‘WITH ME!’ I roared, lowering my lance so that it pointed towards the enemy as I rode knee to knee with Eudo and Philippe. ‘Stay close; watch your flanks!’
We rode towards the dawn: some twenty knights and more, and I was at their head, leading them, leading the charge. Blood pounded in my ears, keeping rhythm with my horse’s hooves. Around a hundred of the enemy had now crossed the bridge, but these ones were lightly armed, with only spears and shields and helmets, and many with even less than that. They saw us bearing down upon them, and straightaway came to a halt. My limbs, which had been starting to ache, suddenly felt fresh; my spear and shield were light in my hands. For I knew that these were not trained warriors, but men of the fyrd, the peasant levy.
‘Scildweall!’ I heard one of them cry. He alone was dressed in mail, and I took him for a thegn. The call was passed down their line as they brought their shields together: the faces painted in purple and yellow, the iron bosses shining, the rims overlapping. ‘Scildweall! Scildweall!’
They thrust their spears out towards us, the points shining silver in the dawn, as yet unbloodied. Above them, the sky was ablaze, the clouds lit with streaks of orange and yellow, and I thought of the mead-hall at Dunholm: of the flames rising up, engulfing the timbers and the thatch; of Lord Robert who had been inside; of the look of despair that had been on his face that last time I had seen him, branded forever in my mind.
I gritted my teeth, lifting my shield to protect my horse’s flank. The shield-wall wavered, the men glancing at one another. Already I had sighted the first one that I would kill, and as we closed upon the enemy I met his eyes and saw the fear that lay within. He froze where he stood, his spear-haft falling limp in his hands as he stared at me, open-mouthed, and then I was upon him. Too late he raised his spearpoint to fend me off; too late he remembered to cover his head with his shield as I buried my lance in his neck.
Beside me hooves were battering down upon limewood, crushing legs and skulls, and the enemy line was crumbling as we forced them back. Their thegn bellowed to them, but whatever he was saying, it was in vain as they fell before us, our blades ringing with the song of battle. More men were coming to join us, pennons flying, adding their strength to the charge, and all of a sudden we were driving the enemy back towards the bridge.
From where came a wall of huscarls, their spears and their axes defiant, even as before them the ranks of the fyrd were failing.
‘Eadgar cyning,’ they shouted, all as one. ‘Eadgar cyning!’
Had I paused then, I would have seen how many they were and how well armed, and known that for us to ride towards their shining blades would be to invite death, for we had no hope of breaking them. But the battle-rage had taken me, and I saw victory at hand, knowing that if we could get to Eadgar and I could kill him, then we could win the battle there and then.
‘On!’ I said, willing my horse faster. Hooves clattered upon stone as we arrived five abreast upon the bridge. ‘On! On!’
I lifted my lance above my head, drew my arm back and hurled it towards the first line of huscarls, as beside me Eudo and Philippe did the same. The enemy raised their shields to protect their heads, but in doing so they left themselves exposed from below, and at that same moment we came, swords drawn, riding hard, and I was thrusting my blade forward into their hauberks, cutting at their undefended legs. Some of our lances had sunk themselves into their shields, weighing them down, and as they tried to pull the shafts out we were cutting into them, bringing our sword-edges to bear.
But for each one that I killed, another came to take his place. Just as before, once the impact of the charge began to fail, then they began to press us back, the first row bringing their spears to bear even as those behind reached over them with their long axes, the blades sharp enough, I knew, to sever a horse’s neck in one blow.
‘There are too many,’ Eudo yelled, though I could barely hear him over the crash of steel, the screams of men and of horses. ‘We need to fall back!’
A spear thrust up from my right, narrowly missing my mount’s head, and I brought my sword down upon my foe’s hand, slicing through the finger-bones before dragging the point up his ventail into his throat. I clenched my teeth and heaved my blade into the path of the next Englishman, missing by a hair’s width as he ducked low. He lifted his head and then I saw his helmet with its gleaming cheek-plates, and the rim and nasal-guard, shining gold like the sun. It was Eadgar.
He charged, leading his men from the shield-wall, just as the bright disc of the sun broke above the houses on the far shore. The light glinted off the enemy’s mail and off their blades, and for a moment I was blinded. Dark figures swarmed below; in desperation I slashed my sword at where I thought they were, and found only air.