The Battle is finally won and Drustina uses her remarkable whiles to tame the Viking beast.

The Angry Mermaid 126
Or
Y Morforwyn Dicllon 126.

As she and her army advanced towards her enemy Drustina had to admire the Vikings’ courage. They retreated inwards in good order as their perimeter shrank with the steady attrition of their forces. Eventually the Vikings were reduced to a large group of defiant warriors who looked fully prepared to die to a man.

To Drustina, it seemed such a waste. Such able bodied men would make good slaves or even decent landsmen if they were prepared to accept quarter. There was no doubt at all that the battle was won for there were now barely a thousand Vikings confronting several thousand well trained and battle hardened Saxons and Mercians plus many Cambrians and Hibernians. The roars and clamour of battle had subsided to little more than the harsh clash of blades and the occasional cry of pain. The Vikings simply fought mechanically and with grim, silent determination as they realised the end was close. The Allies also fought in silence because they were similarly exhausted and breath was no longer cheap.

Drustina seemed to be the first to emerge from the almost hypnotic mind-set of battle as she saw her sword pierce what turned out to be a young Viking lad, barely out of adolescence.

The sight of his tearful face coughing up his last blood spattered breath as he tried to cry like any child, the sound of his last choking breath was enough for Drustina. Her adversary had been but a child! In the heat of the battle she had not noticed.

‘By the gods!’ She wondered. ‘Have I become a child killer now?’

A wave of nausea overtook her as she glanced around to see that there were no immediate threats or targets. Deeming it safe, she suddenly let rip a deafening, piercing, banshee scream pitched only as a woman could; so high and loud it penetrated even the clash of weapons.

“Stop!!!! Stop a moment! I offer you remaining Vikings quarter!!”

For a brief moment the clash of weapons halted as all men recognised a woman’s command that could only have been the Lioness. Ethelred span around to confront the Lioness by bellowing over the heads of his men.

“What the hell are you doing girl?!!! Are you insane? We must finish this bloody Norse threat once and for all!”

Drustina wagged her head in disagreement. It was just the opposite! She had not gone insane, she had just become sane! In her years of endless combat she had found that even the most brave or brutal kings sometimes accepted quarter in extremis. Even if their loyal supporters and warriors were sworn to fight to the death, Kings occasionally proved to be more amenable and logical when confronted with certain death. Throughout their peacetime existences, kings had to learn the arts of politics and compromise; treaty and arbitration. Drustina knew she was looking at at least two kings fighting to the death and she now had time to test her ideas.

‘Was Harald amenable to negotiations?’ She asked herself as swords remained poised to resume the clash and clamour of war. ‘Did all Vikings seriously wish to die bravely in combat as the only key to open the gates of Valhalla?’ Drustina thought not ... ‘not all surely.’

Her sudden acquisition of total control of all the combatants on both sides was almost euphoric but she kept her head as she screamed across the bloodied mass of wounded and paused men. The very fact that the Vikings had seemingly stopped to listen, told the Lioness that at least some wished to see their homes, women and children again. Having brought the battlefield to its unexpected silence, Drustina called again.

“Cold-blood! Constin! Forden! I offer you quarter!! Will you accept terms?”

“Constin is dead!” Came the reply that Drustina recognised as the voice of the man who had raped her but three years ago on the training fields of The Havre.

She was about to reply to Cold-blood almost conversationally because the remaining Viking leaders had not yet refused point blank. Before she spoke however Ethelred forced his way to Drustina’s side through the press of armsmen.

“What in God’s name are you up to woman?!! We have them at our mercy!”

“I know!” Drustina snapped back impatiently. “But mercy is a woman’s prerogative and I want that man alive!!”

“Why woman? In God’s name why?!!!”

“I have my reasons and I have the power. Look about you Eth; all these men, friend and foe alike have stopped! They are obeying me; not you, not Cold-blood ... me!” Drustina replied as she turned again to shout across the swathe of death and destruction that now lay silent at Seripatese’s bloodied hooves. Her voice rang out clear and shrill yet somehow commanding attention.

