Viking Storm

by Griff Hosker

  I put the stopper back in. “We will drink more when we reach the stream. Now I had better see to this warrior and your mother. I will leave neither for the carrion.”

  I replaced the warrior’s helmet and laid the sword along the body. Piling up stones on top I soon hid it. Then I turned to the she-wolf. I could see that was even more emaciated than her cub. She had died making sure he would live a little longer. “The gods have sent Úlfarr to me. I swear that I will care for him.” I began to lay stones on her corpse. Úlfarr growled. I turned. “I am not harming your mother. Be at peace as she is now. Her spirit knows that I will care for you.” I continued making a cairn of stones and then when she was hidden I stood and, raising my arms, said, “Mother, here is a true mother. Watch over her spirit for she was noble.”

  I put on my cloak and then went to the cub. I had to trust that I had bonded with him. I gently put my arms beneath him. He growled a little but I sang gently to him as I did so. “Cubs and bears forged from steel, Cubs and bears to no man kneel, Cubs and bears forged from steel, Cubs and bears to no man kneel.” It was a chant from my ship. I know not why I sang it but the cub allowed me to lay him over my shoulders. I carried him as a shepherd might carry a hurt sheep. He was not heavy. Taking my staff, I began to walk along the narrow path back to the valley of Thirl. I was now even more worried and concerned than on the journey across. If I fell now then the cub would die as well as I. I could not let that happen. I looked carefully before I put each foot down. I was actually sweating! Once I reached the main path it became easier and I talked to the cub as I walked. I told him of my family and of me. I had tired of singing the song and telling him of my family made me feel better. I told him of Sámr and Ulla War cry. I told him of Gruffyd and Ragnar. I did not know if he understood me but I wished him to know my voice. If the gods had sent him to me then there was a purpose.

  We stopped at the stream and I lowered him so that he could drink. He relieved himself. He had yet to learn to cock his leg. He was young. After giving him more venison I put him on my shoulders once more and headed down to the farm.

  Thirl’s dog began to bark as we approached the farm. Úlfarr growled. Thirl came out with his bow. His mouth fell open when he saw me and my new companion. Then he shouted, “Karl, silence!” The sheepdog lay down but his eyes never left the wolf.

  I smiled, “The gods, it seems, have not finished with me. I found this one and his dead mother high by the peak, just along from the crags. What do you call that?”

  “Until now we called it nothing.”

  I nodded, “The mother is dead and so your sheep are safe. I would call it Whelp Side.”

  “Aye, jarl. This is a wondrous tale. There is still magic in this land.”

  I nodded, “Then let us see if the magic extends to my horse. Fetch Ubba for me.” He brought my horse from the lean to. At first she was skittish and so I spoke quietly to her, “Hush, hush, this one will not harm you.” I knelt down and took the wolf from my shoulders. I said, “Thirl, will you trust your jarl?”

  “Always.”

  I took the cub and laid it in his arms. It growled. Thirl knew dogs and he began to stroke its ear. Its teeth went to his hand and then began to lick it. He smiled, “I have been salting mutton.” He shook his head, “I never thought that I would see a wolf, even one so small, lick my hand.”

  I climbed on to Ubba and, after putting my cloak over her neck, held my arms out. I laid the wolf cub across the wolf skin. Her legs were draped across both sides of my horse’s neck. “Farewell Thirl.”

  “Farewell Jarl Dragonheart. I think I will live a little while longer. There may be more wonders for me to see.”

  I retraced my steps and soon the cub was asleep. The rhythm and gait of Ubba sent him to sleep. He woke when we neared one of the tarns above the Lough Rigg. He drank and ate more of my venison. I was not certain of his strength and so, after he had squatted I put him back on my horse and headed home.

  As I approached Cyninges-tūn I heard the dogs barking. Then they went silent and I saw Kara and Aiden at the gates to my stad. Kara was smiling, “The gods work in mysterious ways father but you have made the Mother happy. You have saved one of her children and it is wyrd .”

