Viking Wolf

by Griff Hosker

  The wide fiord loomed up to the east and I signalled the others to follow us. We soon found shelter from the wind and we anchored as soon as it was practicable. The small bay was on the south side of the fiord and we barely bobbed up and down it was so sheltered. Unfortunately it was not a sandy beach and we could not go ashore. We ate cold rations that night. The squall grew into a storm and we were forced to spend most of the day in the bay. The wind turned around during the day as the eye of the storm passed and as soon as it became a milder wind from the east we set sail. I led and ‘Great Serpent’ guarded the rear.

  We sailed between the northern shore and an island into another bay. It made our motion less violent and we headed north aiming to get as far as we could before dark fell. As we followed the coast west I suddenly saw lights on the hillside and, above the crack of the sails in the wind, I heard the tolling of a bell. That could only mean one thing; a holy place of the White Christ.

  “Keep your eyes peeled for a beach. There is treasure in the hills.”

  The hidden church was well placed for it was surrounded by cliffs and rocks. We would not land. As dark began to fall we passed between another small island and the headland. Then sharp eyed Ketil shouted, “Beach ahead, my lord; on the steer board side.”

  I saw it. It was less than a mile away and the white sand would enable us to find it, even in the dark. I signalled to the others to follow us and we edged our way north. Night had fallen by the time we dragged the boats ashore.

  Sigtrygg sought me out. “What have you found, Jarl Dragon Heart?”

  “What makes you think I have found anything?”

  “You would have used the island we passed if you had not.”

  I nodded, “You are right. I think there is a church above us. We will camp here and you and I will take thirty men and investigate.”

  I took the Ulfheonar and made up the rest from volunteers. Aiden came with us. His eye for treasure was worth ten warriors. There was a path from the beach. I think it must have been used to collect shellfish. Snorri headed up the slope with Arturus. Beorn had suffered a wound to his leg and we had left him in the camp.

  The wind was from the west and it brought us the sounds of the holy place before we saw it. Alarmingly it was not the sound of people. We could hear animals. There were sheep, ducks and chickens that appeared to be ahead.

  I waved Sigtrygg and his men to the left. They would be able to stop anyone leaving. The gaping gate told the story before we had even entered. They had fled. The sound of the tolling bell had not been a call to prayers but an alarm. We had been seen. I looked to the south and although it was dark I could see the breakers on the other side of the fiord. This was a well chosen site.

  Sigtrygg came through the other open gate. He held up a metal candlestick. “They have fled, Jarl Dragon Heart. We found this.”

  I shrugged, “Wyrd. No matter. Gather the animals and anything else which looks as though it might be useful.” I was a little disappointed but we had had much luck before. It was only right that we suffer a little too. The bed linens they had left were far better than the ones poorer people used and we took them. Their pots and the cooking vessels were also welcome. Even better were the jars of wine. This had been a rich church of the White Christ. I wondered what treasures they had taken with them. We had to work quickly. There might be warriors nearby and we had suffered enough lately.

  “Get everything down to the ships as fast as you can. We will follow.” Haaken came with me and Aiden as we took lighted torches to search the church. We had learned, long ago that these places often had hidden treasure.

  When we went in Aiden became excited. “This is ancient. The Romans built it. Look!” He pointed to a stone in the wall.

  There was a stone inscription in Latin:

  MATRIB TEMPL CVM ARA VEX COH I VARD INSTANTE P D V VSLM

  “What does it mean Aiden?”

  “I can only understand a little but I think TEMPL means a Roman church.”

  We all dropped to our hands and knees and took out our daggers. The Romans liked to have secret places where they could hide precious objects. It was sharp eyed Aiden who found it.

  “Here, Jarl Dragon Heart. I have found it.”

  He ran his blade around the edge of the stone which had a Roman number on it, IX. He dug out the dirt of years. It took a longer time than I wanted. Eventually he was happy. We put our three blades in the cracks and all raised them at the same time. I was not sure it would work but gradually the flagstone began to rise. It was slow work but we knew that patience would bring the reward.

