Drustina continues on her tour of Edrinor's Mercian kingdom as she assess the Viking threat. The recapturing of a Viking held village for the Mercian King enables Drustina to send a sharp clear message to the Viking King Harald Cold-blood.

The Angry Mermaid 89
Or
Y Morforwyn Dicllon 89.

Before Drustina’s troop entered the village of Dore, they paused as they usually did while they checked the location over. Drustina’s battle seasoned eye scanned the area from the moor they had just crossed. The eastern slopes of the Pennine hills provided an excellent panorama.

“I’m thinking that will be the River Trent or a tributary of it.”

Her guide explained they had another thirty or so miles to go if they wished to see the river that was deemed the key to any Viking invasion from their main base at Yorvik. Drustina was keen to view the river and, if possible make a diversion north to see where the great river spilled out into the Umbre Estuary. She had been told by Edrinor that the river was wide enough to accommodate a whole fleet of long ships and it was the key to any water-born attack from the eastern side of the range of hills that ran the length of north Britannia. After a brief chat with her companions they decided to overnight on a bluff at the foot of the Pennines then enter Dore in the morning. The site was easily defendable so she made camp then sent an emissary into the village.
Within an hour and after darkness had fallen, their emissary and a village elder arrived on panting horses.

“You cannot stay here overnight, it is too dangerous,” the elder declared.

“Why not?” Drustina asked.

“It is not safe, we are but fifty miles from the Umbre and there are Viking war bands constantly raiding.”

“What! This far into Edrinor's realm. Why does he allow it?”

“It is difficult to stop them my lady.” The replied as he glanced curiously at Carl and wondered silently why the large Saxon man was
not speaking for the travellers.

“And why is it difficult to stop them?” Drustina pressed.

“The river allows all but the biggest Viking warships up to a point another twenty miles above our village and several of the tributaries allow them to infiltrate further inland.”

“Oh surely not. Surely you can attack the longboats as they sail up the river.”

“They are too powerful my lady and it would only invite retribution. Some of the Viking bands number fifty strong!”

Drustina glanced askance at Carl and Althred then turned again to the elder.

“Are you saying then that Edrinor simply lets the Vikings attack at will?”

The elder hesitated before replying.

“Well, not exactly, he adopts a policy of letting the attackers expend a lot of effort and resource making their way south towards Nottingham or Lincoln then he has time to concentrate his forces and attack them at a place of his choosing.”

“But that means the Vikings have got freedom to range freely amongst the lower reaches of the Trent River where they can travel quickly in largish numbers by ship. What stops the Vikings waging a full scale attack?”

The village elder shrugged.

“I don’t know my lady. We are expecting a full scale invasion at any time, possibly in the early autumn when the ripening crops will provide food to feed their army while they attack. We won’t be able to burn the crops and retreat because our own people will starve without food stored for the winter.”

“So Edrinor simply sees you and treats you as some sort of sacrificial resistance.”

The elder nodded reluctantly for that was exactly what they were. Drustina bit her lip and said no more except to politely refuse the elder’s suggestion to take refuge in the village. He left looking unduly concerned and Drustina wondered whether he had been the bait to entice her group into the village and into a Viking trap. Once the elder had left, Drustina turned to Carl and Althred.

“We’ll post a double guard tonight, one outer and one inner ring. There are sixty men at arms so set three watches and all men are to sleep ready for battle separate from the women. The women should hide inside that deep cleft for they will be hard to find and easy to defend. Carl can I ask you to organise it, I’m going to take a look at the village.”

Carl frowned.

“Shouldn’t you take some men with you? I know you can take care of yourself but you never know.”

“If I’m not back by the fourth hour, that is two hours before the dawn, bring twenty men into the village fully armed and prepared to fight. You know which ones to bring.”

“Of course Dru, but I’m still asking you to be careful. You haven’t given me an heir yet.”

Drustina chuckled.

“An heir to what, we neither of us has a kingdom yet husband.”

“Not yet.” Carl replied ruefully, “but one day soon I hope; once these Norsemen are beaten.”

“Right, amen to that and that’s why I’m off to gather intelligence.”

