The Temporal Knights (56 page)

“It’s cozy,” Hersey said and meant it.

“Yah.
Come now let’s get started or there’ll be nothing to eat this evening, and the boys are powerfully hungry.”

Hersey did as he was told, letting Hester order him about, first bringing in wood and then starting a fire before helping her knead the bread. It was surprisingly hard work fixing a meal directly from scratch, but Captain Tom Hersey found that he loved every minute of it.

Chapter Fifteen

T
hree Toes Erdwine rode hard and fast out of the hill town of Epsom, where he’d changed to a fresh horse. He had a fine mount beneath him now and it would take one to get him to Rochester and Sir Eadwulf before all was lost. The ride, which began at Winchester, could be made in as little as six hours with four strong horses, but this trip was now stretching to near fifteen. For the first leg of the trip Three Toes rode through the dark of night and pushed his first two mounts nearly to the breaking point. He galloped along the old roman road before striking east on a much older track. He raced through many a small village without stopping but as luck would have it a good, strong mare miss stepped leagues outside Eashing and he had to make his way to the next town on foot. And while no one south of Eorforwic could touch him on horseback, as his name suggested he was much less nimble a foot. All three toes on his right foot were aching something awful when he finally limped into Epsom. The fall had cost precious time.

King Alfred cautiously moved from Winchester to Shaftesbury three days prior but when news that the Boneless had landed in Bridport reached him, the King quickly decided he could wait no more. Word had it that the Danes sacked and burned the coastal town in retaliation for the death of Ubba on the Lizard. Locals claimed the raid was led by Ivarr himself, who was enraged beyond reason and was moving up the coast toward Exeter to exact more revenge. King Alfred quickly realized that this may be the chance to trap his enemy after all these years. But the King was cautious and hesitated to move down on the Lizard without an army at his back, least he be trapped as well. The Boneless was nothing if not crafty. Thus he would not be leaving Shaftesbury without his warlord Sir Eadwulf at his back, especially with the still unknown Americans to the north. Eadwulf would come, Alfred was sure and perhaps together they could finally smash the infamous Danish raider once and for all.

Three Toes knew he had to get to Sir Eadwulf quickly before the Boneless took his plunder and was gone. Sir Eadwulf would march west, of that neither Erdwine nor his King had any doubts. Up to this point Alfred would not allow Sir Eadwulf and his army west of the Avon, at least not south of the Thames. But given the chance, both men were sure that the Earl of Kent would waste little time taking advantage of the situation. Thank gods for the King’s daughter, Æthelf
læ
d, the Lady of Mercia, who would be pushing down from the north to keep an eye on the Earl as he was keeping an eye on the King. Even Eadwulf would think twice about treachery with her army at his back. Three Toes pushed his mount faster still, worried that the King would become impatient and move down to face the Boneless alone. There was little he could do now for the people of Bridport, except avenge them.

This leg of the trip was the longest, but Erdwine refused to hold back, wanting to make up for lost time. He knew the brave, strong animal beneath him might die from the exertion, but all speed was needed now. But Three Toes had a good feel for the animals he rode and considered himself to be the best rider in all of Wessex. As he rode he became part of the horses that strained beneath him. He could instinctively gauge their strength or lack of, and knew when they would tire and when they could go no farther. This one now was a wild one, proud and strong, and would not quit until death was all that was left for her. It would be a true shame to lose one such as this. But on he rode, through Croydon, a small trading post and ferry stop on the Medway River, and once across, the stretch drive to Rochester. He’d ridden this path many times
before, but never for a cause so dire. His bones and muscles were beginning to ache mightily at the strain he was putting on his own body.