  The stone popped up and we moved it. There was a damp musty smell rising from the hole. Aiden thrust the lighted torch down but could see nothing. He handed me the torch and then lay down with his arm inside the hole. He suddenly shouted, “I have something!”

  He pulled out a metal eagle. It was the size of two outstretched hands. There were the letters SPQR held between the eagle’s claws. He handed it to me and went back to his search. The bird looked to be gold and Haaken put the torch closer.”It is gold! This is a rich prize indeed!”

  It did not feel heavy enough to be gold and I took my knife and rubbed at it. The gold came off revealing base metal beneath. “Gold paint or gilding I think.”

  Aiden shouted, excitedly, “Haaken, take these.” He deposited handfuls of coins on the floor. “They must have been in a bag but it has rotted.”

  Haaken took off his helmet and scooped the Roman coins into it. By the time Aiden had finished the helmet was full.

  “We have spent long enough here. Let us go.” I handed the eagle to Aiden. “Carry this.”

  We left the building and headed for the open gate. We were the last to leave. The rest had obeyed my orders and descended to the ships almost a mile away. Suddenly I heard hooves. It meant only one thing. Horsemen! “Run, take the treasure to the ship and I will watch the rear.” We could do nothing else for Haaken’s hands were filled with the gold. They ran and I took out my sword. The hooves were still in the distance but they would soon reach the church.

  The path went steadily down but it was dark and we could not afford to hurry. I stopped and turned. I had heard something. It was voices from the church. I moved down the trail but kept looking back. My helmet covered my face and my hands had mail upon them. With my wolf cloak I was invisible. The trail turned a little and I saw the beach and the ships. The knarrs had been refloated and the men were launching the two drekar. That gave me hope.

  I looked to the church and saw horsemen appear. I knew that they could not see the ships yet. They might waste time looking around the church. Then Aiden slipped and the eagle hit a rock. The noise sounded like a bell. The horseman gave a shout and began galloping down the trail. I had to buy some time for my warriors. I help my sword in two hands and waited on the trail. I saw the horse and its rider. The white blaze on the horse and the warrior’s face showed me where they were. I swung Ragnar’s Spirit across the horse’s head. It had sensed me but the rider had not. The dying horse crashed off the trail and rolled down the slope, taking the rider with it. I swung at the other warrior and my sword bit into his leg. He tumbled to the ground screaming. I turned and ran.

  Haaken had given the alarm and my archers were already notching arrows as I reached the sand. I saw them release and then Sigtrygg and Arturus raced towards me with swords drawn. When my feet touched the water I turned and saw the line of horsemen. They had stopped near the two men who had been wounded. The Allfather had been watching over me and we boarded our ships.

  “I think we have enough treasure. Let us head home.”

  We used reefed sails to hug the coast until dawn. As dawn broke we took out the eagle. Haaken and Cnut were disappointed with it. “Perhaps Bjorn can melt it down and make a sword from it!”

  Aiden shook his head, “This is as valuable as the books of the White Christ.”

  “Who would buy it?”

  “It is Roman and they have an Emperor still. He l
ives in Miklagård.”

  “That is a long way to go in the hopes of payment.”

  Aiden shrugged, “Perhaps in Frisia…”

  My mind was already working. We would need to trade in Frisia anyway but I was curious about these Romans. I knew that I had Roman blood in me. When I had visited the cave and seen the painting it had stirred something within me. Perhaps in the land of the Romans I might see something there. I kept my counsel. There was nothing urgent to be decided.

  “Look after the eagle, Aiden. We have plenty of treasure from this voyage. We will all profit.”

  Two days later we saw the familiar mountains ahead and knew that we were almost home. The last time we had done this we had returned to disaster. Would the Norns play the same tricks again?

  This time Pasgen had no dire news to impart. Some of the weapons we had taken from the Saxons were good ones and I gave a number to Pasgen. It was important that our allies and neighbours were well protected. We borrowed carts to transport the vast amount of booty we had gained. The animals provided a noisy accompaniment. The new ship being built for Thorkell was coming along well but I would send ‘Great Serpent’ with supplies and men for my northern Jarl. Like Pasgen he had to be supported. I would wait until the new threttanessa was built first. Autumn was still some days away.