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  It was my wife Brigid who found it hardest to come to terms with a wolf living in our home. She would have been as bad about a dog but a wolf! It was a wild creature this was despite the fact that, for the first few days, it was so emaciated that it could barely move. Uhtric gave me the solution. He was happy to share his quarters with the beast. In truth Úlfarr was remarkably gentle. As lively as a puppy he liked to be stroked and, when he could not be close to me, was happy to be curled up by Uhtric. Part of that was the scraps he was given. When Uhtric prepared a deer then the offal and the guts were given to Úlfarr. Uhtric fed him goat’s milk and he thrived. Within days we saw a difference in him. His coat became thicker and glossier; his eyes brighter. The Water was also a boon for he enjoyed swimming and became stronger as a result of his swims with me.

  I had gone to Kara and Aiden when I had descended. Aiden studied the metal wolf. “This is ancient work. Take off the one Bagsecg made for you, Jarl.”

  I did so and he laid them side by side.

  “Bagsecg does good work but this one, even though it is corroded is finer. It is made of bronze. I have seen ones such as this around Wyddfa.” He handed me back mine and went to the chest which King Mordaf ap Hopkin had left to me. The coin and the valuables were in my hall but Aiden had retained the more mystic objects and jewels as he tried to fathom their purpose. He opened it and took out a dragon necklace. It was a beautifully cast piece of metal. “This is exactly the same hand, jarl. I would say that the man who died on Úlfarrberg was a warrior who came from Om Walum.” He gave me a searching look, “He may have known your ancestor, the Warlord. This sign is a link to Om Walum and the Warlord.”

  My son had just taken a wife and she came from Om Walum. She was of the old people as the Warlord and my mother had been. That had to be the connection. “Gruffyd.”

  “Aye, that was what I was thinking.”

  My son had married the daughter of King Mordaf ap Hopkin. His wife’s father had been ill treated by the men of Wessex and Gruffyd had debated long and hard about what he ought to do about King Egbert. I had insisted that, before he take on any Saxons, Gruffyd needed warriors who would protect him in battle. He had spent the last year doing so. He and Einar had joined with Ragnar on some slave and grain raids on the northern borders of Mercia. He had seemed successful but I wondered if he was ready.

  “Gruffyd is your son and I think that you should visit with him.” Aiden held up the two objects. “This is linked to him as much as you. He married the daughter of King Mordaf ap Hopkin.”

  “The kingdom of Om Walum is too much for him to rule.” The idea of my son as a king of Om Walum seemed preposterous.

  “You were not much older when you came here.”

  “I had Ulfheonar.”

  “And how do you know that his men are not as good?”

  I gave him a sideways look. “Aiden, you have seen my men, are there any greater warriors than my Ulfheonar? I know that I was lucky. The gods chose them to help me. But you are right. It is half a year since last we saw them. The winter has been and gone. Brigid will need to see how Sámr and Ulla War Cry grow. We will go.”

  Kara put her hand on mine, “It is time we saw them too. We will all go. We will put our home in order and travel when the days begin to shorten.”

  Aiden said, “I would suggest, Jarl Dragonheart, that you wear the metal wolf around your neck. If one wolf has magical powers then think what two can do. And you have the dragon one too.”

  I nodded, “When I was young I just needed skill now I need cunning and magic.”

  “All men need those.”

  It always took longer to plan these journeys when my wife was travelling with us. We seemed to spend weeks preparing
for the visit. Brigid was delighted to be visiting her children. She spent the time preparing the clothes and the gifts she would take. She had purpose. Myfanwy was happy too. She was coming to the time when a girl becomes a woman and Astrid and Ebrel were young women with whom she had much in common. That pleased my wife. What she was less keen on was the fact that Úlfarr would be with us. “We cannot take a wild beast to be with my grandchildren!”

  “Úlfarr has lived with us for more than a moon. He has shown no signs of violence and I will take Uhtric with us.” Mollified she had acquiesced.

  For me the wolf was more than an animal. He was a symbol and he represented something from my past. The gods had sent him to me and, until I knew why, he would stay as close to me as my sword.