Carl grinned as he thought privately.

‘Intelligence, intelligence, intelligence; still she’s right and no mistake!”

“Well go carefully anyway.”

“I will,” she replied as she slipped silently away into the shadows.

Carl stood watching until she disappeared then turned to discuss arrangements with Althred.

~~oo000oo~~

Instead of following the trail directly all the way into Dore, Drustina took her boots off and silently picked her way for the last dark mile through the forest that bordered the town on the west. Her bare feet enabled her to feel for any twigs or obstructions that might have revealed her presence. She was not surprised to see a camp fire flickering on the far side of the village where the river bordered the village. An external camp fire in a village were plenty of shelter was to be found required investigation and Drustina was soon within earshot of the silhouettes sat murmuring around the fire. She soon determined them to be Norsemen and of course she had an excellent understanding of their language for it was almost identical to the tongues of Dansk and Svensk which she had learned during her adventures in the Baltic.

The Norsemen’s conversations told her as much as she needed to know and she slipped away to prepare an attack. Before the middle hour she was back at the camp and explaining.

“I saw one ship that looked capable of holding between fifty and seventy men. We are sixty so I think with the element of surprise we should free the town of its jailers.”

Carl nodded sagely as he offered.

“So it’s silent approach followed by surprise attack. We won’t need our horses, just leave a few men to guard them.”

Drustina nodded and the warriors prepared as she explained.

“No armour but plenty of weapons and extra leather jerkins. The only men who will be wearing mail will be the Viking guards. I saw a couple of men come out of a large central hall to go for a pee. I suspect they might have commandeered that building as a barracks. We must creep up and dispose ourselves to gain maximum surprise and advantage.”

The whole band, save for the lookouts murmured their assent and soon a single column of some sixty men were following their leader silently towards the village. Within two hours Drustina’s loyal followers and the Saxon volunteers were arraigned for a fast silent attack. A single soft foxy yelp signalled the attack and three score of silent wraiths emerged from various vantage points. The slaughter was completed before a Viking sword was drawn. Drustina viewed the carnage with some satisfaction as she whispered her next instructions.

“Anybody hurt?”

“Only a few Norse,” Althred replied evincing a low chuckle from the gathered companions.

“Right, phase two, surround the village and surround the great hall. I’m thinking that’s where the bulk of the others are bedded.”

“Shades of Honfleur Dru,” Carl whispered.

“Same plan Saxon,” Drustina replied to her erstwhile companion. “If a thing works don’t try and fix it.”

Carl organised his party to the rear of the hall while Drustina set most of her men at the front whilst despatching a dozen to watch the roads out of the village and other important looking buildings like the church and an inn that was opposite the great hall. Carl, Drustina and Althred stayed in sight of one another then when Drustina dropped her raised sword a dozen fire arrows were ignited and fired through any open windows that the hot summer evening had encouraged. Immediately two score of fire arrows were then fired into the door posts and window jambs so as to silhouette anybody attempting to escape.

Very quickly bellows of alarm preceded a wild stampede from the inside as Norsemen roared and cursed when they ran into arrows at every attempt to emerge. Then, just as Drustina anticipated, there were female shrieks of terror as flames really began to take hold inside. A Norse voice roared angrily.

“There are women trapped in here! Let us out.”

“Come out one at a time and throw your weapons well clear as you step into the street.” Drustina instructed. “Are they Saxon women?”

“Of course they’re Saxon women!”

“Then let them out first!”

Immediately, the female shapes appeared illuminated by the flames as they all flung themselves out into the street as flames licked at their clothes. Drustina screamed instructions.

“Go to the two men by the trough. They will dowse any burning clothes.”

All but one woman managed to escape and it was Althred who rushed forward to drag her clear of the doorway as the flames raced hungrily along the old tarred timbers.

“Are there any more women?” Drustina demanded in Dansk.

Her use of Danish and her women’s high pitched voice caused the Norsemen to curse then squeal.

“Who are you bitch?”

“The lioness of Carthage; you can come out now, one by one. Some use the door and others use the two front windows. Don’t try to escape via the sides or back, you are surrounded!”

