Final Chapter: War - Part Two
The nights sky shone bright as the moon watched on. The men beaten and bloodied had been forced to pull back from the impenetrable walls. Their mighty ladder fell as the cheering defenders cast it away like a felled oak. The enemy lord had won with pernicious trickery. Parading his defenders like peasant farmers along his walls King Penda had been duped into throwing his best against staunch Franks instead. Their losses were at least a third of their number.
Returning to camp an assembly was called immediately to re-strategize. Though their was little concern of a counter attacker from the defenders themselves all knew East Anglia would invade the moment they got new that Mercia was preoccupied in the west. Taking their seats inside the Royal Tent, Jorvik, Bjarkis and Idibil listened closely as the King and his generals discussed a means to amend their miscalculation. The loss of their ladder meant all entire efforts had been squandered. Penda wanted an assault that would leave a permanent breach made in case the Franks beat them back again. Whilst a remake of the catapult was desirable, without Adornos engineering skill to ensure its proper construction they settled on an old favorite means of forced entry. They were to build a battering ram and fall heavily upon the city gates. With the entrance beaten open they would gain an access point to repeatedly assault the defenders. As the enemies numbers dwindled theirs would be reinforced. If they they could not win by shield and sword perhaps they could win by attrition. So it was the orders were given to construct a ram without delay. By noon the following day they would be back to harass the defenders once again.
Jorvik laid on his fur bed as he looked down at his toes thinking of the long journey they had made. Time had passed as if only a few weeks yet since his arrival nearly six months gone by. He recalled his first difficult moments and how he thought he a quick trip to Ailreach would solve his misfortune. Should he have known he was to end up milking cows as slave, sleeping in caves with Wildmen and fighting off fisherman for being duped into stealing a fishing he would have probably tried swimming back home there and then. But depiste the journeys woes he had found himself somewhat enjoying the unexpected adventure. And now his final journey home was so close. All he needed was for this siege to succeed and he would be free to return. Thinking of this and his beloved homelands he fell asleep.
He woke to loud bustling sounds outside his tent. Men were yelling as they pushed the weight of the heavy ram over the soft earth. Through the night the army regained its strength and whilst engineers franticly built the ram. Now joining Bjarkis and Idibil, Jorvik stood in the morning sun watching as soldier pushed the promising machine onwards with stalwart efforts. The weather was warm and sunny, seemingly out of place for the coming battle. The fight was to be at Caer Wents main gates where the stone gate house bore the huge oak doors that blocked their way inside. The Franks made no attempt to hide their identity now and stood menacingly upon the walls with iron axes and long spears, dazzaling in the sun.
As the battering ram slowly rolled through the long grass the defenders began to fire their many arrows. The Franks were not concerned with reserving any ammunition, only with preventing the rams approach. Many brave warriors were willing to take up the challenge of driving the ram forward, and with each lost to an arrow another took his place to push the ram onwards. There was great hope it would succeed for it was built with great skill and bumped along unstoppable with a great tree trunk swining at its center. With the presence of their King and the cheers from fellow warriors its drivers courage held firm until the ram stood poised at the gates. Swinging its weight, the crafted log came crashing into the doors sending huge splinters into the air. Other men ran up eager to offer shelter with shields for those that operated it, smashing the trunk against the threshold again and again. Each strike sounded like a mountain cracking apart, the defenders desperately hurling stones with many more insults. The onlookers watched, gripped by anticipation.
Jorvik observed from outside his tent. He saw the Franks running too and fro on top the walls. His eyes caught sight of a small number who carried a large clay pot. What they were doing was only revealed when they above the ram and poured a thick black substance down onto it and the beneath. Those caught beneath slipped and stumbled as they ran from the noxious soup, unhurt until a flaming torch was thrown amongst them. The siege weapon and all who were unlucky enough to be caught by it were engulfed in a red hot flame. It burst alight fiercely, rising high above the walls before falling back into itself where it cooked its victims. Not knowing what he had just witnessed Jorvik turned to Bjarkis who walk away muttering. “Greek fire.”
The battering ram blazed yellow burning into ruin, receiving the same fate as Adornos catapult. With its destruction they had lost the battle again and failed to create the desired enrty point. The potential threat of East Anglia hearing of their failure and attacked as the number of spectators increased. Jorvik waited anxiously outside the Royal tent as the King and his generals once again debated their strategy. Dusk arrived as the camp fell silent with the demoralized Mercians huddling around camp fires. Jorvik wandered what Felix and Adorno must be thinking, stuck down in their dungeon listening for sounds of their captures being attacked. Yet news of the sieges next step was not as he had hoped for. Idibil brought word from the Royal Tent that King Penda had decided to abandon the attack altogether. The army was to withdraw the next day as ambassadors remained to buy peace with Gwent. The threat from East Anglia was too great for the King to ignore.