  Instead of the swift journey to Whale Island I normally enjoyed we went at the pace of my wife’s carts with the goods she was taking. I bit back the barbed comments I contemplated making. I could never win an argument with my wife. Instead I enjoyed the ride. We had been training my wolf. It had not been hard. Uhtric had discovered that he had a fondness for crackling, roasted pig skin, and pig’s ears. We had used them as rewards and now he was trained as well as a dog. When we travelled he stayed with us, briefly before he ranged ahead. He always returned to make sure that we were still there.

  Aiden said, “He is still a wild beast, jarl, but perhaps this is how the first dogs were trained. They were wolves that warriors somehow captured.”

  Kara said quietly, “He could be a spirit in a wolf’s body. It is not unknown and I seem to sense his thoughts. It is strange.”

  Ylva had smiled, “You are not wrong mother. I seem to know his thoughts too.” Ylva had been named after a wolf and she had an affinity to them.

  I laughed, “If you mean that he comes to you when you have a treat then that is no trick.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “Grandfather! I am not a fool!”

  I patted her hand, affectionately, “I know and it is just an old man teasing you.”

  More than half of the clan lived in the land which lay between Whale Island and Úlfarrston. Raibeart had made his town a strong one. My son had built a stone wall around his halls and the walls guarded the anchorage. We had been raided in the past and we had learned our lessons. Ragnar had created a strong stad and it could hold many people. Einar, Gruffyd and all of my other warriors each had their own hall with a ditch and a palisade but if danger came they would all flee to Ragnar’s Stad. That way they were not living on top of one another. The only child of mine who did not live close was Erika. Married to Thorghest the Lucky of Dyflin she lived there with Moon Child. We rarely saw them but messages were passed when our knarr traded. It was not perfect but it was better than nothing.

  I had sent a rider to tell my son and grandson of our arrival. We would stay with Ragnar. He and Astrid had the largest hall. As we neared it my son, grandson and a dozen of their warriors rode to greet us and escort us the last couple of thousand paces. When they saw Úlfarr, and he growled, their hands went to the swords.

  “Peace! He is gentle!”

  Gruffyd snorted, “Look at his teeth! He is a wolf!”

  Ragnar laughed, “I think the Dragonheart has a tale to tell us. The beast looks healthy enough.”

  Brigid said, “He eats us out of house and home!”

  I laughed, “He eats scraps but, I confess, he is much bigger now than when first I found him. His name is Úlfarr.”

  Gruffyd shook his head, “Not a particularly imaginative name, father.”

  Kara admonished her half-brother, “The wolf named himself. It is how our father first spoke to him and he was found by Úlfarrberg. What else would he be named?”

  My son would never argue with Kara for she was a volva. Only Ylva had powers as strong as my daughter. A warrior always kept on the right side of witches and wizards. The Norns were bad enough but to be cursed… poor Snorri had discovered that to his cost.

  As we entered the gates Ragnar said, “Aye well we have news too. We would have ridden and told you but…”

  Just then Astrid, Bronnen and Ebrel appeared in the doorway. They were all with child. My wife said, “Why did you not tell us?”

  Gruffyd shrugged, “We are now!”

  Kara smacked him on the back of the head, “Little brother, I thought that having a sensible wife would make you a better man! I was wrong.”

  Elfrida, Ragnar’s mother, stood behind them. She now lived close to her son and grandsons. She looked as happy as I had ever seen her. When her husband, my son and my grandchild had been slain by killers sent by King Egbert, I was not certain if she would find the will to live. She had managed and was now stronger for it. Astrid, Ulla War Cry and Sámr were the best thing to happen to her.

  I turned to Aiden. “It is propitious to have three children born in the same year is it not?”

  “It is and the arrival of the wolf which presaged it makes it even more momentous. All will have been born in the same year. The wolf and three children of the clan of the wolf. This will be the year of the wolf and in the Land of the Wolf that is momentous.”

  Kara looked sideways at me and said in a quiet voice, “And now, perhaps you will come out of the deep hole of despair of the last year.”