There followed a few moments of silence as the trapped Norsemen considered their situation. It wasn’t long before the first Viking appeared. He flung his sword to the side and held out his hands to demonstrate his surrender. Drustina was mildly surprised and frowned. Normally, Vikings fought to the death but this lot were acting like frightened maids. Drustina felt edgy.

Her suspicions were soon justified for after several Vikings had emerged, the ninth Viking had a woman in his grip. Immediately all bows were aimed at him but he simply stepped up behind the cluster of earlier emergers and held the girl tight against his chest. Having decided he was at no risk and safe so long as he held the Saxon hostage girl, he shouted back.

“You give us free pratique or all the women and girls die.”

Drustina knew it was pointless to waste time arguing it would simply give the invaders time to organise and prepare for the next fight. Instead, she simply signalled with her sword and immediately a score of arrows were loosed into the eight unarmed Vikings.

Drustina watched seemingly unmoved and the girl’s jailer gasped with shock as he witnessed the slaughter. That plus the desperate shouts from within the burning hotel was enough to turn the man’s mind, the last reasonable option had been closed to him.
As he desperately considered his options, or rather his lack of options, Drustina passed her hand over her long blond hair in a typically evocative, feminine manner that caused the man to momentarily lose his concentration. He stared hard at Drustina for a moment as he tried to make sense of the stunningly beautiful warrior who faced him. As his concentration wavered, his grip on the Saxon girl slackened momentarily. She sensed his hand easing and tried to break free from his grip but it was a half hearted attempt and the man simply twisted sideways and reached out to yank her back. This was all the space Drustina needed. She had already reached over her shoulder to seize the throwing daggers nestled in their shoulder scabbards so when the Viking’s arm extended the deadly knife was already streaking towards the man’s unprotected ribs. The blade grazed the girl’s wrist and she shrieked with fright but the weapon had already found its mark; low down under the Viking’s left arm and deep into his lower lung. The man cursed but managed to keep hold of the girl even if he could not pull her against the handle of the embedded knife. He gargled a bubbling curse and raised his right arm to kill his captive but the sister blade was already out of its scabbard and starting its flight towards the Viking’s arm pit as he raised his arm to bring his sword across the Saxon girl’s slender neck..

Drustina’s second blade was thrown with considerably greater force and thudded into the Viking’s chest with a sickening ‘thunk’ as blood spattered forth. Drustina had obviously pierced some important blood vessel. She watched dispassionately as the Viking groaned as his arm faltered while his blood erupted from the wound and spattered the Saxon girl’s face.

The blood, combining with the Saxon girl’s terrified expression, gave her countenance a maniacal twist until she realised the Viking’s grip had broken. She lunged sideways and stumbled to her knees before reaching out in supplication to her rescuer. For reply, Drustina simply leapt over the kneeling girl and advanced to a critical position where she had a better view and overall command of the village market square. As she landed, her sword blade administered the coupe-de-grace to the Viking who only moments before, had been an omnipotent executioner acting for the Viking king Harald Coldblood.
The Saxon girl continued wailing until Drustina had to order her to shut up because she needed to shout to the trapped Vikings and women inside the burning hall.

“Come out in pairs, each of you with a girl prisoner!”

For a moment only the roaring and crackling of flames filled the pregnant silence then finally a voice called back.

“How do we know you will not execute us?”

“I won’t need to execute you in a few minutes; the flames will do my job for me. My sword is much less painful and more noble than burning to death in flames and smoke.”

As she shouted this, she signed to her companions to shoot arrows into the Viking’s legs once they were well clear and out of sight of the doors. It would do no good to have disabled Vikings blocking up the only exit. It would also be counterproductive if the emerging Vikings saw their companions being disabled in full view of the front doors of the hall. Drustina’s more experienced companions readily recognised the issues and they spread out to form a line that would compel the Vikings and their female captives to move to the side of the hall and out of immediate sight.

