stories, sympathizing and using the universal panacea of alcohol, in the form of strong mead and cider.
Alan instructed Baldwin to make sure that sufficient men stayed sober to take over guard duty every six hours, and that the fighting men stayed reasonably sober as most would be marching next day. He then went to the barns where the injured English had been placed and the women had done what they could to make them comfortable. Later, numb with exhaustion, he accepted Anne’s offer of hospitality at her Hall. He fell asleep sitting up at the table with a half-finished cup of wine in his hand. He woke to find himself washed, in clean clothes and lying on the bed in the main bedchamber. By himself.
After wearily rubbing his eyes he pulled on his boots and entered the Hall. Most of the thegns were presently sitting at the head table quietly quaffing ale. Several had bandages around arms and heads. Edwold had his arm in a sling.
There was no euphoria at the victory and the mood could best be described as quiet satisfaction. Too many on both sides had died and Alan could sense an undertone of dissatisfaction at the use of the Wildfire, despite its central part in the victory. It was felt too modern and unprofessional. Alric expressed it all for them as Alan sat down and took a pint of ale and a slice of cold meat pie. “So that’s the future of warfare, hey? Perhaps it’s time for me to retire and sit in front of my fire and leave this sort of thing to you more educated men.”
Alan waved his ale mug. “Not the future of warfare, but its past! I reached 500 years into the past to pull out the answer we needed to win today. You’ve heard the stories about what those Danes did over the last four or five days. They won’t do that again. I had thought, after they surrendered, of releasing them on parole not to return to England again and to give them two of the boats, but not after I heard those stories.
“I promised them mercy, so I won’t hang them. They’ll become slaves, but I suggest we sell them in London, Norwich, Nottingham and York. I don’t want Danish ex-warrior slaves with access to sharp farming implements walking around my estates. Divide them into four groups, hobbled together in a coffle. Three or four of each of you provide an escort to guard them, at least a dozen guards per coffle under a responsible man. Alric, Edwold, Edgard, Swein, Godfrith, Aelfweald, Edward, Cuthbert, Toli, Leofwine and Wade. Also Lady Anne’s thegns Aelfhare, Aethelwulf, Esmund and Wulfgar.”
“Aelfhare died fighting on the line today,” said Alric.
Alan crossed himself and spoke a quiet prayer to himself before continuing. “The head-money will be shared between the sixteen of you, including Aelfhare’s family. That would be about 6,000 shillings?” Alan looked across at Osmund and shouted, “Have you finished accounting what is in those ships and the pile of valuables yet?”
Osmund walked over with a piece of parchment and a quill. “It’s hard to be accurate, since I’m not sure of the values of all of the goods, or the jewels and so on. My best guess is about 12,000 shillings. Hugh has got it all under guard. Also he’s had the prisoners busy tidying the battlefield. He’s had all the trenches dredged to recover the bodies and the weapons at the bottom of the water and put those with the other weapons. All of the burnt and dead bodies he’s had dumped in two of the trenches and filled them in as mass graves- the Danes that is,” Osmund quickly corrected himself. “The dead from Wivenhoe will be buried in the churchyard here tomorrow, and each detachment will take its own dead home when they leave.”
Alan borrowed Osmund’s parchment and quill and made some quick calculations. “We’ll give each man five shillings, cash on the nail before they go. Not tonight, otherwise they’ll start gambling. 100 shillings for each man wounded who has lost a hand, foot or limb, and 100 to any widow whose man has either died so far, or who dies of his injuries. Two shillings to each of the Wivenhoe peasants who took part in the fighting.” Alan realised that even such small sums were a princely reward for poor men.
“Osmund, reserve enough to pay the men when they leave tomorrow morning, except my own men who I’ll pay when we get back to Thorrington. The rest, and the captured arms, we’ll distribute in one week from today in Thorrington to the thegns to use as they see fit. Hugh! Load the rest of the valuables and all the arms and armour into two of the longboats. Get the prisoners filling in the rest of the trenches. We don’t want the local children or drunks falling in and drowning. Break down the onagers, load them on the wagons and send them back to Thorrington. Already done? Good. I’ll have a word to you outside in a minute.”