  I stared at her. I knew that she could read minds but it always came as a surprise when she did so.

  I allowed Brigid and Kara to greet the women first. Aiden and I stood patiently by. All three looked to be blooming and healthy. The three fathers would all be hoping for boys. A Viking needed sons. For myself I did not mind. Kara had proved to be stronger than any son.

  Astrid hugged me tightly, “It is good that you come. We would visit you but your grandson always has something to occupy him and he says we cannot.” I liked her. She was the warmest person I knew. A natural mother, there was nothing about her to dislike.

  “It is my fault, Astrid, I should make the time to visit. When I do not travel with Brigid, it is not a long journey.”

  She laughed, “Dragonheart! The things you say.”

  I shrugged, “I fear I have always been too honest.”

  She pecked my cheek, “And that is another reason why we love you so.”

  I sat with Ebrel. She looked content and she smiled as I held her hand, “Your father would be happy.”

  “Aye he would. He liked it here too. In those days before he died he would look at the trees. He liked the pines. He said that they reminded him of a place not far from Tintaieol where there was a stand of such trees. He liked the mountains. He said the soil here was less rocky than home. A man could put down roots here.”

  “I did not know that pines grew in Om Walum.”

  “It was said that, in times past, a warrior came from the north and he had with him a wizard. They planted the trees there to remind them of home.” She laughed, “We do not believe in wizards but my father liked the story.”

  I clutched my amulet. The past was haunting me again.

  The hall was filled with laughter and with children. Sámr and Ulla War Cry loved Úlfarr. I stayed close by. He was a wild animal. The wolf was still enough of a cub to enjoy chasing the sticks that they threw and it allowed me to be outside the hall and watch the two of them. Sámr and Ulla War Cry were no longer babies, nor even toddlers. Vikings grew quickly. Childhood was the time to prepare to become a warrior. The two of them were becoming bigger each time I saw them. Sámr was the leader but Ulla War Cry was not afraid to question his elder brother’s authority. That was good.

  When Úlfarr tired of the game I said, “Come and sit with me. I would talk with you. I do not see you often enough.”

  They came dutifully. Úlfarr, panting, sat by my feet. He looked asleep but he was not. He was watching and he was guarding. Sámr asked the same question he always asked, “Can we see the sword?”

  “Of course, but it stays in the sheath. I do not wish to risk the wrath of your mother or your grandmother. If you cut yourself I would never hear the last of it.”


  Ulla asked, “Is it sharp?”

  Sámr shook his head, “Little brother, you have much to learn! What is the point of a sword which is not sharp?” He looked up at me. “For myself I am quite happy just to touch the pommel. It was touched by the gods.”

  I nodded, “It was and one day, many years in the future, it will pass to your father and then, who knows, to you.”

  “Why would you pass it on?”

  “Because, Ulla War Cry, I am not young and one day I will die. It goes to your father for he will be the next jarl.”

  “And not your son?”

  Sámr had a sharp mind. “Your grandfather was also my son and he was older than Gruffyd. Gruffyd understands.” Even as I said it I hoped that it was true.

  They asked me about the grandfather they had never known and I told them. I missed out the parts where we had argued and fallen out. At the end we had been close and that was all that was important.

  We feasted well and, the next morning, my son and grandson took me and some of their oathsworn to the forests. We went hunting. Raibeart ap Coen came with us. He was jarl of Úlfarrston and knew the forests better than any. We took bows and boar spears. There were twenty of us and I was confident that we could deal with any animal which we met. We did not take horses, we walked. I took Úlfarr. It would be good to see how he acted in the wild. I was pleased for it gave me the opportunity to speak with Ragnar and Gruffyd.

  “The raids went well?”

  “There was little honour in them. The Mercians are not the warriors they were under Coenwulf.”

  I nodded, “You are right, Ragnar. King Egbert did that.” I looked at my son, “And your new warriors?”

  He smiled, “They are not Ulfheonar if that is what you are asking but they are keen and they are young. We can learn together. Einar Fair Face has good men too. We now have a larger number and can crew ‘Crow’ .”