The Saga of Erik the Viking

by Terry Jones

  For a moment Erik hesitated, then suddenly he drew his knife and pressed it on the throat of the ragged girl, and said, ‘What sort of a creature are you?’

  And the girl replied, ‘Would you kill a child?’

  And Erik hesitated again for he did not have it in his heart to do so terrible a deed.

  ‘But where are my men?’ he asked.

  ‘They are looking for my poor father,’ said the girl. ‘They will return with him at any moment.’ But as she spoke, Erik could feel magic humming in the air. So he pressed his knife harder to the child’s throat and said, ‘Where do you come from?’

  Then tears welled up in the little girl’s eyes and she started to cry, and Erik put down his knife, saying to himself, ‘If she were a creature of evil, surely, she could not cry like this,’ and he put his arm around the girl and felt ashamed that he had threatened her. But even as he did he could feel the magic humming louder than ever in his ears.

  The little girl cried and cried and Erik tried to comfort her. Finally she ceased sobbing and said, ‘Fetch me some water,’ and Erik ran to fetch her some water. She took the cup of water, but she did not drink it. Instead she poured it all onto the floor. And Erik watched her and wondered.

  ‘Put more sticks on the fire,’ said the girl. And Erik wondered to himself that she should order him about, and yet he said to himself, ‘The poor girl must be cold,’ and he put more sticks on the fire, and the magic hummed louder than ever in his ears.

  ‘What is your name?’ asked the girl.

  ‘I cannot remember,’ said Erik.

  ‘Good,’ said the girl, ‘then you are entirely in my power at last!’

  And Erik looked at her pale white face and he knew that he had lost his own will.

  ‘Now take up your knife again,’ said the ragged girl.

  And Erik thought to himself, ‘Would that I had listened to Thorkhild.’ But he took up his knife.

  ‘Now,’ said the ragged girl, ‘put it to your chest,’ and Erik found himself obeying.

  ‘Would that I had not sent my men away,’ he thought, ‘for this child has some unearthly power and I must do whatever she tells me,’ and he placed his own knife on his own chest.

  ‘Now,’ said the ragged girl, ‘cut out your heart and give it to me.’

  ‘I must obey her,’ said Erik to himself and he started to plunge the knife into his chest, but, before the blade had so much as pricked his skin, the ragged girl gave a cry, and Erik turned to see the smoke from the fire enveloping her.

  At that moment the door burst open, and Thorkhild plunged into the smoke, and there was a scream, and then he reappeared, dragging the body not of the little ragged girl but of a troll … a wizened creature with starting eyes and its tongue hanging out. And at that moment Erik dropped his knife and now the magic had vanished.

  ‘As soon as I saw her throwing sticks on the fire,’ said Thorkhild, ‘I knew there was something magic in that smoke – so when I went out I climbed on the roof of our hut and threw my cloak over the smoke hole so that the smoke would not blind me.’

  Then they threw the troll’s body into the snow and found Ragnar Forkbeard and his men and Sven the Strong and his men stumbling in the dark, but the smoke that had blinded them was gone too, and when they saw their comrades they embraced, and returned to the feast and vowed they would not let themselves be blinded so easily again.

  ‘And yet,’ said Erik, ‘what we did was right and just. For what if the troll had been a poor ragged child – and what if she had had a father dying in the snow?’

  And everyone shook their heads and agreed they did not know the answer, nor see how they should have acted otherwise. And I wonder too – what do you think?

  HOW ERiK AND THANGBRAND WERE TESTED

  THE WINTER WAS LONG and hard. And while the snows lay up against the walls of their hut, Erik and his men had little enough to eat, and they grew thin and sour.

  ‘When shall we ever eat again?’ they began to ask each other. ‘And what of our ship, Golden Dragon? Can she still be safe, left unattended all this long time?’

  Erik heard his men grumbling, one to another, but he said nothing.

  Then up stood one of his men who was thinner and sourer than any of the others. His name was Thangbrand. ‘Why should we put up with this any longer?’ he said. ‘Let us leave this place. Let us find Golden Dragon and set sail at once.’ And Erik’s men looked from one to the other, and then they looked at Erik. But Erik said nothing.