‘Twold
na be long now,’
he thought as the sun rose in his face, and he charged the last few miles to Rovescester. He was so tired. It would be good to rest, and he actually smiled as he topped the ridge which finally brought the Earl’s fortress in sight. He continued to pound closer for several hundred yards before his brain registered that something was very different. There was a large glistening tower of some unknown purpose rising high above Rovescester. It soared above the mighty keep, rising nearly to the heavens, and there were many strange beasts moving in and out of the main gate. Finally, Three Toes pulled his spent mount to a stop, where the horse snorted loudly, slick with sweat. From his vantage point, he could see many oddly dressed men milling about the gates of the fortress and in the town itself. There were many extraordinary things about that he did not understand. Rovescester did not have the feel of Sir Eadwulf anymore. Everywhere people were moving about with purpose, and the ever-present bodies that hung from the parapets were gone, as were the crow’s nests and the scaffolding on the far side of the main gate. Erdwine was at a loss. He knew that his horse was very near its end, mayhap a mile farther, mayhap two, and then the animal would collapse. Some unknown sense told him that Sir Eadwulf was no longer the Lord at Rovescester, but what could he do? Alfred needed an army at his back, and if he turned away now the King definitely would not get it. But if he continued...

His decision was made for him as five unnatural beings materialized out of the very earth on either side of the road. They were large and faceless, but moved about as men do. Three Toes’ first thought was of forest ogres, the kind his grandmother had sworn by in his youth and he shivered with fear. The horse beneath him though, once stopped, would go no farther and as the strange beings approached Three Toes’ fear grew so great that his own spent body could take no more, and he fainted dead away and fell to the ground.

When he awoke an hour later, Erdwine was surrounded by men…just men, but he knew none of them, and for certain Sir Eadwulf was not present.

“Hallo, I
be Sir Ceorl of Mercia. Ye be from King Alfred?”

“Yah,” Three Toes answered, his hand moving to his forehead. He was relieved to see a man instead of those faceless ghosts of his earlier imagination. “I’ve come with a message for the Earl of Rochester.”

“Eadwulf is dead,” Sir Oldalf barked loudly and then introduced himself.

“Aye.
I have heard of ye,” Three Toes commented and slowly pulled his sore body to a sitting position. “Yor dottir has caused quite a stir at court.”

“Me Ellyn.
Wot news of her?” Oldalf demanded, stepping closer.

“She
be fine....” Erdwine said holding up a calming hand, “and a vision for the eyes. Tis said Sir Gospatrick is a bit taken with her.”

“Yah,” Oldalf mumbled, somewhat mollified, but then noticed that the King’s messenger was staring suspiciously about at other strange men present. Sir Oldalf apologized and introduced Peebles, Lemay, Rice, and Sir Elid.

“Tis the King in for some trouble?” Sir Ceorl asked. “Ye have come a long way and fast I’d say from the condition of yor mount.”

“Aye, did the animal survive?”

“Yah, she lives...a good strong horse to be sure.”

“Aye.
Where be Sir Eadric?”

“Dead,” Sir Ceorl answered and saw alarm in the messenger’s face, “and the Earl’s fyrd was dispersed.”

Erdwine’s eyes grew large at the news. Sir Eadwulf was by far the strongest Lord in the land, nearly as strong as the King himself. The rough alliance between them was all that kept the whole of Angland relatively safe against the marauding Northmen. If Sir Eadwulf was gone and his army dispersed as was claimed, well then the King was in a dangerously weakened position.

“Methinks, the King trapped then,” Three Toes said sadly, noticing how the large, strange men toward the back moved forward at this news.

“Trapped?” Sir Ceorl asked.

“Yah.
He grew tired of the raidin’ along his southron shores. The Northmen have grown bold under the Boneless, attackin’ and raidin’ inland from Wight these past days. Tis said that Ivarr himself leads this latest raid at the mouth of the Lizard...and it helped na the King’s disposition that the Boneless spent the winter on Anglish soil.”

“Spit it out man. How is the King trapped?” Oldalf shouted able to stand the ramblings of the messenger no longer.

“It may na happen, but the King was movin’ his army down the Lizard after Ivarr, and was ‘xpecting Eadwulf at Shaftesbury to watch his back. Sir Alfred thought Ivarr’s move had the smell of a trap, and if he moves farther down the Lizard without the Earl’s fyrd behind him...” He stopped as the men behind him hurried to the far corner of the room and huddled over a table. Sir Ceorl and Sir Oldalf went with them and Three Toes gingerly stood, as if he were surprised to find that his legs would hold his weight.

