Macbeth the King (16 page)

The fleet sailed back down Wigtown Bay, a major arm of the sea despite its name, and round the knobbly hillocks of the Borgue peninsula, some score of miles, into the Dee estuary. This was a much shallower firth, and the tides here, as on much of the Galloway seaboard, were difficult, ebbing and flowing over great distances and drying out to vast sand and mud flats at low water. Fortunately the longships were of shallow draught, and down the centre of all the major bays, which were really estuaries, rivers ran through the mud flats, so that they might still navigate up these. But it could make a slow and twisting progress—and in single file the great Orkney fleet, with its captured additions, was strung out ridiculously. It was only half-tide when they pushed up the Dee estuary. Thorfinn had been in some doubts as to whether to lie off until full tide, when they might go up at speed; but since it was on the ebb, that would hold them up for hours—and what was more important, allow the entire countryside to take warning, since the fleet could by no means be hidden. Posts driven into the mud and projecting above the water showed the course of the river-channel at such half-tide conditions.

So, feeling almost foolish, the leadership headed a mile-long column of vessels, winding and turning the six miles to Kirk Cuthbert's Town, which had superseded ancient Wigtown as the main centre of Galloway. As a result, by the time even one-third of the Viking host had disembarked at the narrows of Dee, most of the townsfolk had fled inland, and the fighting-men had moved over into the security of MacDowall's fortress area.

This was far from being the usual hill-top dun or fort. There was little outcropping rock or heights on this fairly level coastal plain, and the fort was in effect an island in marshland, some way south-west of the township, using an inlet of the estuary to flood the surroundings, with a single underwater causeway across. Within was a fairly extensive area, square, with turf-walls and redoubts at the angles. It was a strong place only because of its position. MacDowall himself had not devised it; probably had not the ability to do so. The tradition was that the Romans had established this post during their short-lived occupation of Galloway.

Thorfinn ordered the town to be fired forthwith, as a suitable declaration of intent, and then went to look at the fort situation.

It was unfortunate for the defenders that the assailants were under leadership which knew Spynie so well—for the defensive system was so very similar. A fairly well-defined path gave away the hidden approach through the marshland to the underwater causeway; and by crouching low at the water's edge it was possible to trace most of the latter's course and zigzags.

Thorfinn wanted immediate action. This Kirk Cuthbert was to be an example for all Galloway—to save much trouble for all concerned. He actually sought his brother's advice as to how to get his men across that marsh and moat without unacceptable casualties.

"I would say smoke," MacBeth told him. "To cover your assault."

"But the wind is blowing the wrong way, man. From the south-west." He pointed behind them to the burning town, where the great smoke-clouds were rolling away from them, in an easterly direction. And at the other side of the fort was the estuary, with nothing to burn.

"Fire-arrows. To burn the thatch on those huts in the fort."

"Ha! But they will know that we will be crossing on that causeway, and could concentrate their defence."

"No. Cozen them. Fetch thatch from the town roofs—such as are not already burning. Straw. Hay. Cut reeds. You have plenty of men. Bring it to throw into the marsh, all round here. For standing on. Parties working all along this side. But not at the causeway-end. As though you did not know of it. Bring timber too, from the houses. Lash it together, to make rafts. To carry out over the straw and thatch to the water's edge. At many points. They will believe you intend to attack on these. Then I will get my bowmen to shoot the fire-arrows. All will be covered with the smoke. You press out, then—along the causeway."

"By the Powers—you can use that head of yours when you must! It is worth trying..."

With more than sufficient men, the various tasks did not take very long to perform. The materials were to hand in plenty, and only had to be transported. Meanwhile the Moray archers were collecting and tying tinder to their arrows. Shouted challenge and abuse at the fort's defenders went on all the time, as a matter of policy. There was about 150 yards of swamp and then a hundred yards of open water to cross. It was impossible to say how many men were massed in the fort—many, but hundreds rather than thousands.