Jorvik felt his stomach knot inside. He was so close to freeing his friend and returning home. He walked outside frustrated, forced to endure the sounds of celebrations echoing from within Caer Went. He sighed and walked away, heading into the woodlands that had been used for the construction of the destroyed ram. He stood in the dark and closed his eyes, desparate for any idea that would convince the King to stay.
“I understand you have much depending on this Jorvik.” Startled he turnt to the unexpected voice. It was the Spymaster. “We have been defeated today and it shall be unlikely King Penda will return here. Not at least until East Anglia has been dealt with. As the Spymaster continued Jorvik felt he was getting at something. “It was a daring raid you made on King Annan, capturing him the way you did. I guess it's as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“Ugljesa is your name if I recall correctly. The man who King Penda turns to when he requires a more un-orthordox approach. I have a feeling you are going to propose one.”
“You really are quick for a farmer. I do have a potential avenue to explore before the King and his army departs. One of the prisoners I detained last night has some interesting information. But he says he will only tell me if I bring him his friends. And apparently that’s you and Bjarkis.”
Jorvik went to reply but he was stumped. For the life of him he could not think who would claim to know him. Bjarkis perhaps but for himself the only friends he had were either locked in a dungeon or laid resting a broken leg. He followed the Spymaster back to camp where restrained together were several men. No torches had been lit so it was hard to make out their faces. As he approached a small shape jumped up.
“Not that one!” It shouted. “I said bring me Bjarkis who may be with this one-eyed fool.” Jorvik had to appraoch close to the little man in the dark before he saw it was suprisingly the little hermit.
“What are you doing here? Have you been following us?” Jorvik said leaning forward.
“Don't you poke your nose into my business. I maybe a small hermit but I have big eyes and bigger ears and know when a chance to earn coin is to be taken. You want a way into the town, I can give you away in. For a reward of course! There is a forgotten sewer that I can lead you through. From there you can get to the gates and open them for your Kings men.”
The Spymaster clearly pleased had already began to untie the hermit. “Prove yourself true and you will be greatly rewarded but there is no time to lose, if there is a way into Caer Went then take us now.”
With that they quickly set off. There was no chance to get the plan approved by King Penda so Ugljesa sent word to him as they headed for the sewer. Bjarkis had laughed when he heard of the hermits presence and reminded Jorvik how he would make a good tracker. Keeping silent they let the hermit lead them on quietly around walls. He hopped and skipped so fast the others had trouble keeping up with him. The hermit had spoken truthfully as an old iron grate lay hidden behind bushes. The way was cramped, only enough room for one at a time. Crawling without light Jorvik blinked and bumped his way through the dark unlit he air became clear and they passed through into an ally within the walls. The sounds of celebration could be heard from the defenders. With the Franks preoccupied they separated. Ugljesa made for Adorno and Felix who were held with all those that had gotten caught whilst Bjarkis, Jorvik and Idibil sought out the gate. The hermit soon disappeared back down the tunnel before he could be assigned a role. They darted of down the streets avoiding some townsfolk who lurked around despite the late hour. Peering out of alleyways and from behind crates they eventually made it to the front gates. But despite their daring deed their luck ran short as behind the gate were stacked many stones and wooden supports to prevent the rams entry. It would take the three of them hours to clear it all.
The cheers and laughs continued from the Franks as the three of them stood silent, unable to open the gate. As guards patrolling above came with thier torches they retreated back into a dark ally. Once they passed Jorvik noticed black drips running down the gates left from the substance that had been poured above. Following its sticky trail back up the stone walls Jorvik saw another clay pot used to hold the flamable liquid. “Greek fire!” He exclaimed. “We burn this sodden doors down.” Indeed it was possible and so they frantically scurried up the stone steps to the pot. With an effort they pushed it over letting the black contents spill down the gates and into the barriers behind it. The large pot clanged loudly as it hit the foor, guards alerted and came back to investigate. As two came into view Idibil and Bjarkis pounced onto them out of the dark. In the confusion a lit torch rolled of the edge and into the black substance.
For a time Jorvik lay on his back unaware there had been a great burst of flame sending himself and his companions flying off the wall. His ears rang painfully. Quickly he came too, seeing how he had been blasted down the alley and landing on Idibil. Bjarkis grabbed them both up, helping Idibil to put out his burning beard. “I think that did the trick.” Bjarkis said coughing and rubbing his watery eyes. The plan had worked better than expected as the gates lay burst apart, landing almost twenty feet from where they had been hinged. The way was now clear even if everything seemed to be on fire. Collecting their wits they ran back to the sewer. The cheers of celebration continued but now from the Saxons, not the Franks. As they crept into hiding they heard an almighty clash of iron as King Penda charged his men through the breach. Wheezing and sniffling they waited patiently for signs of Ugljesa.