When the first pairs emerged Drustina stood prominently in full view of the doors and motioned to them to move to the right. As they stumbled out coughing and half blinded by the smoke, the Lioness of Carthage loudly directed them to the open space that seemed to promise refuge. When the Viking occupiers arrived in the human fold, they received arrows in their legs but their screams were no louder than the roaring and crackling of the flames combined with the terrified screams of the captive women still inside the hall. The higher the flames rose, the hotter it got and the more the terrified women screamed as they urged their captors to move out quickly. This situation was exactly what Drustina wanted and the Vikings stumbled out unaware of the fate that awaited them.
Eventually the screaming inside the hall ceased and Drustina could only surmise that everybody was out. She tried to check inside but the flames were too severe and eventually she was forced to abandon the great hall to the flames. She now turned her attention to the forty or so wounded Vikings who mostly lay writhing on the ground cursing their wounds. Carl was gathering up their swords and axes whilst wagging his head in disbelief that none but a handful of Vikings had been carrying bows and arrows.

“No wonder they didn’t fight back Drew. We had them at our mercy. Look, almost no bowmen.”

Drustina took Carl’s word and simply shrugged.

“More fool them. Only a fool would wade into battle with sword or axe if the enemy has a company of bowmen. Have you checked with the women about survivors, of the flames that is?”

“Althred’s doing that now. His understanding of Mercian Saxon is better than the others.”

Drustina nodded and decided to set a score of her men to digging the Mercian villagers out of their homes. What she needed now was information and intelligence.

One of the conundrums that had been nagging at Drustina’s mind was the seeming lack of any response from the villagers. Despite the raging clamour of battle and the noise of the blazing great hall, Drustina had not seen a single Saxon emerge from the hovels to offer some sort of support. As she stood in the middle of the square counting the various costs of the fight Carl emerged from the scorched timbers that were all that remained standing of the great hall. He slumped onto a wooden water trough and wiped his soot-blackened face.

“As far as we can discern Dru, there doesn’t seem to be anybody left amongst the ashes. Have you had any luck questioning the women who got out?”

“Some darling, they think everybody is accounted for, at least amongst those who were in the hall.”

“They’ll be glad to see a woman’s face amongst our lot. Look at us; we all look like wild animals. Badgers that is.”

Drustina smiled at Carl and bent down to kiss him passionately.

‘Only Carl, of all her battle companions, seemed to have the sensitivity to understand the trauma that the Saxon women must have endure, big, powerful, rough-hewn warrior that he was; underneath that bearlike frame beat a heart as sensitive as any maid’s.’

As their lips parted, Carl looked up from his horse trough and grinned.

“You’d best wipe your lips and cheeks my lady; now you look like a badger as well. Come to think of it, those black stripes suit you.”

“Watch-it Saxon!”

She slapped his face playfully then grinned and turned to find the rescued women staring at her in disbelief.

“What ‘choo looking at?” She frowned. “Not all men are pigs. This one’s my guy so hands off! And another thing, where are your menfolk. Our job would have been easier with a few more villagers to swing a sword or something!”

Althred’s voice answered her question as he returned from quartering the village.

“They’re not here Lioness. Apparently, every able-bodied man has been called away to train for combat in Edrinor’s ranks.”

Drustina spun around as the disbelief spread across her face.

“What!! Everyone?”

“So it seems. Only old men and boys remain here.”

“So we can presume that a band of what; seventy Vikings, sailed their ship right up to Dore without once being challenged.”

“Seems that way my lady. They arrived in the night and capturing the village proved to be a cake-walk.”

Drustina turned to a familiar face; that of the Village elder who had come to them the previous afternoon.

“Is that true?”

He nodded shamefacedly but Drustina did not condemn him; if all the fit men had been conscripted into Edrinor’s ranks then there was little that old men and boys could have done against the well armed group of invaders. Resignedly, she turned to the group of Viking invaders who were all wounded to a man. A large dark haired man with a broken arrow stump embedded in his thigh looked up resentfully at the provocative figure looming over him. She sensed he was the leader and asked as such.

“Are you the leader of this expedition?”

He nodded truculently and reached towards his knee as he cursed in pain.

“Yes damn you!”

“How did you get so far into Mercia without being challenged?”

“It’s easy. The damned Mercians are running around like headless chickens.”