  Cyninges-tūn looked reassuringly secure. The smiling faces and warm reception bespoke a peaceful time since we had been away. Soon it would be autumn and we would need to prepare for winter. The faces of the people told me that they were not worried.

  As we travelled up the Water I examined our defences and our homes. We had more settlers arriving and we needed more homes for them. I would have my men clear more of the forest on the western shore. It would make a good place for homes. I knew that some would like to farm on the fells. Old Ragnar had always liked the high places. There was always much to think about. The life of a jarl was full.

  I had two whole days of peace when I arrived back. I was able to taste the cheese made from the milk of the new goats. Deidra and Macha watched my face keenly. It was delicious. Bjorn eulogised about the iron we had brought back and he showed me his new weapons. He was getting better. We even had some fish from the Water for we now had fishermen who had perfected a technique of trapping larger numbers. We could salt and preserve them. All was going well. I commissioned Aiden to make wolf amulets for my new Ulfheonar and we distributed the extra wealth to those who toiled at home. We all shared in the bounty although it was my warriors who gained the most. Both Aiden and Bjorn were inundated with requests for jewellery.

  The ill news came with an east wind and Windar himself. He arrived with two of his sons and they rode; a sure sign that it was not good news.

  “It is the Northumbrians my lord. They were seen coming west. By now they will be at Ulf’s Water. I have my men preparing for war.”

  “Reinforce Ulf and I will bring my warriors. But make sure your home is defended.”

  He nodded, “I am sorry, Jarl Dragon Heart.”

  “Why? This was not your doing and we knew the day would come.”

  Before he had even mounted his horse I had Scanlan sound the horn. Every warrior knew that we never used it unless it was an emergency.

  “The Northumbrians are here. Rolf, I will leave you twenty men and the rest I take with me.”

  “You think they will come here?”

  “I know not but they are cunning. This may be a diversion to draw us hence.”

  Haaken said, “We have beaten them before and we will beat them again. Will we follow Windar?”

  “No we will go by the Rye Dale and over Úlfarrberg. It is shorter and we can fall on the flanks of our enemies.”

  “It is a risk.”

  “It is not, for if they defeat Ulf and Windar we shall be able to attack their rear. It is my decision. I need all the slingers and every man who has a bow to bring it.”

  We can run if needs be, even in armour. Even though it was almost twenty miles we kept up a steady pace. We picked up five more men at the Rye Dale and then we started up the long slope to the top of the mountain. I knew we took a risk and I knew that we would be tired but it would be the one place that they would not look. I pictured it as the Northumbrians would see it. They would attack the ditch and the wooden wall and then we would descend from above them. They would have nowhere left to run. It was why I wanted so many slingers and archers. They would be able to occupy the Northumbrian’s attention long enough for us to close with them before they fled.

  Snorri and Arturus were our scouts. We had had to leave Beorn with Rolf. I could not risk the wounded. Snorri waited for us. He pointed down the slope. “We are losing men!”

  I turned and saw little huddles of men who could not keep up with us. “It doesn’t matter. The Ulfheonar will be there and some of the other warriors who are fit. Just find out where the Northumbrians are. Go, the two of you. We will be right behind you.”

  The sky was darkening as evening approached. I knew that the dark would slow us down. We did not ascend the peak, we had no need to but that meant we could not see Ulf’s home from our position below the peak. I was counting on the scouting skills of my son and Snorri. I heard Sigtrygg and Cnut urging the men on at the rear.

  “Move your legs Ulf! I could have brought women they would have moved faster!”

  “Karl, I have a wolf skin on my back with more life in it than you! Our friends are dying!”

  In truth we were moving as fast as we could. Had we all had ponies or horses then we would have already reached Ulf’s Water. That was just something else for me to ponder upon.

