Havelok the Dane: A Legend of Old Grimsby and Lincoln

by Charles W. Whistler

When he saw that, Sigurd, who was a man of many fights, said that we had better send the marshmen round to fall on the wings of the foe, while we went straight for the centre of the line in the wedge formation that the Viking loves. For so we should have no trouble in crossing the stream, and should cut the force against us in two.

So the two Welsh thanes led their wild levies out on either side of us Danes, who were in the centre, and then we formed the wedge. Havelok himself would have gone first of all at its point: but that we would not suffer, for if he fell the battle was lost at its beginning.

“Nay,” he said, “for we fight for Goldberga.”

“And what would she say were we to set you foremost of us all?” asked Withelm. “Little love were there to either of you in that. You are the heart of the host, and one shields that although it gives strength to all the hands which obey it.”

So Withelm and Arngeir and I went foremost, and behind us came the courtmen, and in the midst of their shield wall was Havelok, with Raven and the banner at his side. After them, rank on rank and with close-locked shields, was such a force as had not been seen in Lindsey for many a long day. Alsi’s men grew very silent as they saw us come on, until we reached, through a storm of arrows that could not stay us, the bank of the stream, and then they raised a war song that roared and thundered among the hills as though the tide was coming up the valley in one great wave. But we saved our breath until the first of us were on the banks of the stream, and then I shouted, and with a great shout of “Ahoy!” in answer, we charged through the stream and up the far bank, where Alsi’s spearmen waited for us.

They crowded together as they saw how narrow our front was, and there was a hedge of steel before us three brothers; but the spear is not the weapon to use if one would check the onrush of the Northman’s wedge, and shield and axe between them dashed and hewed a way to the men who got to their swords too late, and then we were in the midst of Alsi’s line, with the gap that we had made widening behind us with each step that we took forward.

Now it was sheer hewing at the mass who crowded on us; and I mind how we seemed to fight in silence, although the battle cries were unceasing, and waxed ever louder; for it was as when one walks by the shore and thinks not at all of the noise of breakers that never ends. Now and then there was one shout that was new, and it seemed to be the only voice. Most of all, the noise grew on the wings where the savage Welsh fell on their masters and ancient foes in wild tumult.

We tried to cut our way to Alsi, for we could see him as he sat on his horse—the only mounted man in all the hosts; but we could not reach him. And presently the time came when we who were foremost must let fresh men take our places. Sigurd stepped to my side, and Withelm fell back, and another took the place of Arngeir, and then my turn came, and we went slowly from the front to where the hollow centre of the wedge gave us rest. Only a few arrows fell there now and then; but the time for using bows was past, seeing that we were hand to hand with all the Lindsey host. And then I saw that Sigurd had done what we had failed in, for he had reached the shield wall that was round the king himself. And for a moment I was savage that the chance came to him so soon after I had left the fighting line; but then I minded that Eglaf, my friend, would be there, and I was glad that I need not cross swords with him after all. I had thought of that happening before the fight began, but in the turmoil of hottest struggle I had forgotten it.

Now Sigurd was before the thick mass of the housecarls, and hand to hand with them; and then he was among them, and he leapt at the bridle of Alsi’s horse and grasped it. I saw the king’s sword flash down on his helm, and he reeled under the stroke, but without letting go of the rein. Then the housecarls made a rush, and bore back our men, and the horse reared suddenly. There was a wild shout, and the war saddle was empty; and again our men surged forward, so that I could not see what had happened.

But now our Welshmen had been beaten back from the wings—not easily, but for want of training—and they were forced back across the brook, and there held our bank well, giving way no step further. The water kept them in an even front, against their will, as it were; and Alsi’s men charged them in vain, knee deep in the stream that ran red. But that let loose the men who had been held back from us; and now we were overborne by numbers, and we began to go back. That was the worst part of the whole fight, and the hardest hour of all the battle, as may be supposed, for the wedge grew closer, as it was forced together by sheer weight. None ever broke into it.