“It is a distinct danger,” Erdwine heard the man called Peebles say. He moved forward and saw that they were studying a map, the finest map Robin Three Toes had ever laid eyes upon. “If the King moves down this peninsula he could easily be flanked and surrounded, especially by the sea going Vikings.

“I thought King Alfred succeeded in driving out the Danes?” One of strangers asked, and Three Toes looked questioningly at Sir Ceorl, who shrugged and ignored him with a wave.

“He did,” Rice answered, “in our history, but our arrival may have changed all that. Perhaps Eadwulf’s presence was the key...and in that case we just eliminated the key. Who knows what other changes our presence here has brought? Like ripples in a pond, one pebble can change the entire complexion of the water.

“Who be these strangers?” Three Toes asked suddenly, very concerned.

“We’re here to help your King,” Peebles replied, then ignored the messenger. “What’s the ETA of Captain Hersey?”

“He’s supposed to arrive late in the afternoon around 1600 hours,” Lemay said with raised eyebrows. “I’ll get on the horn with Thane and see if we can speed them up.” The General nodded.

“Get me Sergeant Moore. We’ll have to prepare for immediate departure.”

§

King Alfred waited for Sir Eadwulf for two long days along the coast at Bridport, but could hold back no longer when he received word that Ivarr’s Danes were marching on Exeter, so with a great deal of trepidation he began to move his collected army northwest toward Sherborne. They moved slowly since most of his men were on foot, but they were much better equipped than at any time in the recent past and marched toward battle in good spirits. The King however, was not so enthusiastic. He knew that this move down the Lizard could end in disaster. He’d received no word from either Sir Eadwulf, or his daughter F
læ
d, who was to move to Winchester and guard the city against the Earl of Kent. But Æthelf
læ
d’s silence did not greatly concern him. He did not question her loyalty in the least. And while Alfred had no doubts about Eadwulf’s ability to raise and organize a fyrd in such a short time; his motives were always suspect. Still he needed the Earl. The man was a master at war and would undoubtedly jump at the chance to move his fyrd to Shaftesbury, if only to intimidate his King and wring a few more concessions out of him.

Æthelf
læ
d would see that Eadwulf did not hold all the cards and that he remained loyal to his King and country. Eadwulf was no fool and Alfred thought it unlikely that he would try anything, or underestimate the Lady of Mercia, who was every bit as cunning and ruthless as her father. Of course this may just be an exercise in worry, it was very likely that Alfred would move his army down the Lizard and be spotted by the Boneless, who would then flee to his ships and be gone, just as they had many times before. The Danes were a constant menace, professional soldiers all, better equipped and trained than anything the Anglish could hope to maintain. To make matters worse they were far less interested in fighting, and much more prone to stealing, burning and raping. Easy pickings is what the Danes were all about and they’d honed their hit and run tactics to a fine edge. To make matters worse they were almost always horsed, and could move much faster about the land than the Anglish counterparts, who were always a foot. Alfred’s army, which normally outnumbered the Danes by a good margin, was slow and mostly untrained, since the bulk of the force was comprised of cottars, farmers and field workers pressed into service. It was a continuous exercise in frustration, rushing about after an elusive but deadly enemy, and now he had these American strangers to worry about.

But thankfully the day was sunny and warm, good weather for marching, but also good weather for spotting an enemy. And sure enough, just as they reached Sherborne, an outrider appeared and reported that the Vikes were moving fast along the coast road toward Exeter.

“The Boneless?” Alfred asked the tired, sweaty rider and the man grinned.

“Yah, he
be with them. Saw him ridin’ out front meself,” the rider answered and a great cheer went up from those within earshot. Alfred felt his heart leap in his chest, and his excitement passed through his legs to his great warhorse, Bunerslieht, which meant thunder stroke. The shaggy horse shifted and snorted beneath him. Alfred smiled and nodded to the messenger, then looked to Sir Helmstan, his chief advisor after Asser, his priest and confessor.

“Ye must cut off the Boneless before he can reach the river Exe,” Helmstan said, advising for a bold move down the Lizard. Alfred nodded but turned to Sir Wulfhere, the Ealdorman of Wiltshire. The old man shook his head.