Saxon Fall

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Authors: Griff Hosker

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Saxon Fall: Rise of the Warlord
Book 8 in the
Wolf Warrior Series
By
Griff Hosker

Cover by Design for Writers

Published by Sword Books Ltd 2014

Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

 

The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
 

All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

 

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

Chapter 1

Caer Gybi 626

I had been named Hogan Lann, son of the Bane of the Saxons, Lord Lann of Rheged. The moment my father was buried beneath the snowy tops of Wyddfa I became Warlord: The Warlord. Until the day my earthly life ended I would be Warlord. I would lead the armies of the lands of Rheged and Gwynedd and fight to defeat the Saxons. I had been entrusted with halting the seemingly endless waves of Saxons who looted and pillaged their way across the old Roman province of Britannia.  We had stopped them up to now. With the aid of King Cadwallon, king of Gwynedd, we had drawn a line across the land. The invaders were halted. We had had to compromise and ally ourselves with some Saxons to do so and that did not sit well. The Mercians fought alongside us. Myrddyn, my father’s closest friend and adviser, had persuaded me that we had to be pragmatic. He was a wise old man and he could see into the future.

One cold and bone freezing day, just a month after Yule I was with my warriors at the fort close to the port of Caer Gybi. It was on Ynys Mon. We were at the very edge of Britannia and we could see Hibernia, the old land of Rheged and Wyddfa from the top of the mountain. Myrddyn had asked that we come here to speak with my father’s brother, Aelle. He was the only uncle I had left and my father had been very close to him.

As I watched my household equites gathering in the great hall in the heart of the fortress, I reflected that we were much diminished since we had last defeated the Saxons.  Back then we had fielded more than two hundred equites and squires. That was before the plague which devastated our fort beneath Wyddfa. I had lost all. My wife, my children and my stepmother were all taken by the illness which seemed to come from nowhere. Even old Oswald the priest had fallen foul of the insidious disease. The followers of the White Christ took great delight in telling us that it had been because we were pagans that God has visited the plague upon us. As Myrddyn, the wizard, said, “It took pagan and Christian alike; their God must not be able to tell the difference!”

We knew what it was, it was
wyrd
. I had abandoned the fort and invited King Cadwallon and his wife, my sister, to live there.  It was a safer home than the one he used on the borders of Mercia. I could not live there for the memories were too painful. The men of Mercia were his friends now but we all knew the treachery of the Saxons. They could turn like a rabid dog at any moment.

The warriors who remained had all lost family. The exception was my brother, Gawan, whose son, daughter, and wife had been many miles from the disease.  That too was
wyrd
. He was the dreamer and he was the one who went with Myrddyn to dream in the dream cave and to speak with the spirits of our ancestors. I did not resent the idea of his speaking with our father while I could not.  He was the dreamer and I was the warrior; it was meant to be.

I knew why Myrddyn had summoned this meeting at the fort of Cam. He had dreamed in Wyddfa’s heart and seen the future again. It was never a clear picture but it would tell us if it were to be good or ill. I was pleased to be here with my men away from the memories of my empty home beneath the brooding peaks of Wyddfa.  Lann Aelle was also looking forward to being reunited with his father.  One armed Aelle was the last of the three brothers and I had a lot of time for my uncle. As each visitor arrived he was welcomed by my equites. We were the guardians of Rheged still and we fought for all those who had been summoned. Myrddyn had been insistent about the guest list for this rare conclave. Every visitor would help us to defeat the Saxons. It was Gawan who spoke with Myrddyn and not me.  I had inherited our father’s skills as a warrior.  Gawan was the wizard and the thinker but we made a good team.

Myrddyn finally made his appearance. We did not have our oval table here and we were forced to use one long table and three shorter ones to accommodate everyone. His appearance caused silence to descend on the hall.  The slaves were dismissed and two guards stood at the doorway to prevent us being overheard. The ten nobles from the island and my uncle were seated on one table while my warriors occupied the others.

