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Quickly slipping a tunic on over his head he cursed the coldness of the bare stone floor on his feet as he hurried out into the Hall, where extra torches were being lit and placed in the sconces in the walls and posts. Baldwin, still brushing sleep from his eyes, was sitting next to the remains of the fire, head close to that of a roughly-dressed cheorl.

Seeing Alan’s approach Baldwin rose and said, “This is Aeglaeca. He’s ridden as messenger from Edward of St Osyth. A little after dark a shepherd at Point Clear saw ships in the estuary, rowing north. The wretch couldn’t count them but said that there were more than he had fingers- he probably had his shoes on. It sounds like a Danish or Norwegian raiding party,” he said. “Edward has gathered his men, is fording Brightlingsea Creek and warning Edsel, the King’s Reeve at Brightlingsea, to collect more men and march up the coast, keeping an eye on the ships.”

Alan nodded his understanding. Trading ships didn’t row anywhere. “Rouse all of our men and get them into their chain-mail, and get all the archers here. Ring the church bell, that’ll bring people running! Requisition every horse in the village. A messenger is to ride to Robert fitzWymarc at Colchester at once. That’s probably where they’re heading. Se3d riders to Great Bentley, Tendring, Little Bentley, Cliff Mistley and Bradfield. One rider can do that as they are all in the same direction. Another for Alresford, Frating, Bromley and Elmstead. One for Wyley, Thorp, Kirkly and Clacton. One to Oakley, Ramsey and Dovercourt. I want 100 men at Wivenhoe by dawn, and every man in the Hundred who can carry a spear, sword or even a pitchfork there by mid-afternoon. Move!

“Otha! Hot food for all the men now and trail rations for breakfast. You have half an hour!”

Within minutes the church bell was ringing and men were streaming into the Hall. Some stood shrugging their way into chain-mail vests, others in leather or padded armour. They helped each other with the fastenings and with buckling on arm and leg guards made of boiled leather.

Alan hurried into the Solar, where Edyth helped him into his padded gambeson jacket and then tied the lacings at the back of the chain mail hauberk he slipped on over the top. Alan slipped his poniard knife into his belt and draped the baldric carrying his sword in its leather scabbard over his shoulder. Edyth bound the leather thongs over his woollen trews while he pulled on his riding boots. His green-painted shield, a single handed battle-axe and a green cloak completed his martial array as he strode out into the forecourt.

The forecourt was as active as a nest of ants kicked over. Grooms were leading horses out of stables, some with saddles and tack in place, others still to be attended to. Men dashed back and forth, many still stumbling from either the effects of sleep or the ale that they had drunk the previous evening.

Just 45 minutes after the alarm 68 men rode north. Others were to follow on foot as soon as possible.

It was early on the Wednesday 30th May. The moon provided sufficient light for them to find their way on the dirt track that ran through forest and meadow, the pathway taking them about five miles. As first light began to illuminate the sky at about 3.30am they were 115 strong, including the men collected at Frating and Alresford.

A little over a mile south of Wivenhoe they saw that two of the longships were in the process of beaching themselves on a mudflat while another fourteen continued to row north, oars dipping regularly as they headed into the narrowing estuary towards Colchester on the Colne River. Alan sent a rider hurrying on ahead to raise the alarm at Wivenhoe and to bring all available men able to carry arms.

Alan had his men and horses briefly rest, hidden behind a small rise in the ground, as the raiders began to disembark and wade through the mud towards the shore. Alan dismounted and stood with the rising sun at his back as he surveyed the scene.

There was a clearing some 200 paces wide with stands of trees and thick bushes to each side, on the north and south. The ground rose slowly until it reached the summit of the small mound on which he stood. The village was about a mile to the north, most of that distance covered by forest. It appeared that the raiders wanted to take the village by surprise with a massed charge.

Alan ordered 10 of his light cavalry and 20 archers into the forest on each side of the clearing, together with 15 spearmen and swordsmen on each side in support. Hugh took the right flank and Baldwin the left. This gave Alan 25 men, mainly thegns and their armoured men-at-arms that he had picked up along the way, to hold the front until the men from Wivenhoe arrived. Alan had them place themselves on the reverse side of the slope, lying down to hide their presence. There was muttering and dissent at this, the warriors wanting to stand and challenge their opponents in the traditional way, but Alan insisted on silence, stealth and ambush.

As the raiders struggled out of the mud by the water and onto firm earth the first of the men from Wivenhoe began to arrive in twos and threes and were put amongst the line which was to confront the enemy. Alan had four crossbowmen, who he stationed along the 50-pace wide frontline, when he noticed a thin man of medium height and dark complexion carrying what seemed an unusually long bow and arrows a full yard long. Alan walked towards him and greeted, “God Hael! That looks like a fierce grim weapon! What’s your name, and what can you do with that weapon?”

“As to my name, I’m Owain from Cardiff. As for my friend here, well your crossbowmen can shoot a bolt 200 paces, and if they are good can shoot two bolts a minute. At 200 paces, with no wind like this morning, I can ask you which eye you want me to put this arrow through, and shoot every five seconds.”

Alan clapped the Welshman on the shoulder. “You sound like the answer to my dreams! When we start, I want you to kill every Dane who looks like a leader or who is issuing instructions. Then kill the rest. Kill every mother’s son of them! How many arrows do you have?”

Owain smiled ruefully as he looked at the 100 or so Danes now forming up and starting to march up the clearing. “Not enough! Never mind, I’ll do my share!”

Just then Alan noticed Anne riding up accompanied by ten men. He hurried over, “What in God’s name do you think you are doing here? This is men’s work. You two, take your lady back to the village. You others, join the line.”

“Nay, Sir Knight!’ said Anne with spirit “This is my land and my people. I’ll stay.”

“Goddamn stupid woman!” muttered Alan under his breath, but obviously not quietly enough as Anne flushed with anger. Several of her accompanying warriors scowled; several others nodded agreement with Alan. “Right! Get over there in the trees,” he pointed behind and to one side. “Four men to protect you. That’s four men less I have in the line to fight the Danes. Move! Go now!”

Turning back to the developing battle, Alan saw the Danes were moving in four groups each about 25 strong; they were bunched together and were half way along the clearing, walking as if they hadn’t a care in the world, talking and laughing as they went. Alan moved to kneel on one knee next to Owain. “I want that one with the red cloak at the head of the lead group first, then pick your targets well.”

He raised a trumpet to his lips and blew once. A hail of arrows rose from the forest on each side of the clearing, striking down the unsuspecting raiders. Owain’s first arrow took the leader in the throat and he dropped like a marionette with the strings cut.

Volley after volley of arrows hammered into the ranks of the Danes, who in response turned outwards, resulting in a large inverted V-shaped formation. Owain carefully shot down any man who was trying to organise resistance and the Danes stood shocked and confused, crouching behind their shields. Because there were archers on both flanks the Danes’ shields were little protection as each group facing the trees was vulnerable to attack from behind and many fell with an arrow in the back.