘combined arms’ works.”
As the enormity and peril of the situation became clear to her Anne’s brow creased with a frown of anxiety.
“Now, if my lady would kindly shut up, we can concentrate on what we are doing. In this plan, timing is everything,” said Alan rudely. Shooting Alan a look of dislike Anne fell silent.
The was still no movement in the village and some of the Danes could be seen chatting amongst themselves as they strode forward. “They’re paying absolutely no attention to their flanks. They’re wide open,” commented Alan dispassionately. He turned to the men behind him. “They are 200 paces from the village. Load the onagers with rocks and fill the fire-bombs.” Two men started to carefully ladle the heated mixture into the baked balls using a funnel.
“They’re now 150 paces away,” commented Alric. “I’ll join my men, as the fun is about to start!”
Suddenly, at 125 paces, the front rank of Danes abruptly disappeared as the seemingly solid ground game way under them. Those behind tried to stop, but many more were forced over the edge of the pits by the pressure of the men behind them who were unaware of the problem.
Weighed down by their armour, those who had fallen into the pits, except two or three exceptionally tall individuals, drowned in moments. At the same instant the men who had been in hiding in the village suddenly sprinted to their assigned positions along the central front.
The archers who had been hiding behind the overturned wagons stepped clear and began to rain death down on the exposed Danes, many of whom where now milling around in confusion. Alan estimated that at least 80 Danes had perished within a minute or two, with not a blow struck. Only in the centre, free of traps, could the Danes continue to advance, and they did so seemingly oblivious to the collapse of both flanks.
Alan had concentrated the archers and the best of the infantry at that point and as the English hurriedly formed up the Danes opposite let out hoarse battle cries and ran at the English line. They hit with a clash that could clearly be heard over the battlefield and began to hack and slash with sword and battle-axe. The English stood firm, shield to shield, the spears from the fyrdmen and farmers in the second rank stabbing forward at every opportunity. In several places Danes, either individually or in small groups broke through, mainly by the use of massive swings of their double-handed battle-axes smashing through shields and helmets and cleaving deep into the bodies of the Englishmen. In the course of a few minutes the 200 or so Englishmen holding the centre were being hard pressed by the 100 Danes that had so far reached the line.
In the meantime those Danes on each side of the centre were being channelled towards the centre by the traps. Their way forward being blocked by the traps, they followed the natural course of moving towards the open area. Alan waved to Alric, who unleashed the 75 men under his command, mainly spearmen, at the enemy left flank.
With most of the Danes facing towards the centre this unexpected attack on the unprotect flank took them by surprise, many falling to a spear in the back before they turned to face their attackers while continuing to fall back on the centre. At the same time Hugh and Baldwin sallied forth with the horsemen and a force of infantry on the other flank, again catching the Danes unprepared and disorganized. Using their lances, in two brutal charges the few horsemen smashed the right flank of the enemy, leaving 30 or more Danes dead and dying and punching the right flank towards the centre.
The Danes were not giving up and warriors turned to form shield-walls to protect both flanks, while others continued to stream forward to engage the English line. At the moment the Danes were in two groups. About 100 or so men were engaging the English line and a second much larger group was 100 paces back but striving to get themselves into some sort of order to continue the fight.
Alan turned and said to the men at his side. “Loose!” Two large rocks sailed through the air and thumped into the congested ranks of the Danes at the centre of the battlefield, those who had not had a chance to close with the English line. The rocks killed or injured perhaps half a dozen men. Alan estimated there were probably close to 350 of them bunched together and that they would overcome their surprise and shock within minutes and again become an effective fighting force instead of the disorganized rabble they were at this moment. This group was still 100 paces from the English line and level with the water traps. “Load fire-bombs!” instructed Alan.
The English forces attacking the flanks of the Danes had seen the two initial projectiles land and quickly fell back towards the trees from which they had appeared. “Loose!” ordered Alan.
Again two projectiles were launched. This time the result was dramatically different. As the English engineers were already reloading, the salvo rose through the air and then hit the ground close to middle of the group of Danes. Shattering on impact each ball splashed liquid in an oval shape over an area fifteen paces long by ten wide, the thick liquid sticking to whatever it touched. With a white flash so bright that it hurt the eyes even on this sunny morning, the oxidisers in the mixture spontaneously ignited.
Over thirty men were instantly immolated. Others, burning like human torches, ran screaming in agony, some throwing themselves into the water traps to try to put out the fire. But water does not put out Wildfire and the phosphorus continued to burn underwater as the Danes sank to the bottom of the water-filled trenches, dragged down by the weight of their armour. Soon strange white glowing shapes lay at the bottom of the water traps, still burning. Those splashed with just a few drops of the liquid dropped their weapons and screamed as the fire burned through armour, flesh and bone. A horrible sweet stench of burning flesh competed with the acrid fumes of the burning chemicals.
The onagers fired four times more before the remaining Danes, terrified and with their nerve totally broken, routed and ran for the beach, dropping shields and weapons as they ran. The centre of the clearing which moments before had been a mass of Danish raiders was ablaze with sheets of fire and thick clouds of black smoke, “Target right! Aim at the ships, distance say 550 paces, but DO NOT fire,” instructed Alan. “Sweet Jesus and Mary! What have I done? May God forgive me!” he said with a tremor in his voice as he surveyed the utter devastation at the point where the Danes had sought to stand. “You! Watch the cauldron of Wildfire and kill the heating-fire. If we’re not very careful what happened out there will happen here!”
Danes who had engaged the English line were stepping back and lowering their weapons, calling for truce. They numbered about 50 men. Perhaps a further 150 had reached the beach and several of the ships were rowing in to pick them up.
With half a dozen careful shots from the onagers Alan made it clear that the ships were neither to advance to the shore, nor were they permitted to withdraw and flee. Patches of burning naphtha floated on the water, well clear of the ships but eloquently making his point.
The English were disarming those Danes who had surrendered at the line. Alan walked over to Odin, who was tethered to a nearby tree and showing signs of frustration at missing out on yet another battle. Mounting, Alan indicated to Alric to join him and waved to get Hugh and Baldwin’s attention, pointing to himself and then the group of Danes gathered on the beach. He met up with the cavalry 100 paces from where the Danes stood and the squadron slowly trotted towards the enemy. The rest of the English host of infantry also moved forward but kept its distance when waved away by Alan. Alan and the cavalry halted ten paces from the front rank of the Danes.