  ‘Come!’ said Thangbrand. ‘Let us waste no more time, for if we wait any longer we shall be dead from hunger.’

  ‘Thangbrand is right,’ said Ulf Sigfusson, and he got up and stood next to Thangbrand. Then up too got Olaf Hamundson and Gunnar Longshanks and they too stood next to Thangbrand and Ulf Sigfusson. And then another got up and joined them, and another and another, until half of Erik’s men were standing beside Thangbrand. Then they all looked at Erik and at last Erik spoke.

  ‘You know my mind already. We should stay here until the snows have gone. However, if any of you wish to follow Thangbrand, I shall not stop you.’

  Then some of Erik’s men murmured amongst themselves, and some were astonished by Erik’s words. And Thangbrand became filled with pride to think that half of Erik’s men would follow him.

  ‘But listen,’ said Erik. ‘We are small enough in numbers as it is. It would be certain death for only half of you to go. Either all of you must follow Thangbrand or none of you.’

  Then Erik’s men were even more amazed, and Thangbrand swelled even more with pride to think that all of Erik’s men might follow him.

  ‘And listen!’ said Erik. ‘You know that I and Ragnar Forkbeard alone have already made the journey between Golden Dragon and here, and we alone know the way and how fraught with danger it is. It would be certain death for you to go without us as well.’

  Then great was the amazement amongst Erik’s men, and Thangbrand puffed himself up to think that even Erik himself might follow him, and a mighty argument broke out.

  At length Erik held up his hand and said, ‘Since you must decide between Thangbrand and myself, let us prove which of us is the most worthy to be your leader.’

  Everyone agreed to this, so Erik said, ‘First let us see which of us has the strongest arm for the bow.’ So Thangbrand put an arrow into his bow, and pulled back the string till it was behind his ear. Then he let his arrow fly so fast and hard that it buried itself in the trunk of an oak tree right up to its feathers.

  But Erik said, ‘My arrow will go straight through that oak tree and come out the other side.’

  ‘That’s impossible!’ said Thangbrand.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Erik, and he pulled back his bowstring no further than his elbow and let his arrow fly straight and true.

  But he did not aim at the trunk of the tree, instead he aimed at an oak apple, hanging from a branch, and the arrow split the oak apple in two and came out the other side, and embedded itself in the oak tree behind. ‘Thangbrand has the stronger arm for the bow,’ said Erik’s men, shaking their heads, ‘but Erik is the more cunning.’

  Then Erik said, ‘Let us see which of us is the mightier swordsman.’ And he went to a tree stump and lifted his sword Blueblade high above his head, and smote the tree stump such a mighty blow that it was cleft in two right down to its roots.

  Then Thangbrand went to a boulder, and swung his sword high and wild above his head, and brought it down with a crashing blow that sent sparks and flashes of iron from his sword flying in all directions. The boulder quivered, and then split in two, and Thangbrand held his battered sword up aloft in triumph. Everyone shook their heads and agreed that Thangbrand was the mightier swordsman.

  ‘Finally,’ said Erik, ‘let us see which of us is the braver.’ And without more words he took his bare hand and held it in the flame from the fire until the hairs on his arm began to singe and curl, and then he took it out again. Then Thangbrand smiled a broad smile, and bared hi
s arm and plunged it into the fire right up to the shoulder. And he kept it there while the hairs on his arm began to curl and singe, and then his nails began to go black, and still he kept it there, and then his skin began to burn and at last he could bear it no longer, and with a mighty cry he pulled his arm from the flames, but already the fire had done its work and his arm hung limp and useless by his side, and he fell down fainting from the pain.

  Everybody shook their heads and agreed that Thangbrand was indeed a brave man. But Erik turned to them and said, ‘Yet is it possible that any of you were prepared to follow this man? He has certainly a strong arm for the bow, but he has no cunning. He may be a mighty swordsman, but now he has no sword. And what is worst of all, his foolish pride has cost him his good fighting arm. How far would you have got following such a man on such a journey none of you knew whither?

  ‘I am not your leader because I have the strongest arm for the bow, or the mightiest sword, or even the bravest heart, but because you have learned to trust my judgement, and know that even when I am wrong I speak for the good of us all and not for pride.’

