The Warrior with the Pierced Heart

by Chris Bishop

  ‘What’s happening?’ I asked Aelred.

  ‘That bastard who has just arrived is one of their spies. They sent him out a few days back to look for possible targets and it seems he’s found some sort of settlement nearby. I assume they’re planning to raid it.’

  ‘But he’s a Saxon!’ I said, not sure that he was. He wore Saxon garb right enough but his clothes could well have been stolen to serve as a disguise.

  ‘So who better to send out on a mission like that? And don’t look so shocked, boy. There are as many traitors in these parts as there are fleas on a dog’s back.’

  ‘What are they saying now?’ I asked.

  ‘It sounds like they’re going to strike today.’

  ‘But surely they’re not that stupid! If they had any sense they’d wait till dawn and take the place when all are still abed?’ I protested.

  ‘These fools strike when best it suits them. After all, it’s likely to be some humble farmstead not a garrison full of warriors, so the people who live there won’t put up much of a fight. Sacking that will barely delay them beyond the time it takes to round up the poor wretches and add them to our number.’

  ‘So what can we do?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said looking at me strangely. ‘That’s their fate and it’s not our problem. But don’t worry about them, worry about yourself. If they take more captives they’ll soon have enough to be worth selling and so your fate and mine will have got just a little bit closer.’

  With that we were all ordered to stand. One of the Vikings said something to Aelred, who then translated for the rest of us. ‘He said we’re to follow quietly. If anyone makes so much as a sound, he’ll slit their throat.’

  A few moments later we moved off, the captives still yoked together and with Aelred and I struggling to carry the litter on which Knut still lay. He looked to be sleeping though I suspect Ingar had given him more of whatever she used to keep him subdued.

  Two men were detailed to keep guard over us as we travelled whilst the rest of the slavers moved on ahead. Aelred whispered that it might be the time for him and me to make our move. Although not armed, he was right that we stood a good chance of taking both men whilst the rest of the guards were so far off, but I glanced back at him and shook my head. ‘Only if they come close enough,’ I hissed. ‘If they stay back they’ll have too much time to ready themselves before we can get our hands around their throats.’ He knew I was right and besides, in such open ground we wouldn’t get far even if we did manage to make a run for it given that we were still bound together by the rope about our necks.

  Our path took us across an open heath of softly rolling hills, parts of which were so low lying that the ground there was often too wet to tread upon. The landscape beyond looked very damp and marshy and I wondered why anyone would live there. It was also dreadfully exposed, with precious little shelter from the wind and rain. At first I could see no sign of any settlement then, tucked beyond a slight rise, we came upon a cluster of seven or eight buildings which relied upon the lie of the land to protect them without even a fence or a ditch. In fact they had no defences at all apart from a small stream to one side and what looked to be a sizeable marsh of tall reeds to the rear.

  ‘What in God’s name do they do for a living here?’ muttered Aelred.

  There was no sign of any livestock and the ground was surely too wet for crops, so it had to be something they made. When I looked more closely I could see that one of the buildings was some sort of workshop, though there was no sign of a forge or a kiln. Three men and two women were working there but I couldn’t say for certain what it was they were doing. Beside it was another much smaller building which looked to be some sort of mill. It had a wheel which was turned by the flow of the stream but much too slowly to serve any obvious purpose. When I looked at the damp soil I wondered whether it contained some minerals or other deposits which had some use in making metals or perhaps pottery, but it remained a mystery.

  All the other buildings were obviously homes which, although not much more than hovels, looked to have been freshly thatched with reeds, presumably taken from the fringes of the marsh. Smoke was rising from one of the buildings suggesting it was occupied and I could hear the voices of children playing somewhere in the distance.

  Meanwhile we were made to sit with the hunchback and the one-handed man to guard us whilst the other slavers edged close enough to peer down at the settlement and formed their plan of attack, carefully keeping themselves from view.