A fire had been lit, and at a signal from Thorfinn, MacBeth gave the order to shoot. The bowmen dipped their tindered arrows in the flame and then took aim for the various hut roofs some 300 yards away. Not all the tinder tufts remained alight for the flight, but none missed such easy targets, and sufficient were still burning to set alight the thatching in mere seconds, for it had been a dry month and summer. Great yellow-brown clouds of smoke came billowing across. Soon all, fort and attackers, were lost in acrid, eye-stinging obscurity, men coughing, choking.

But all was urgent and disciplined activity on this side nevertheless, with companies moving purposefully in on Thorfinn, who led the way out through the marsh to the causeway, swords drawn.

MacBeth waited with his bowmen in case the smoke gave out and more archery could be valuable. Most of the fort area was just within bowshot.

This was not needed. The smoke of the burning huts lasted sufficiently long for Thorfinn and the head of his column to win out over the causeway unobserved, however slowly they had to creep and feel their way. Once over, the surprise seemed to be complete. The sounds of battle suddenly arose and maintained.

It was at this stage that a Viking left in charge at the town sent word that his scouts reported a massing of men in woodland on higher ground a mile or so to the east. Who these were, and their numbers, was not obvious. They might be locals rallied from this area; but on the other hand, it might be MacDowall himself arrived for the defence of his homeland.

MacBeth sent the messenger, with a guide through the smoke, to cross the causeway and inform Thorfinn. Also to tell him that he, MacBeth, was taking a force to investigate.

He took his 400 Moraymen, with young Somerled's 200 Hebrideans as well, and hurried back to Kirk Cuthbert, streaming-eyed and coughing as they went. There they learned the location of the reported Galloway force; and adding another couple of hundred Vikings to their strength, with scouts ahead, set off in that direction.

As the ground rose, inland, the cultivated lands and pastures of the coastal area faded out and scrub woodland took over, amongst low green hills. In such country, of course, it was difficult to see any distance ahead or to discern any concentrations of men. MacBeth went warily, moving forward slowly on a wide front.

They began to catch glimpses of men, in ones and twos, retiring before them. Presently their own scouts brought one of these back, whom they had managed to capture.

With a little persuasion the man, an enemy scout himself, talked. He admitted that it was MacDowall, Lord of Galloway, who was ahead, who had just arrived from the north, overland, and had hastily gathered together a host of about one thousand, with many more sent for, messengers going out into many parts of the province. Pressed, the man did not think that MacDowall was eager to fight, meantime, preferring to wait until more of his people had assembled. He was based, for the time being, on the hill-fort of Culcaigrie, near Culcaigrie Loch, some seven miles to the north-west.

MacBeth sent back this information to Thorfinn, and added that he would keep his present force between Kirk Cuthbert and the enemy, until informed of his brother's intentions.

He spaced out his men along a wide front, just within the scrub forest, with advance patrols well forward. And waited.

In a couple of hours Thorfinn sent a courier to say that the fort had fallen satisfactorily, and that MacBeth should leave a screen of a hundred or two men in his present position to guard against any surprise attack—although that seemed unlikely. He and the bulk of his company might as well return to Kirk Cuthbert.

The fires had all died away, save for pale wisps of blue smoke, though the acrid smell of burning was everywhere, when they got back to the town area; and the Vikings had established a large camp to windward—from which better smells emanated, entire newly-slaughtered Galloway cattle being roasted on spits over cooking-fires, by the dozen.

But welcome as this provision was for hungry men, the effect, for MacBeth at least, was somewhat spoiled. For near Thorfinn's own fire, he had a quite large squad of men very busy, mainly prisoners but under careful supervision. They had a huge pile of heads there, cut off the slain in the fort battle, a messy, bloody and fly-buzzing heap; and they were hard at work washing and cleaning up these, combing out the tangled hair and beards and trimming off neck skin and the like, preparatory to hanging them up individually on posts as a sort of frieze all round the perimeter of the township. There were between three and four hundred of them, Thorfinn calculated, sufficient to make a good and effective showing.