“Cold-blood, I am waiting for your reply! I also know that the Scottish King Constin had a son old enough to fight; is not that Scottish prince with you now to speak in his dead father’s stead?”

A young man sitting just in front of and below Harald Cold-blood raised his helmet and replied.

“I am woman! What do you offer?”

Drustina noted that Cold-blood had not censured his young Scottish companion nor had the Viking leaders broken out into argument. She realised there was obviously some room to manoeuvre so she gently rested her bloodied fingers on Ethelred’s tired and trembling arm as she indicated her feelings.

“I think they are prepared to parley your majesty; are you?”

“Is it worth it?” Ethelred replied while gasping with fatigue and clutching tightly to his pommel.

Drustina noted only then that Ethelred was also carrying a wound for blood was flowing over her fingers. She replied gently as she tapped his arm to acknowledge that she realised his arm was cut.

“Every man is a mother’s son Eth. I am a mother so I am asking; is there need for any more killing?”

“Huh a typical woman’s view!”

Drustina turned sharply; ready to scold the king but she found him grinning with relief as he wiped his face of spattered blood. Drustina had also brought respite for the Saxons because if they resumed fighting, Saxons and Mercians would also continue to die. He hid his gratitude for her skilful diplomacy and remarked.

“No offence Lioness but you as you say, you are a mother and mothers worry for their sons.”

“And rightly so Eth, rightly so! Hush, I think they might be going to reply.”

She and Ethelred turned to towards the small hillock where the Viking high-command stood defiantly. A third voice called back. It was Forden the Irish cousin of Harald Cold-blood.

“What terms do you offer?”

Drustina openly confessed.

“We don’t know yet; we’ve only just stopped fighting. Firstly, we can certainly offer you your lives if you're disposed to keep them.”

“Are you offering to parley then?”

Drustina recognised the Scottish prince again and she turned to Ethelred just as Gisela was returning from Carl and the Trebuchet. The Norse princess had just overheard King Forden as she eased her horse through the exhausted press of men. When she joined Drustina she added her view.

“Are you seriously preparing to parley with them?”

“Yes princess.” Drustina answered. “This is how it should be. After war there must be magnanimity or the whole bloody thing can re-emerge in the next generation. The Scottish prince at least sounds amenable to parley. Is Carl alright?”

“Yes, he’s fine. He’s very pleased with his handiwork. Can I speak with my father then?”

“Be our guest,” Ethelred replied, “but not just yet; let us get the man to the negotiating table and hammer out a deal.”

“My father is not prone to negotiating.” Gisela replied thoughtfully as she rubbed her injured and bleeding shoulder.

“He will be now Princess,” Drustina reassured her. “He has no options but death or parley. Does your shoulder hurt?”

“I can hardly lift my arm. Fortunately it is not my sword arm.”

“Then all the more reason to parley. If you are wounded you’re ten times more vulnerable in a battle. Surely you do not wish to die here at the very threshold of victory?”

“I can still fight!” Gisela replied angrily. “That man owes me.”

“Then talk with him! Demand that he pays what he owes if he’s prepared to talk. Your voice will throw him. It will tell him you are alive – for better or worse. Go on; shout to him, make him realise he has another daughter besides the brood mares he has married off for political ends! ... A girl of some greater worth than just a baby machine! Speak to him, your voice will turn his head.”

The lioness’s words gave Gisela pride for it countered the usual misogynistic accusations about her sapphism and presumed sterility. Gisela was not sterile she just did not want some brutal, forceful man in her bed. Her eyes teared up in gratitude to Drustina.

“Thank you Lioness let us see if you are right,” Gisela replied as she stood proud in her saddle so her father could see her.

The Viking princess called across the stilled battlefield and for long moments the silence was overpowering. Finally Cold-blood himself replied.

“Is that really you Gisela?” The surprise and emotion clearly cracking his voice.

The young princess became too emotional to reply so Drustina replied for her. Only Drustina, as a woman, could understand the turmoil twisting through Gisela’s young head – a daughter’s head. The Lioness replied in Gisela’s stead.