  After that, all the men returned to their places. Thangbrand lay sick on his bed for many days and never fully recovered the use of his right arm and was ever after called Thangbrand One-Hand. And Erik and his men stayed safe in their camp until the snow and the winter were past.

  ERiK AND THE GREAT BiRD

  WHEN THE WINTER WAS OVER, Erik and his men set off on the long journey to find their ship, Golden Dragon. As they journeyed, Ragnar Forkbeard looked around him, ‘This is a fine country,’ he said. ‘A man could lead a good life here if he chose.’

  No sooner were the words out of his lips than a cloud came across the sun. And Erik and his men looked up to see – flying slowly through the air – the most monstrous bird that any of them had ever seen. It was black, and it was as big as six ships in full sail.

  ‘Quick!’ said Erik, and they dived behind a rock as the vast creature swooped down over them. And the tips of its wings seemed to brush the ground on either side of them, and a cloud of dust flew up and the draught of air from its wings was like a gale that threw them on their faces and left them gasping for breath.

  As it passed over them they could see it had a huge razor-sharp beak and its claws were like iron hooks, and there was not one of Erik’s band who was not filled with an unutterable fear.

  When it had gone, Erik stepped out from the rock and said, ‘Let us make haste.’

  But some of his men said, ‘No, we dare not go another inch!’

  ‘Are you mad?’ replied Erik. ‘Do you think you can spend the rest of your lives behind that rock?’ So one by one they came out, gazing fearfully up at the sky. ‘Now,’ said Erik, ‘we must keep our eyes open for that monster, and stay near cover as we travel.’

  And on they went, many of them still trembling with fear.

  At last they came to an open plain. ‘What shall we do now?’ they asked each other. ‘We must cross this plain where there is neither rock nor tree to give us shelter nor any hole to hide in. If the great bird returns while we are crossing such a place, it will snap us up as easily as worms off a plate!’

  Erik stared across the plain, and he knew that they were right. Nevertheless, he shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘We have no choice.’

  ‘Let us return to our camp,’ said some of his men. ‘At least we can be safe there.’

  ‘And live the rest of our lives in terror and hiding?’ asked Erik.

  ‘At least that is better than being eaten alive by that monster,’ they replied.

  But even as they spoke they heard a terrible noise, and on the far horizon they saw a black shape rising into the sky. Quaking with fear, Erik and his men hid once more. And if the bird had seemed gigantic before, it now seemed like a great thundercloud blotting out half the sky. And it wheeled overhead and swooped down over their hiding-place as if it knew they were there. And as it came low they could smell the strong bird-smell that clung to its talons.

  ‘If we’d been out on that plain now,’ muttered Sven the Strong, ‘we would certainly have been snapped up as easily as worms off a plate … each and every one of us!’

  ‘Caw – Caw’ screeched the bird, and its voice was like a thunderclap that made the rocks shake and the earth tremble.

  ‘I can’t hide away like a rabbit!’ cried Ragnar Forkbeard. ‘I will slay this crow!’ and before anyone could stop him, he’d leapt out of the cleft of rock in which they were hiding and aimed his bow, strong and true, and let fly an arrow that struck the creature in its claw.

  ‘CAW – CAW!’ screeched the bird, and wheeled round in the sky and swooped low over where Ragnar Forkbeard was standing, and snatched him up in its monstrous claw, and then flew off over the great plain and beyond the furthest region.

  The men were silent for some moments after this. Then Erik spoke: ‘Now we cannot go back. We must find our comrade!’

  ‘But what can we do?’ moaned some of his men.

  ‘I do not know,’ said Erik.

  ‘How can we hide from that monster, if we cross that open plain?’ they cried.

  ‘I do not know,’ said Erik, and put his head in his hands. Then Thorkhild whispered to Erik, ‘We must go!’ and together they set off across that wide open plain in the direction the great bird had taken.

  ‘It may be useless,’ said Sven the Strong, ‘but I cannot see them go alone,’ and he followed after them. One or two followed him and then more and then no one was left behind. In this manner they walked for a mile across the open plain, expecting at any moment the great monster to darken the sky once more.