“You mean they are not keeping proper vigils.”

“Yeah. Something like that. They concentrate their troops and armies around the main cities but leave the rural lands to be laid waste. Our job is easy.”

Drustina realised the man was not lying. The proof was his being there in front of her. She also realised that Edrinor had little if any grasp of naval warfare. With armies only moving at walking pace, carrying large companies of soldiers in ships was an obvious logistical solution. The attacking Vikings arrived en-masse and fairly well rested unless they had been forced to row. Knowing that the Trent had a useful but not too powerful tidal bore, it was easy to bring ships rushing inland for as far as the bore had power. It only required a few practiced strokes to keep the Viking longships on track. She’d used the very same tactics on the River Seine and its Mascaret.

The Lioness’s main problem now was dealing with the wounded Vikings. She was sorely tempted to butcher them all but she had not noticed any evidence of carnage or butchery around the village. Indeed, the women prisoners seemed remarkably calm about the situation, so much so that one or two were even going amongst the wounded offering water. Drustina’s feminine wiles quickly realised that these raiders were not the stuff of Viking legend. She tackled the Viking leader again.

“The villagers seem to be at some ease around you. Was there a fight when you took the village?”

The chief shook his head contemptuously.

“Nothing, just women and boys we simply walked in and claimed the village. We don’t kill women; or children for that matter”

“Who did you claim the village for?” Drustina demanded.

“Harald Cold-blood.”

She nodded thoughtfully as she studied the chief. He bore a remarkable similarity to the Viking king. She wondered if he was related but needed to find out subtly. She had no intentions of revealing her acquaintance with the Norse king.

“What would happen if I sent you back in sheer disgrace?”

“We would probably lose our status amongst the ranks. I would most likely be demoted to a mere foot-soldier.”

“It seems to me you are simply ‘a mere foot-soldier’ now.”

The chief tried to stand but his wound prevented him as he declared his identity and status.

“How dare you. I have a string of horses at my home in Yorvik! My royal rank obviates them.”

Drustina smirked contemptuously. She found out what she needed to know.

“Oh! Royal rank now, is it? Well do tell, would it be worth ransoming you?”

“Yes it would! I am Harald’s only nephew.”

“So; why should that prevent me from calling you a mere foot-soldier now? I see no horses here.”

“My Ransom price is high. I am the heir to Harald’s titles and throne.”

“Are you now? Well that’s interesting. And how would a ransom note be delivered to your butcher of an uncle? From what I’ve heard of his nature, he’s likely to slaughter the messenger.”

The Viking simply wagged his head for he had not got a constructive reply. Everybody Knew Harald Cold Blood was a ruthless king; that was how he got his name. The Viking war chief had to agree with the cursed woman who stood so boldly before him; his uncle probably would kill the messenger.

For the moment Drustina had other fish to fry. She left the prisoners to the care of her guards and rejoined Carl and Althred. Althred turned to ask.

“So what’s to be done with these bastards? Do we kill them all?”

Drustina smiled knowingly.

“No need for that. Once their wounds are healed they will make useful slaves. Un-man them and use them as replacements for the village men.”

“What all of them?” Carl asked. “Surely some of them have value as ransom material. I heard that arrogant one declare his worth.

It would be a pity to geld him, I’m sure Harald will pay a useful sum to get his only nephew back.”

Drustina contained her smile. She still had not declared the father of her youngest twins. Instead she kept her secret to herself and agreed with Carl.

“Aye, he likely will pay us a useful sum as you put it. I suggest you and Althred go amongst our captives and determine each man’s worth to his family or whatever. Ransom the most valuable ten then geld the rest. Get the healer to geld them; she’ll kill less than your warriors. I want some use left in them if they are to work the villager’s land etc.”

Carl savoured the news and approached the wounded Viking chief.

“Count yourself lucky Norseman. Your worth means you are not to be gelded and enslaved. The ten most valuable ransoms will be demanded, the rest are to be changed to eunuchs.”

Carl deliberately said this loudly and a groan of despair rolled around the wounded prisoners as they digested the news.

~~oo000oo~~