  It occurred to me that if they had the nerve they could just walk in and take their prisoners without the need for blood to be spilled at all. With the marsh behind them, the people there would have nowhere to go except into the reeds from where they could be easily rounded up and taken. It was this that led me to realise that our captors were quite unlike raiders. They were of the lowest order, deserters and outcasts, second sons and probably those convicted of crimes, who had come together to trade in human misery. Certainly they were not warriors, but probably all the more dangerous for that.

  At the chieftain’s word, the raiding party began creeping closer using whatever cover they could find to keep themselves from being seen.

  ‘We should try to warn them!’ I whispered to Aelred, but he only scowled.

  ‘They’ll all be slaughtered if we don’t!’ I pressed.

  With that he turned to look at me. ‘And we’ll be slaughtered if we do! Is that what you want? To die like a dog for no reason? They’ll kill you in an instant and then still butcher all the people in that settlement down there as well!’

  At that the raiders stood up and surged forward, quickening their pace as they made their assault. Then, once they reached the first of the buildings, they began screaming and shouting as they charged headlong into the settlement.

  I can only imagine what sheer terror the people who dwelt there felt when they saw the Vikings coming down upon them. Most tried to run or hide, gathering up their children and possessions and scurrying towards the reeds where they hoped they might be safe. Some of them did try to make a fight of it. The first of them came out armed with nothing more than a long-handled scythe and, before being cut down, he managed to seriously wound one of the raiders in the belly but otherwise sold his life cheaply. The next to confront them was a young woman who had left it too late to run. She held a small knife but looked so frightened that I believed she was more likely to take her own life than that of one of the attackers. She was quickly overpowered, knocked to the ground then beaten with a stick where she lay. Meanwhile two of the other slavers lit a torch and threw it into the building which looked to be occupied. The dry thatch was like tinder so the building was quickly engulfed in flames. It was not long before two women rushed out, their clothes and hair blazing as they tried to roll themselves on the ground to douse the flames. The two slavers just stepped aside and laughed as they watched them die in agony.

  By that time two men had emerged from the workshop, both armed – one with a short-handled hammer and the other with a wood axe. At first they looked defiant but seeing that all hope of resistance was futile, the one with the hammer gave himself up whilst the other ran.

  Within no time at all the slavers had swarmed through the entire settlement wreaking havoc. They paid no mind to the carnage they inflicted, seeming to revel in all the blood and destruction they’d wrought. In the end they’d taken just five prisoners – three men and two women, all of whom were hustled into a group and prodded harshly with sticks and spears until they knelt in compliance, the women sobbing as they anticipated their fate. Even so, the slavers were careless of their prize, allowing several others to escape from the settlement, including the children who, clearly terrified, could be heard screaming as they ran desperately seeking whatever cover they could find within the reeds. Surprisingly, it seemed that the slavers could not be bothered to follow them, having presumably secured enough new prisoners to satisfy their needs.

  As I watched the raid I realised th
at the bloodshed had been unnecessary and wanton, the poor folk who lived there having had no proper means by which to defend themselves. Although incensed by the needless brutality of it all, I was grateful that at least the children had escaped, even though many of them would be orphans.

  Once the slaughter was complete, the Vikings burned all the other buildings having first searched them for whatever they thought might be of some value. It didn’t amount to much – just some tools and a handful of brooches. Aelred asked whether we might be allowed to bury the dead and have Brother Benedict say a few words for their souls, but the slavers just laughed when he suggested it. Instead, we were forced to leave their bodies to rot where they lay and their souls in want of salvation.

  Chapter Five

  Having completed their slaughter, the slavers forced us to join them in what was left of the settlement, making us sit amid the still smouldering ruins whilst they collected up their meagre booty. It was hard to believe that so much carnage had been wrought in so short a time and for so little profit.