“Yes! It is your daughter Cold-blood, she would speak with you if only to curse you but we must all speak of other things as well. I ask again, are you prepared to accept quarter and parley?”

Cold-blood bellowed clearly across the battle field and sighs of relief whispered forth on both sides.

“Very well Lioness! We are prepared to talk about talks.”

This time the Viking’s reply had come back immediately and Drustina smiled knowingly at the young princess.

“I told you girl! I told you your voice would affect him.”

Ethelred also snorted with relief and surprise.

“Well that’s a bloody start and no mistake! He’s always lived by the sword until now.”

Drustina turned and grinned at the Saxon king then suggested.

”We’d better call Edrinor down off his hill; he’s got an older wiser head.”

“Not as wise as yours Drustina,” Gisela observed and several voices murmured ‘aye’ amongst the loyal foot soldiers that were closest to them.

Drustina turned to Edrinor’s son who had also now finally reached them after much furious and bloody fighting. His arms and face were spattered with blood and gore showing evidence of his hard sword-work.

“Good to see you Mercian and well fought may I say. Go and get your father, there is talk of parley and he is a wise man. You will learn much from him.”

The Mercian prince’s eyes widened with gratitude at Drustina’s remark, for many had deemed Edrinor to be a weak and vacillating coward. Such a description from the Lioness of Carthage no less, was praise indeed. He spoke softly for he also was weary from killing.

“Thank you Lioness, I will fetch him. His bones ache with age and the journey from Nottingham has been hard on him.”

“I know that my friend. Campaigning is a young man’s game!”

“Or woman’s,” the Mercian replied as his weary expression brightened into a grateful smile. He saluted the Lioness with his sword and turned to fetch his father.

Ethelred watched the prince depart and turned to Drustina with a new respect.

“You have a way of winning men over don’t you Dru?”

“I try Eth, I try, now shall we meet with these Viking kings?”

“Do we go armed?” Ethelred wondered aloud.

“Sadly Eth, I think yes. Trust nobody at this stage!”

Slowly they eased their way up the hillock through the mayhem of blood, bodies, wounded and the exhausted survivors. Drustina recognised several of her oldest companions amongst them. A deep sorrow overtook her and she was truly glad to be parleying.

~o00o~

As they made their way up the hill, Drustina sat slump shouldered in the saddle as relief began to invade her exhausted body. Seripatese sensed her weariness and moved extra gently as she picked her way delicately between the corpses over the muddy ground made yet more slippery by blood. Ethelred and Gisela quartered Drustina’s flanks and a phalanx of Ethelred’s best bodyguards rode in close company on either side to dissuade any overly zealous Viking from attempting something rash. As the Lioness’s group approached the Viking leaders, Cold-blood signalled to his men to allow them through the outer perimeter. Drustina had expected to meet with a wave of resentment but instead sensed more a mood of weary relief amongst the Norsemen. Slowly the Viking shield-wall parted and Drustina motioned to her companions.

“Wait here please. I’ll go alone from here. There is business I must sort privately and it does not involve killing. It concerns only him and me but it is a very private matter and it might well change his attitude.”

Ethelred cursed.

“Dammit! You can’t do that Lioness! If you go alone they could cut you down like a reaper to the corn!”

“I have to know if he is a man of his word. He accepted quarter so if he honours that acceptance he will not harm me. If I am attacked then the response is yours to decide. If he treats me as he should, then I will know that he is at least a man of honour. I will tell you now Eth, most of the Vikings I have met are at least honourable. Bloody, murderous, greedy and brutal even, but mostly honest with their word and their promises. This is the acid test.”

Ethelred fretted and cautioned his mounted guards.

“If you see the slightest move, charge!”

Drustina acknowledged Ethelred’s support and eased her mare forward. Now she sat upright and proud in her saddle with her breasted cuirass emphasising her maidenly curves, but under that cuirass her heart beat wildly with fear. It would only take a single arrow, a single wrong move! Slowly and deliberately she rode forward.

~oo000oo~
Copyright to Beverly Taff; Author.