As the Mercians piled into the unprepared defenders the streets flooded with fighting men, clashing together like opposing waves. The battle was intense. Men roared warcrys, other yelled in pain. Axes obliterated skulls and swords opened bellies. The stink of burning sulphur mixed with the clinging waft of severed flesh and running blood. Jorvik's mind spun as he heard more cries raised from another charge. Each of their blackened faces peered out from the sewers entrance to witness the other clash but instead were startled by the reappearance of Ugljesa. He wore a smile bigger than Jorvik thought his face could hold. “Its done.” Ugljesa said. “The captives are free and are attacking the Franks also. Come, you three have done enough for tonight.”
Ushering them down the sewer Ugljesa led them back into the fresh air beyond the walls exterior. Scuttling back across the way they came they soon return to the safety of their tents. Exhausted and with hearts pounding still they sat slumped on their fur beds. Too tired to speak they simply sat together smiling in silence.
By dawn the battle had been won. The Franks had soon surrendered and handed control of Caer Went over to King Penda. They were escorted back into the town by maids to meet the King and their rescued friends. The way had been cleared of corpses but thickening blood remained sticky underfoot. At the base of the town hall steps sat the King amongst his generals, cleaning his war axe. “Welcome again my brave hero’s. I congratulate you on blowing apart the door and not yourselves as well.” He said observing the missing portion of Idibil's beard. “I've heard of this Greek Fire but never knew of its potency. Ugljesa, as soon as we are done you are to acquire as much of it as you can find.” Speaking to Jorvik he said, “My new vassal, Felix is on his way. I must once again forgo any celebrations however. I hear East Anglia have already begun to regroup after the loss of King Annan and so my duties take me to battle on in the east.”
The King expressed further gratitude and requested they visit him in Licidfelth to receive a just reward. As he left Jorvik saw Felix and Adorno approach. Felix had managed to keep himself well pampered by the looks of it, despite his recent accommodation. Seeing Jorvik he called out. “My brave farmer. Hero of Hibernia and Lord of the Cows. It does please me to see you again. I here they have opened the fabled tavern Whores Hole especially for us. Come, lets get merry on ale and fat on roasted hog.”
Jorvik, Bjarkis, Idibil, Adorno and Felix sat down at last inside the tavern Felix had spoken so much about. Jorvik was surprised to see it was far more pleasant than the grotty back ally drinking hole he'd expected. When he questioned Felix on its name and lack of pleasure women Felix seemed shocked that he had even thought of such a thing. It would be later he discoverer Felix could not read and the Tavern was in fact called the Horse Hovel.
As they joyfully shared tales and exploits, Jorvik for the first time on his journey felt it coming to an end. He had made friends and enjoyed the adventure along side them but now it was time for his return home. He would miss them, even Felix. Yet he knew by now his destiny here was doomed to always fall into difficulties. Difficulties generally brought on by Felix's mischief. As the others gossiped amongst themselves Jorvik lent back in his chair chatting with his troublesome friend, asking about his plans now he had re-claimed his land back. Felix laughed and said he wasn’t shore of what he would do with it. After all, he had never owned such a claim. “You what!?” Jorvik almost fell out of his chair. “Felix, tell me you haven't been pretending to have had a claim on this town.”
“Yes. Terribly funny don’t you think?” Felix said asking a maid for more ale.
“Funny? Your mad Felix! What about King Penda?”
“Don’t worry about him, he's too busy fighting everybody.”
“But what will you do now? You cant stay here.”
“Exactly my good farmer friend. That’s why in short time we are going to sneak away. I have boats prepared but we need Bjarkis and his men.”
“You need them? What on earth makes you think they will want to be apart of this idiocy?”
“This town is famous not just for the Whores Hole, Jorvik. But for its wealthy mines too. The boats are all ready full of gold and silver. Everyone gets a share of course.”
“Oh, and you think Ugljesa the Spymaster isn’t onto you?”
“Onto me? He organized the boats, Jorvik. Keep up. He's coming with us.”
Jorvik sat back down staring at the ceiling. Felix he thought, really must be mad. King Penda's wrath would be unflinching as he sought to catch those who made a mockery of him. Never would this embarrassment leave his court. Jorvik felt it best if he forfeit his reward at Licidfelth and made his return home instead.” Drinking down his jug of ale all in one he stood up ready to leave. “I'm sorry Felix but I’m retuning home.” He said feeling content with his decision to depart alone.
“I know Jorvik.” Felix said patting him on the shoulder. “I'm coming with you.”