  ‘They’re animals,’ said Aelred as we watched the new slaves being secured and added to our number. The two women were screaming and struggling against the prospect of their fate, but both were quickly silenced by a brutal fist. The men put up less of a fight, having no doubt realised that, for them, the punishment for resistance was almost certainly death. As he waited to be bound, one of them did try to intervene with the plight of the women. He made a brave but futile attempt to push past two of the slavers but was knocked to the ground and then kicked and beaten into submission before being dragged across to join the rest of us.

  Eventually the women were taken to one side. One of them was much younger than the other being not much more than a girl of perhaps sixteen years of age. She was also quite pretty despite some severe bruises to her face and the slavers soon began to argue over which of them would have her first.

  ‘They’re worse than animals,’ I said to Aelred.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean they’ve killed almost as many as they’ve taken. Good warriors would have surrounded the settlement and captured everyone alive and thus increased their profit. These fools prefer to satisfy their lust for blood before thinking of their purse.’

  ‘Oh, and how would a boy like you know about such things?’ said Aelred, surprised at my logic.

  I was tempted to tell him about my life as a warrior but decided to say nothing. Instead, I pointed to several of the Vikings who’d been wounded. ‘At least some of them were made to pay for their butchery,’ I observed.

  One of the Vikings was seriously injured with a wound to his stomach which had been inflicted by the man with the scythe. Two others had cuts which were probably not serious but needed attention. Once again Ingar seemed willing to help them and, as it appeared to have been decided that we’d remain there for the night, went off, accompanied by one of the slavers, to look for the roots and herbs she’d need for her ministrations.

  ‘They’ll finish off that poor bastard with the stomach wound if he can’t march come morning,’ observed Aelred almost gleefully. ‘That’ll be one less for us to deal with when the time comes.’

  I was surprised given that they’d carried Knut so far without ending his misery. Surely one more wounded man would make little difference to their progress?

  ‘Knut is a Jarl and therefore to kill him would be a crime for which they might well be called to account,’ explained Aelred who seemed to know what I was thinking. ‘The other man is just another warrior for whom death is to be expected. Besides, few men will survive a wound to the gut and I’ll tell you something else, it’s a slow and very painful way to die.’

  ‘Who would know if they killed them both?’ I asked.

  ‘They would,’ said Aelred firmly. ‘They’ll have sworn a sacred oath of allegiance to their Jarl and will not deign to break it. As for the other poor sod, they owe him nothing so won’t risk him slowing them down. Besides, reducing their numbers means a larger share of the loot for the rest of them.’

  In the meantime, the Vikings began sifting through the pile of booty they’d secured. Even this showed them to be miserly and mean as they quarrelled over trinkets that were all but worthless yet had cost the lives of so many.

  After she’d done what she could for the wounded, Ingar brought us some water.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I asked.

  ‘What do you mean am I all right?’ she snapped, no doubt angered at having been forced to witness so much pointless slaughter. ‘I’ve been raped and groped like a common whore and must now pretend to lie willingly with a man who stinks like a dog’s arse and whose rancid breath is so sharp it could cut through iron! And you ask if I’m all right!’

  One of the new prisoners urged us to be quiet. ‘Sssh! They’ll surely kill us all if they hear you!’ he insisted.

  ‘Kill us?’ laughed Aelred. ‘That’s the least of our worries! In fact killing us would be a mercy given what’s in store for us!’

  The man was suddenly quiet.

  ‘Why in God’s name do you still help them,’ asked Aelred almost accusingly. ‘Tending to their Jarl is one thing if it’s to curry favour with him but you should let the other bastards die so there’s fewer of them for us to deal with when the time comes to free ourselves!’

  ‘I’m a healer. It’s not my way to leave men to suffer. Matthew here is testament to that.’

  ‘Pah!’ said Aelred. ‘Let them all bleed out! And the more pain they suffer in the process the better so far as I’m concerned.’

  I realised that, unintentionally, Ingar had now mentioned my name but it hardly seemed to matter. ‘The one who has taken over from Knut and claimed you now seems to be their chieftain. Do you yet know what he’s called?’ I asked.