When MacBeth protested that this was an unnecessary barbarity, his elder brother reproved him sternly, suggesting that he used his own head while still he had it. He, Thorfinn, was a great believer in avoiding unnecessary bloodshed, he pointed out; and this procedure would undoubtedly greatly aid in that. There was nothing like severed heads for dissuading folk from taking up arms and opposing due authority. He had found it very efficacious in the past, in making people think twice about getting in the way of Thorfinn Raven Feeder. Galloway would thereby suffer the less. These men had died anyway, at the fort fight, so it cost nothing extra. And they were past caring what happened to their heads. Whilst their widows and families would be much convenienced by being able to identify them properly, cleaned up like this—much more readily than in an untidy heap of slain bodies. While the burial would be simplified likewise—and the remainder of the carcases could be left to feed his renowned ravens.

MacBeth, although far from over-delicate of stomach, and eating as far away from the heads as possible, still found his appreciation of the roasted beef impaired.

Thorfinn was concerned that the hosts of Galloway should not be given time to rally to the support of MacDowall. So the night's rest was cut short, and before dawn the Viking host was on the march. They moved up to the higher ground northwards, to their forward line, to be in a position to advance at first light.

So, in the early morning mists they moved on, in force, through the forest of scattered birch and thorn scrub, as silently as they might—thereby surprising and annihilating one forward company of Galwegians. But these were able to sound the alarm, and thereafter the defending forces retired northwestwards before them, keeping just out of contact. That is, until they came to the now narrowed River Dee, in the Tongland area, where it was sufficiently shallow to ford. This crossing MacDowall was prepared to contest. In the riverside meadow-land the two hosts could now see each other plainly. It was clear that, so far, MacDowall had only about half the invaders' numbers. Despite this, it was equally apparent that any opposed crossing of the Dee would be costly. Thorfinn had local prisoners brought before him, and after threatening them with unpleasant death, extracted the information that there was another ford, at a monks' cashel, about a mile upstream, at Clochan. So, while seeming to press ahead with preparations for a major crossing here, in the face of the enemy, he secretly detached a small force of about 300 to make their way unseen up the river, to take and hold this ford.

When word was brought back that the second crossing area had been found undefended, the Viking army was gradually withdrawn from the Tongland ford and sent north. This process could not long be kept from the enemy across the hundred-yard-wide river—and then it became a race for the second ford. But, since Thorfinn did not remove all his men from the lower site, MacDowall was forced to leave roughly half his force still on guard there. In the event, the Vikings got sufficient men across the upper ford to form a strong bridgehead on the west bank, against which the Galloway men dared not commit themselves. So MacDowall had to give orders for retiral again, losing both fords—and moreover having his army split in two.

Now it was more or less headlong flight and pursuit, north by west, into low hills. There was still another river to cross, the Tarff, but in this dry summer it was not a major obstacle and no attempt was made to defend it.

Two or three miles of this and the running battle still in two sections, they came out into a sort of amphitheatre of the hillocks, in typical Galloway cattle country. The knobbly green heights around did not reach much more than 400 feet, here cradling a marshy plain over a mile across, in the centre of which was an oval, reedy loch. And near the top end of this, on the west side, was an isolated mound, steep but flat-topped, crowned by the hill-fort of Culcaigrie, MacDowall's redoubt area.

It so happened that, owing to the configuration of the land, the two retirals and pursuits reached the loch area almost a mile apart, one to the south-west of the loch-foot, the other halfway up its east side. Thorfinn, leading the northern chase, swiftly saw his opportunity. He sent a third of his force racing north-about, to cut off flight in that direction, thereby pinning this half of the Galloway host against the loch itself. It is probable that MacDowall himself would not have allowed this to happen to him, being an experienced campaigner—but he was with the southern half. The leader involved—who had been detached merely to try to hold the upper Dee ford—did not know what to do, and turned at bay. Most of his men fought well enough, but they were beaten before they started, outnumbered and out-manoeuvred and with the terrible person of the Raven Feeder against them. Many fell, including the leader, but more melted away into the marshland and even took their chances in the waters of the loch itself.