  The ground grew gentler and, in the distance I could heard the clash of arms and screams. The sun was setting behind us and I could see the other side of the valley and the Water itself but Ulf’s stad was hidden. My scouts appeared.

  “Jarl Dragon Heart, there is a warband of over two hundred Saxons. They are pressing against the ramparts. Ulf still holds but I fear it will not be for long.”

  “You have done well. Arturus, when the boys and archers arrive take them and keep them raining death on the Saxons. Keep them safe.”

  “But I am Ulfheonar!”

  “Then you will do as I say will you not?”

  He bit his lip and nodded. I waited until we had fifty men. “Snorri, you bring the others when they are all here. You are our reserve.” I saw that most of the boys and archers had reached us. They had no armour and it was easier for them.

  I raised my sword and led my men down the slope towards the side of the Water. There was a road of sorts. In places it had stone but it was mainly trodden earth. It merged, in places, with the shingle on the beach. We could approach in five lines of ten. The noise of battle was louder and I led my lines forward. I had ten men with spears behind my first line. They would afford us some protection.

  As we turned around a rocky outcrop I saw the battle ahead. Part of the wall had been breached. Soon we would be too late. We needed to attract their attention. I began to howl like a wolf. Suddenly it was taken up by the men who followed me. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. We moved down the slope to close with the enemy the men still howling in the darkening hills.

  I raised my sword. “Ulfheonar!”

  All fifty men shouted the same battle cry. “Ragnar’s Spirit goes to war! Charge!”

  It was my best Ulfheonar in the front rank and we ran at the same speed. We had learned to do so under Prince Butar. The ones behind picked up the rhythm and we moved as five solid lines. The Northumbrians had turned to face the threat to their rear and they ran at us.

  I held my shield at a slight angle and I protected Cnut’s left side. Ragnar’s Spirit was held high ready to strike down. It was almost dark now and we were a line of black, demonic, red eyed wolves which raced towards them. The ones in the front of our line had the same blackened mail as me. The white faces of the Saxons stood out in the fading light.

  I knew which warrior would try to kill me
. He held his spear high and was staring at me for I was the centre of the line. We closed at pace and I saw the spear as it darted at my head. I turned my head slightly and felt the spear head bite and tug at my face mask. I stabbed down with my sword and the spearman impaled himself upon it as he lunged forward. The spear fell from his lifeless hands. Our solid line rebuffed the Northumbrians who came at us individually.

  We had, perforce, slowed down and the next warriors who came at us were more cautious and they were more numerous. We struck their line. The spears from our second rank darted out to strike unguarded flesh and I swung Ragnar’s Spirit overhand to smash down on poorly made helmets. We drove deep into their lines and that proved our undoing. We were surrounded and I felt the others moving backwards as the press of warriors forced them back.

  We had done what we intended. They were no longer attacking Ulf but they had turned their attention to us. “Make a circle!” Even as I shouted it I knew that many of those in the rear would die as they attempted to make a shield ring but a circle would aid us until Snorri arrived with my reserves.

  It was Arturus and the slingers who gave us a lifeline. I heard the whoosh of arrows and the crack of slings. He and his boys were on the hillside and they were attacking the rear of the Saxons before them. It enabled us to complete the circle. We were now a ring of death. The Northumbrians attacked us relentlessly. So long as our shields held then so would we. The ones at my side were the best of the best and soon there was a wall of bodies before us but I felt pressure from the rear as those warriors were forced back.

  I shouted to the ones facing the Saxons. “Time to go forward! Now!”

  Stepping over the wall of Saxon dead I brought Ragnar’s Spirit down to sink into the shoulder and neck of the mailed warrior who faced me. I found myself in a space and I swung my sword horizontally. It connected and, in the dark, warriors screamed. One of those I had wounded was so enraged he threw himself at me. I barely had time to jab Ragnar’s Spirit forward. His impetus impaled him on my sword. I could not remove it. I was forced to drop it and grab the spear head which came from the dark at my head. I pulled and tugged it from the Northumbrian’s hand. I quickly turned it and jabbed it forward. I felt it sink into flesh and then it was torn from my grip.