As the thegns hurried out to do his bidding Alan saw that Anne had been sitting at the table, hidden behind the bulk of some of the men. “You always know what you want, don’t you?” she asked quietly.
“Mostly, but I usually don’t get it, not until the last few months at least,” he said giving her a meaningful glance. “Thank you for the bath, clothes and use of the bed. I hope that you also got some sleep?”
“My pleasure, or at least that of my fifty-year old housekeeper, who said she was most impressed with what she saw when bathing you.” A slight blush indicated that perhaps the attention had been slightly more personal than that. “And as for sleep, yes I had several hours on top of the bed next to you, with a maid in attendance of course. So perhaps one could say that we have slept together?”
Alan gave a hearty laugh before settling down with a sigh. “To business! There are four ships off Brightlingsea, holding more captives than we rescued this morning. I intend to take those ships tonight. Will you come with us and supervise the care of the captives once they are released? I don’t anticipate any significant danger. If you have any sailors or fishermen who are used to handling boats I’d appreciate it if you could lend them to me.”
Anne also returned to seriousness and nodded her acquiescence. “When do we leave?” she asked.
“It’s about four in the afternoon, isn’t it? I want to get started as soon as possible, so we come on the ships at about midnight.”
“Then we had best both get busy!” said Anne rising and calling for her steward Wybert.
Alan spotted Owain sitting on a nearby bench, tuning a lyre and walked over to him. “We haven’t had a chance to talk as I’d like. I’ll be taking a short boat trip in a few minutes, would you care to join me? Bring that longbow of yours.”
Owain raised eyebrows his eyebrows. “More action?” he asked in his lilting Welsh accent. “You seem like a man who can’t stop fighting. To be sure, I’d be glad to accompany you. Just I’m not going to do any rowing! I’ll get my bow and meet you at the beach.”
Alan interviewed the sailors from the Danish ships they had captured. They were 63 in number, about half Danes and the rest a mixture of Norwegians, Swedes, Germans, Finns and Icelanders, with a few Scots, two Russians, an Irishman and two Englishmen. Most had been hired for this expedition, although most of the Danes had sailed for the same chiefs before. Some had wives and families in their country of origin, but most were young and unattached. He chose 22 men from the non-Danes he felt he could trust, and offered them ongoing employment on the ships that he now possessed, promising housing and relocation to those with families. Anne had recommended seven local ex-sailors and two fishermen who could steer boats and who could be distributed amongst the ships for the night expedition. Osmund had been instructed to arrange the return of the Thorrington horses and had advised Alan that the men due to march to Clacton, Wyley, Thorp and Kirkly were more than happy to be carried part of the way on horseback.
Alan placed eight sailors and twenty warriors into each of four captured longboats. Sunset was due at a little after eight in the evening. Sunrise next day was due at just after four in the morning, with the moon appearing a little before two in the morning. With a northerly wind and outgoing tide they left at seven in the evening, gliding along silently.
Alan and Owain stood leaning on the stern rail of the ship, looking back towards the wake of the boat. “That’s a very useful bow that you have,” commented Alan. “Is it common amongst your people?”
“The longbow?” queried Owain. “”Yes indeed. That’s why the Saxons haven’t been able to conquer my people despite several hundred years of warfare along the frontier, and why you Normans will have the same lack of result.”
Owain picked up the bow that was leaning against the rail. It was larger than he was at 5’ 4”. The bow was 5’ 9”. He said, “The bow is matched to the bowman, being about as long as he is tall. The bigger the man, the longer the bow and the stronger they both are, but more important is the draw of the bow. The arrows are a cloth- yard long, 39 inches. As you saw today they can punch clean through chain mail. A good bowman will hit a single target most times at 200 paces and have fifteen aimed shots a minute.”
He strung the bow and handed it to Alan, who balanced it in his hand and then tried to draw it. It drew easily enough to the chest, but he wasn’t able to draw it to the ear. “It requires a lot of practice,” commented Owain. “You have to train and strengthen the specific muscles that you need, which are different from hacking around with a sword. Even a poor bowman will hit a single target at 150 paces most of the time and will hit an army all the