“It is four years since Lord Lann, the Warlord, was taken from us.  His sacrifice has bought us time to prepare for the Northumbrians. Last week I dreamed and I dreamed alone. Lord Lann came to me in the tomb where he lies. He told me of the danger from the north.  Already Edwin gathers his forces on the island of Manau. It is a matter of time before they will come here. Lord Lann’s spirit told me that we must make a hard decision.” His sharp eyes scanned the room.  “The evil that killed so many has made us fewer but stronger.  We cannot expect the new Warlord to defend this island and defeat King Edwin. The Warlord will need to take the war to Northumbria. Mona must look to itself from now on. The Warlord and his equites must travel the length of this land to fight the Northumbrians wherever they present themselves.” He stared at the nobles from the island. “The farmers must become warriors too!”

He sat down.  This was a speech most unlike Myrddyn. It was blunt and without the flowery language of the dream world.  I would have to ask him later why but now was not the time.  We had to present a common front. I had expected his words.  They were no surprise to me but I could see that the nobles from Mona were most upset. The exception was my uncle. He looked calmly at me with a smile upon his face as the others railed and ranted against Myrddyn.

“You cannot abandon us! The only thing which stops the Northumbrians is the Warlord. It is his duty to protect us!”

“Lord Lann would not have abandoned us!”

“We grow the grain for our people. If you take away our defences then we will all starve.”

“Who will protect us without the Warlord?”

Aelle stood. Such was his authority that all went silent. He glowered and glared at his fellow islanders. “It is many years since we travelled here to be protected by the Warlord’s father, my brother, Lord Lann. Whenever we were threatened he came to our aid.  He defeated all the predators that would have torn our world in two. Even when he was betrayed by my nephew, who came from this island, he never once thought of refusing to aid us.” He allowed those words to sink in; especially the treachery of Morcar.

I could see that some of the nobles thought that Aelle was agreeing with them and they began to smile and applaud each statement.

Aelle shook his head, “We are not children. We are not helpless. I may only have one arm but I can still defend my home and my family. You should all be ashamed of your words.  We should have defended ourselves before now! Myrddyn should not need to explain why we have to do this.  We have a responsibility to protect ourselves.” He turned and jabbed an accusing finger at the portly man seated next to him, “You, Garth, son of Griffith, look at you.  You are half my age and twice my size.  You could not even find a horse to carry you, let alone climb upon it and ride.  You cannot fight because you choose not to. You have grown comfortable on the blood and sacrifice of others. And you,” he spread his arm around the room, “have all grown rich with many slaves and that is because of the sacrifice of others.  The disease on the mainland did not touch us but look at these equites.  These are all that remain of those who laid down their lives for you all.”

Garth ap Griffith looked suitably embarrassed and he spread his arms, apologetically, “You are right, Aelle son of Hogan but how can we fight?  I have not picked up a weapon these last ten years.”

“We make every boy and man practise with arms one day a week. We organise them into tens, as the Romans did.  We make our homes like forts.” He banged his good hand onto the table. “This fort can laugh away a siege.  I will move here and I will defend this and the port. I say we each become responsible for one area of the island and look after that. What say you?”

His words had shamed them for they were all half of my uncle’s age. They began to bang the table in time and chanted, “Aelle, Aelle, Aelle!” over and over.

I looked over at Myrddyn and saw a smug smile on his face. “You knew this would happen.” I said quietly.

“Of course I did,” he snorted.  “What kind of wizard would I be if I could not see into the future? Besides they just needed a push. I have known Aelle since I first followed your father.  There is steel in him. He has a mind as sharp as any.  He will defend this island and when he dies he will join your father in the spirit world.”

I had thought that we would have many hours of talk but it was not meant to be.  It was
wyrd
. One of the sentries at the door burst in. “I am sorry for the intrusion, Warlord but there are Saxon ships on the southern side of the island.  They are landing at Porthdafarch!” Our watch towers might have saved us again.  They ringed the island of Ynys Mon.

There was little point in lamenting the fact that we had been surprised.  We were warriors and we would deal with it. “Equites! To horse.  Uncle, you and Myrddyn command here. We will attack them on the beach.” I had no idea how many there might be but I knew that the only chance would be to strike them quickly and horses were the best for that.

