“Mostly, but I usually don’t get it, not until the last few months at least,” he said giving her a meaningful glance. “Thank you for the bath, clothes and use of the bed. I hope that you also got some sleep?”
“My pleasure, or at least that of my fifty-year old housekeeper, who said she was most impressed with what she saw when bathing you.” A slight blush indicated that perhaps the attention had been slightly more personal than that. “And as for sleep, yes I had several hours on top of the bed next to you, with a maid in attendance of course. So perhaps one could say that we have slept together?”
Alan gave a hearty laugh before settling down with a sigh. “To business! There are four ships off Brightlingsea, holding more captives than we rescued this morning. I intend to take those ships tonight. Will you come with us and supervise the care of the captives once they are released? I don’t anticipate any significant danger. If you have any sailors or fishermen who are used to handling boats I’d appreciate it if you could lend them to me.”
Anne also returned to seriousness and nodded her acquiescence. “When do we leave?” she asked.
“It’s about four in the afternoon, isn’t it? I want to get started as soon as possible, so we come on the ships at about midnight.”
“Then we had best both get busy!” said Anne rising and calling for her steward Wybert.
Alan spotted Owain sitting on a nearby bench, tuning a lyre and walked over to him. “We haven’t had a chance to talk as I’d like. I’ll be taking a short boat trip in a few minutes, would you care to join me? Bring that longbow of yours.”
Owain raised eyebrows his eyebrows. “More action?” he asked in his lilting Welsh accent. “You seem like a man who can’t stop fighting. To be sure, I’d be glad to accompany you. Just I’m not going to do any rowing! I’ll get my bow and meet you at the beach.”
Alan interviewed the sailors from the Danish ships they had captured. They were 63 in number, about half Danes and the rest a mixture of Norwegians, Swedes, Germans, Finns and Icelanders, with a few Scots, two Russians, an Irishman and two Englishmen. Most had been hired for this expedition, although most of the Danes had sailed for the same chiefs before. Some had wives and families in their country of origin, but most were young and unattached. He chose 22 men from the non-Danes he felt he could trust, and offered them ongoing employment on the ships that he now possessed, promising housing and relocation to those with families. Anne had recommended seven local ex-sailors and two fishermen who could steer boats and who could be distributed amongst the ships for the night expedition. Osmund had been instructed to arrange the return of the Thorrington horses and had advised Alan that the men due to march to Clacton, Wyley, Thorp and Kirkly were more than happy to be carried part of the way on horseback.
Alan placed eight sailors and twenty warriors into each of four captured longboats. Sunset was due at a little after eight in the evening. Sunrise next day was due at just after four in the morning, with the moon appearing a little before two in the morning. With a northerly wind and outgoing tide they left at seven in the evening, gliding along silently.
Alan and Owain stood leaning on the stern rail of the ship, looking back towards the wake of the boat. “That’s a very useful bow that you have,” commented Alan. “Is it common amongst your people?”
“The longbow?” queried Owain. “”Yes indeed. That’s why the Saxons haven’t been able to conquer my people despite several hundred years of warfare along the frontier, and why you Normans will have the same lack of result.”
Owain picked up the bow that was leaning against the rail. It was larger than he was at 5’ 4”. The bow was 5’ 9”. He said, “The bow is matched to the bowman, being about as long as he is tall. The bigger the man, the longer the bow and the stronger they both are, but more important is the draw of the bow. The arrows are a cloth-yard long, 39 inches. As you saw today they can punch clean through chain mail. A good bowman will hit a single target most times at 200 paces and have fifteen aimed shots a minute.”
He strung the bow and handed it to Alan, who balanced it in his hand and then tried to draw it. It drew easily enough to the chest, but he wasn’t able to draw it to the ear. “It requires a lot of practice,” commented Owain. “You have to train and strengthen the specific muscles that you need, which are different from hacking around with a sword. Even a poor bowman will hit a single target at 150 paces most of the time and will hit an army all the time,” he concluded with a quiet smile.
“Why aren’t they in general use?” asked Anne.
Owain replied, “Because the men who hire the men to fight in wars all wear chain-mail. Norwegians, Danes, Normans, French and English. You wouldn’t encourage the use of a weapon that makes your expensive armour ineffective and swats your best trained swordsmen or horsemen like flies. We Welsh normally use it in close quarters in ambush, to punch through the mail shirts of the English. We don’t have enough men to stand and conduct a proper battle,” he said ruefully. “We have no armoured knights or huscarles and have been happy to kill the flower of Anglo-Saxon nobility well out of range of their double-handed axes. There aren’t many of us, so we hit, run and hide, disappearing amongst our wild hills at will. They burn our villages, but at a price- and a turf-roofed cottage is easy enough to rebuild when the invader has left the valley and you had little enough in the way of goods to lose in the first place. They kill every one of us they can find, but would discover we respond to the hand of friendship more readily- apart from the traditional cattle-raiding along the border. We really aren’t worth the trouble that has been taken over us by first the Romans and then the English. Perhaps the Normans will see more sense.”
Anne was clearly not comfortable with the idea of the English being invaders and the earls of Mercia guilty of attempted genocide.
“Don’t expect anything different from the Normans,” said Alan sourly. “If one sheep goes missing you can expect Roger de Montgomery, Hugh d’Avranches, Roger de Lacey and the rest to be across the border by nightfall, just for the fight if nothing else. Have your king talk to William when he returns, but despite whatever promises are made if there is any provocation by your people the war-bands will be on the march.”
Owain nodded his head at the words of advice and commented, “Certainly, and there is no way our people will give up sheep-duffing or cattle-rustling, not just from the Western Marches but also from each other. It’s a national pastime.
“Now back to these bows. They have a draw-weight four times that of most hunting bows, even those used for large game. They’re a specialist weapon that needs specialist training. Perhaps not full time, but a couple of half days a week. I’ve noticed your liking to kill the enemy at range to even the odds, or put the odds in your favour. I have no problem with that. Why stick a sword in somebody’s guts when you can kill him with no risk at 200 paces? Fuck chivalry! War is about winning and having the smallest possible number of casualties. What do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking about having a combined-arms force, similar to what we Normans are used to, but with a difference. From what you say, you Welsh rely on bowmen. The English rely on heavy-infantry, as do the Norwegians and Danes- although they are more mobile by using their boats. The Normans use infantry and bowmen, but our main weapon is the armoured man-at-arms on horseback, and the use of manoeuvre on the battlefield. We won at Hastings despite that combination not working well and not being able to manoeuvre because of the ground. My thoughts are for 50 cavalry, 100 trained infantrymen, mainly swordsmen, and 100 partially-trained levy spearmen. And fifty archers, armed with longbows.”
“Good God!” exclaimed Owain. “Are you intending to fight the earl of Essex? I doubt he could raise more men than that!”
“No, but I have no doubt that this week’s invasion by the Danes will not be the last. Swein Estrithson has a claim at least at good as William to be king of England. After all, it’s only twenty or so years since the Danish ruling family was replaced as the kings of England. Harold Hardrada of Norway had a good claim, but whether that died with him at Stamford Bridge has yet to be seen. Swein was distracted last year by internal politics in Denmark, or it may have been a four-way fight for England and only God knows where the result would have gone! Certainly England would lie devastated under the heel of whoever had won.