To close the range the archers had stepped out clear of the trees and stood 75 paces away carefully and almost arrogantly selecting their targets. With a hoarse shout about 20 Danish swordsmen broke from the right flank to attack the archers who were galling them from that flank. After shooting two more salvos into the advancing Danes, the archers turned and jogged back into the trees, where their supporting troops were waiting out of sight. The 11 men still remaining from the Danish charge disappeared into the tree-line and were not seen again. Two or three minutes later the archers reappeared and the hail of arrows resumed.
Alan shouted to the men around him and they stood, seeming to rise like wraiths from the ground 70 paces ahead of the Danes, hammered sword and axe on their shields and shouted the ancient battle cry of the English, “Out! Out! Out!” The remaining Danes, now about 60 in number, could not resist the challenge and immediately charged the English line as an uncoordinated mob.
Alan sounded his trumpet again and from the trees on each flank appeared a troop of mounted men-at-arms. They levelled their lances and as one charged the disorganized rabble, hitting them like two fists and punching in both flanks before wheeling to attack the unprotected rear of the Dane’s formation.
The front rank of the Danes had barely reached the English shield-wall when the main body, now only 20 or so strong, routed and ran for the boats. Half a dozen brave or foolish individuals continued to fight and perished in moments on the swords and spears of the English line. When the fighting was over the English warriors broke ranks and pursued the few remaining Danes down the clearing towards the mudflats.
Alan quickly called over Baldwin and instructed him to have the horsemen gallop down to the mud-flat, dismount and capture the boats, each of which held only a handful of guards and were grounded solidly in the mud on the outgoing tide. Moments later the riders were on their way, galloping down the corpse-strewn clearing towards the boats.
“Well, that seemed easy enough,” said a small voice from beside him. Alan turned and saw Anne standing beside him, the top of her head not quite coming up to his shoulder and her long red hair being blown by the breeze that was beginning to spring up. An aged thegn stood next to Anne looking embarrassed.
Alan removed his helmet, holding it by the nasal guard, and pushed back the coif of mail that covered his head so that it fell back around his shoulders, before using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. “You’re Wulfgar, aren’t you?” demanded Alan of the thegn, who nodded in reply. “I gave you instructions before, about the protection of your lady. If you were my man, you would now be looking for new employment. When I give you instructions you will follow them, no matter what your lady may say.” Turning to Anne he added, “And you will do what I tell you, at least on the battlefield. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ll go and stop our men massacring the last of the Danes.”
As he walked away he shouted, “Baldwin! Have our men strip the enemy dead and pile up the arms and armour back there. Any valuables are to be pooled and we’ll share them out tomorrow with the men of Wivenhoe who fought here. Get some men to scour the trees where the fighting took place, tend our wounded and get any dead ready to be sent home for burial.” Turning back he called out to Wulfgar. “Get your geburs to dig a big communal grave for the Danes. I want every sign of this battle removed within the hour. I’ll see you in the village in an hour.”
Including the guards who had been left on the boats, there were 34 able-bodied or slightly wounded Danes rounded up, stripped of weapons and armour and any valuables and standing under guard. All the badly wounded Danes had been finished off by the English by having their throats cut, the captors believing there was no need for the prisoners to suffer unnecessarily from their injuries.
The English archers, including Owain, were roaming the battlefield retrieving their arrows for future use. Alan walked up to Owain as he was cutting one of his arrows out of a dead Dane, threw him a purse of silver pennies as said, “When you’ve finished here, go see the Fletcher and see how many shafts he can make for you before dawn.”
Owain nodded. “This isn’t over yet,” he agreed, slipping the purse into his pocket.
An hour later Alan was satisfied with progress on tidying up the battlefield, although the mass grave was taking longer than it should. The two boats would be re-floated on the rising tide and Alan ordered them to be taken far up Barfleet Creek between Brightlingsea and Thorrington and hidden as well as possible. Four Danish sailors were released to assist under guard.
Alan trotted into Wivenhoe mounted on Odin, who was showing his disappointment at missing out on the morning’s activities by tossing his head and sidling whenever he though Alan’s attention had wandered. Alan gave a jerk of the reins to show his displeasure.
The ride to Wivenhoe took only a few minutes and as he rode onto the village green at the centre of the village Alan was for a moment struck dumb, before he applied his spurs to Odin’s flanks and galloped up to Wulfgar, nearly riding him down in the process. “God’s blood! Are you totally bereft of your senses?” he roared down at Wulfgar from the saddle of the prancing horse. He indicated the village green where soldiers and villagers were mingling, casks of ale had been broached and food was starting to be cooked over open fires, although it was still only mid-morning.
Anne appeared next to Wulfgar, “What is the problem? The men won a singular victory. Wulfgar told me that it was the best piece of generalship he has ever seen. Since he saw Harold at Stamford Bridge, that’s no mean compliment! The men are entitled to their celebration.”
Alan looked at the two of them in amasement. “You really don’t understand, do you? Either of you? Lady Anne I can understand, but you should know better, Wulfgar. She may be unfrod and inexperienced but you must be ungleaw and stupid.” In reply to their puzzled expressions he continued speaking slowly as if to village idiots. “Fourteen ships rowed north towards Colchester this morning. They’re probably arriving there about now. I sent a rider to fitzWymarc, so I expect that the fyrd will have been called in, the gates closed and the walls manned. A raiding party that small is unlikely to be able to take Colchester by storm except by unexpected attack. What do you expect they will then do? Simply disappear like magic? If they can’t take Colchester, they’ll plunder and burn every village they can reach from the river in Lexden Hundred and Winstree Hundred to the north and west- Mile End, Dayneland, Beer Church, Fingringhoe- to get what they can to make the expedition worthwhile. And sitting on the east side of the river is Wivenhoe, all by itself. And you want our warriors to celebrate and drink until they become incapable? There’ll be 800 Danes coming back down that river, possibly late today but more likely tomorrow or the day after. They won’t be coming to pay a social visit. They’ll be here to pillage, burn, kill and rape.
“You need to be calling in every member of the fyrd and every man who can hold a knife. I expect to have 200 more men from Tendring Hundred here by nightfall- they’re marching in on foot. If I don’t, we’ll have some new thegns next week! After we have beaten the Danes when they come back down river, if we beat them, then you can celebrate.”
Alan stalked off muttering to himself and found Baldwin, who had his men well in hand and had restricted them to a pint of ale each. Alan gave permission for the men to take off their armour and rest after the long night and busy morning, and to receive a second pint of ale. As Baldwin helped Alan out of his hauberk and gambeson he gave a report on the losses for the morning’s battle. Three dead and one wounded amongst the archers; four dead spearmen and one injured; one dead swordsmen; one dead horseman and one with a severe leg wound. There were a number of minor injuries that would not prevent the men fighting again. Several of the villagers were dead or injured, but he had no details.