  She gave a little laugh, perhaps feeling better for having vented her anger. ‘His name is Ljot, but I call him Ljot the large. He seems flattered by that but it’s a reference to the size of his belly, not his manhood.’

  Both Aelred and I enjoyed the joke, as did several others who heard it.

  ‘Will you be able to help us?’ I asked, wondering whether her scruples would allow her to deal with her abuser as he deserved.

  ‘Help you with what?’ she asked.

  ‘With our plan to escape. If you could but…’

  ‘Matthew don’t even think of trying to escape. You’re not yet strong enough and you know full well that these men will kill you just for trying.’

  * * * * *

  As was bound to happen, the slavers soon turned their attention to the two women they’d taken as captives. The younger of the two had been knocked to the ground when the slavers first attacked; the other was possibly her mother or more likely an aunt who’d stayed to help her and thus been taken as well. The girl had been hauled roughly to one side where three of the slavers began to taunt her, pushing and shoving her as they each tried to force themselves upon her, revelling in the fact that she screamed in terror at the prospect of what she must have known would follow. The older woman tried to intervene, but the slavers had no interest in her and, given that she was too old to have much value either as a slave or as a whore, one of the men pushed her back hard against a tree and bound her to it.

  The three men began to get more and more impatient with their victim. Eventually they pushed her to the ground where they forced her to drink strong mead from a bowl then beat her several times before stripping away her clothes. Then, when she was all but naked, they took turns to rape her. When they had done with her they just left her where she lay, sobbing bitterly.

  The older woman pleaded to be allowed to help the girl, but the slavers just laughed. When she persisted one of them cruelly struck her with the flat of an axe, lashing out wildly and hitting her so hard that she slumped back against the tree, killed outright.

  ‘Bastards!’ I said as we watched all this, powerless to help.

  Aelred looked at me as though I was mad. ‘What did you think t
hey’d do?’

  ‘They didn’t have to kill the older woman!’ I said. ‘If they’ve no use for her they should have let her go.’

  ‘I’d say she’s the lucky one,’ he said simply.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘I mean that they’ve spared the younger one for a purpose.’

  ‘You mean to sell as a slave?’

  ‘Only if she lives that long. Most likely they mean to abuse her again and again. So what would you prefer if you were her? To die quickly like her friend or to be abused by them until they tire of you then kill you anyway just for the hell of it?’

  I knew he was right, just as I knew that I could no longer stand by and watch what they were doing. I looked around the makeshift camp but quickly realised just how bleak our position had become. The older woman’s body was bound to the tree, the rope securing her to it still tied around her waist; the girl who had been raped was still on the ground sobbing and all the other captives were sitting in silence dreading whatever fate lay in store for them. Even Ingar, who had been forced to witness the rape with a knife pressed to her throat lest she try to intervene, seemed to accept that there was nothing to be done.

  When the slavers settled down after their exertions, Ingar was allowed to tend the girl, though there was little even she could do except to help her dress as best she could given that all her clothes were torn. That done, she walked the girl towards the stream so she could at least wash herself, then soothed her and tended to her bruises. As they returned Ingar stopped to speak with me.

  ‘I’ll do what’s needed,’ she said simply, having clearly seen enough to persuade her to help us, despite her convictions.

  ‘Have you a plan in mind?’ I asked.

  ‘There is a way,’ she said simply. ‘Just hold yourselves ready. Whilst gathering herbs and roots I found all I shall need to give you your chance for freedom. Just remember that the next time you’re given food eat only the gruel and any dry bread,’ she advised. ‘Pass the word to the others and, when the time comes, do exactly as I say. All being well I shall pass you a blade with which to cut your bonds. Free yourselves then get as far from here as you can. And Matthew, don’t try anything heroic. Just remember that your wound is not yet healed within and will not stand too much exertion.’