  But they walked another mile and still there was no sign of the great bird. And after another mile, Thorkhild said, ‘Who knows? Perhaps we shall make it safely across the plain after all.’

  ‘Ssh!’ said Erik. ‘Look!’ He pointed, and in the distance they could just see some mountains rising out of the ground. ‘If we can make it to those mountains, we shall be safe.’ So, keeping their eyes on the sky, they quickened their pace.

  But they hadn’t gone more than a few yards before one of Erik’s men yelled out, ‘There it is again!’ And they all threw themselves to the ground but, when they looked up, they saw it was not the great bird at all – just a black cloud scudding across the sun.

  On they went once more, and eventually they reached the mountains, and found themselves beside a rocky stream. ‘We shall be safe now,’ said Erik. ‘Let us follow this stream, and perhaps it will take us to where the great bird lives, and there, perhaps, we will be able to kill it when it is asleep.’

  Without more ado, Erik put his foot in the water, but the moment he did so there was a cackle of laughter, and he looked up and saw a curious creature sitting in a tree.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Erik. ‘And what are you laughing at?’

  ‘I am the spirit of that stream you’re standing in,’ said the creature, ‘and I always laugh,’ and it opened its wide mouth and it laughed a laugh like the tinkling of water in a brook.

  Erik looked at his men, but they were talking earnestly amongst themselves.

  ‘You’re the only one that can see me!’ laughed the spirit of the stream. ‘And then, only while you’re standing in the water. What do you want with me?’

  ‘I want you to take me to where the great bird lives,’ replied Erik.

  Again the spirit of the stream opened its wide mouth and laughed a laugh like the tumbling of waterfalls. ‘There is no great bird,’ it said.

  ‘But we have seen it … twice!’ cried Erik.

  ‘Don’t believe everything you see!’ smiled the spirit of the stream.

  ‘And we have felt the wind from its wings on our faces,’ said Erik.

  ‘Don’t believe everything you feel!’ laughed the spirit of the stream.

  ‘And it has carried away our comrade, Ragnar Forkbeard!’ cried Erik.

  The spirit of the stream stopped laughing, and looked at Erik and said, ‘T
here is no great bird. It is something inside you that has taken wing, and it will continue to carry off your comrades until you find out what it is.’

  Then the spirit of the stream opened its mouth wider than ever and laughed a laugh like the breaking of oceans, and then climbed into its own mouth and disappeared. Erik sat down on the edge of the stream with his head in his hands. ‘Now I fear we shall never see Ragnar Forkbeard again … for how can that great bird be something inside me? And even it if were – how could I even begin to find out what it was?’

  Then Thorkhild knelt down beside Erik and asked, ‘What have you seen that troubles you so?’

  And Erik replied, ‘I have seen the end of our hopes. I have seen that we shall never reach Golden Dragon nor find the land where the sun goes at night.’

  ‘Erik,’ said Thorkhild, ‘you must not say such things for – even if they are true – how could we follow you, knowing you believed them?’

  ‘Thorkhild,’ replied Erik, ‘you are right.’ Then he turned to the others and said, ‘Come! Let us find our comrade, Ragnar Forkbeard,’ and they all moved on up the mountain stream.

  They climbed higher and higher, and then all at once they rounded a corner and found themselves confronted by a dark forest.

  ‘How strange,’ muttered Erik, ‘to find a forest so high up a mountainside.’ Nevertheless, he led his men straight into the gloomy depths. They hadn’t gone far, however, before they found their way blocked. In front of them the trees no longer stood upright, but lay horizontal, piled one on top of the other, up as high as the men could see.

  ‘Who has ever seen a forest like this?’ asked Sven the Strong.

  ‘We must climb up, and see what we can see,’ said Erik.

  ‘I do not like this,’ murmured more than one of Erik’s men as they climbed. ‘Who knows how this forest came to be like this?’

  But Erik told them to be quiet, and up they climbed, until at last they reached the top. And there a most extraordinary sight met their eyes: the pile of horizontal trees stretched out in a great circle, half a mile wide, in the shape of a basin.