I was already in my mail.  I donned my full helmet and took Saxon Slayer.  It still inspired fear amongst the Saxons. My shield bore the image of a dragon and I slung it over my shoulder. Finally I picked up my spear which was taller than the tallest warrior. By the time I reached the stables my equites were there.  We had just sixty now but all were the finest warriors in the whole of Britannia. I mounted my horse, Star. In times past, our horses had been as armoured as we were; now they just had mail about their heads.

Captain Tuanthal was the last of the warriors who had served with my father.  He was a greybeard now but he was wise in the ways of war. “What say you, Tuanthal? What is our best defence?”

“Hit them before they have unloaded their boats.  Do not give them time to organise.”

“Wolf Brethren! Ride!”

We galloped across the open courtyard towards the south eastern gate.  Already men were hauling it open.  The advantage we had was that the beach they had chosen was not large.  Had they chosen the next beach down, some two miles away at Trearrdur, then they could have spread out their forces. They had chosen badly,
wyrd.
The problem we would have was the steep slope leading down to the beach. Speed was of the essence and we covered the half a mile to the edge of the slope quickly.  I could see just two Saxon ships drawn up on the beach but another six were approaching. I saw that just thirty men had disembarked from the two vessels.  None of them wore armour save for their helmet.

Once we reached the sand and shingle our horses were able to power forward. I did not bother to unsling my shield.  I leaned forward with my spear.  As I saw the first Saxon brace himself for my blow I pulled back the shield. I timed my blow so that I punched the spear into the warrior at the perfect moment.  It had taken years of practice to perfect the blow. He tried to brace the shield and protect himself.  The force of the blow and the speed of my mount meant that the edge of the shield angled towards him and the spear ripped into his throat.  I was already twisting it away as the white sand stained red with his blood.

Three warriors tried to make a small shield wall to protect each other. This time I raised the spear and, urging my horse to climb I soared over them. As I cleared them I stabbed down and the spear plunged into the shoulder of one.  Pol and Bors were behind me and I heard two screams as the other two were slain.

I reined in Star to let him catch his breath and so that I could examine the beach. Two more ships were edging in to the sand, ready to disgorge their crews.  The Saxons had not rowed in mail and until they put it on then we would have the advantage.

“Do not let them land!”

Some of my equites were armed with bows and half a dozen arrows flew into the air and struck warriors as they tried to climb down from the ships to the sea. I saw a knot of five warriors and they were trying to assemble a shield wall.

“Pol, Bors, Kay, follow me!”

The four of us thundered towards the knot of men which was growing larger as others struggled through the water to reach them. There were now eight of them with locked shields.  When we were just ten paces from them we hurled our spears.  Three of them were too slow raising their shields and they were transfixed by the heavy spears. The wall was broken.  I drew my sword and sliced down, as we broke through the flimsy line. My sword hacked deeply into the unprotected back of one of the warriors. The surf turned red with their foaming blood. I sensed a warrior to my left and, as I tugged on the reins, slipped my foot from my stirrup and kicked him hard in the face. As he fell, Star kicked out with his hooves and I heard a crunch as his skull was cracked open.

I slowed down again and regained my stirrup.  I took the opportunity of moving my shield around to protect me. There were eight equites with me now.  “One more charge should do it!” I shouted. Turning around I rode back to pull my spear from the body of the dead Saxon. As I did so I saw, on the headland, Myrddyn and some men manhandling a bolt thrower into position.  I saw the flicker of a torch and knew what he intended.

“Into them!”

I saw that Tuanthal was leading his equites into the men trying to disembark from the ship on the far side. There were just three ships on the beach now and the others were waiting for these three to off load so that they could land their warriors. As Myrddyn hurled his fire at the middle boat we charged the one nearest to us. The first warrior I tried to spear had more about him than the others had and he braced his shield so that my spear merely stuck into it. I released the spear and I grabbed the mace which hung from my saddle.  I swung it with all of my might. The weight of my spear sticking in the shield caused it to lower slightly and the mace cracked into the warrior’s helmet.  I drove the nasal into his nose and part of the helmet into his head. He collapsed to the sand. I whipped Star’s head around and swung the mace at the back of the next warrior’s skull.  It had the same effect.

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