B01N5EQ4R1 EBOK

by Unknown

  “Come we will make you comfortable. All of our warriors know that if we had not met you then we would have nothing. My brother may make light of it but we know that it was your advice which directed us here.”

  I liked Folki. He was not as brash as his brother and he seemed, somehow, more genuine. “Thank you. We will shed our mail and join you in the hall.”

  While Gilles took the horses to the stable we went to the warrior hall and took off our mail. The hall was unfinished. It had a roof and a floor. It had a fire but the things which would make it a home for the warriors were missing. They would come. I found a bowl of water and I washed. I took my comb and combed my hair and beard. Mary had instilled in me the need to be clean and to be presentable. I did my best.

  We had enjoyed three goblets of wine by the time Fótr returned. As Folki told me, they had no ale wives and it was easier to steal wine from the Franks. The wine was pleasant. “Our men grow used to it but you need to drink less of it than ale.”

  I nodded, “Aye, our old men prefer it for it means they have to pee less in the night!”

  The door to the hall opened as the raiders returned. Fótr saw us and rushed to embrace me. “Jarl it is good that you are here! What success we have had this day! We have many slaves and grain! We will eat well this winter! When my new men arrive, who knows what we might not do!”

  “I am pleased. When you have time, I would speak with you.”

  “Of course. We will eat well this night for we killed some of the sheep. It was easier than herding them. We will feast and sing songs of our victory this night.” I heard screams and squeals from the far side of the hall. I guessed that his warriors just took their women. It was not the way of my clan but who was I to judge?

  The young warriors whom Fótr led were full of their recent success. I did not blame them. They had done well and they celebrated. They reminded me of many who were in my clan. I remembered when we had been a young clan on Raven Wing Island. That seemed a lifetime ago. I sat next to Fótr. He recounted, many times, the events of his raid. He was becoming more garrulous as the wine took hold. I did not mind. He had done well and was entitled to be proud of what he had done. As the rest of his warriors fell into a drunken stupor he and Folki took me to one side where we could speak. Gilles and Bertrand stayed close by us.

  “Well jarl, what do you wish to ask us?”

  “Our clans, it seems, have annoyed the Franks. I fear there will be retribution.”

  “We are not afraid of the Franks.”

  Folki had had less to drink and he shook his head, “Brother, listen to the jarl. He has survived here longer than we have.”

  “I know but so far I have seen nothing which might worry me.”

  “What I wish, Fótr, is for us to be able to go to the aid of the other if danger threatens.”

  “Jarl, I have plans already which will make that unnecessary! When the new grass comes, I will attack Caen! If we can capture that stronghold, then the whole of the Orne valley will be ours!”

  “It is a stronghold which would defy many more men than we have.”

  “We have made much coin. I have sent a drekar to Dyflin for more warriors. We will spend the winter gathering tribute, grain and weapons. When the new grass comes then we will attack Caen. Are you with me?”

  “There are enemies closer to my home. The garrison at Valauna would devastate my home if I left to join you at Caen. First, I will reduce Valauna and then I will join you. I hoped that you would take Valauna with me.”

  “Aim higher jarl! You once did. Your Valauna is a hovel compared with Caen. If we took Caen, then Valauna would fall anyway! Do not doubt yourself.” He closed his eyes. “This may suit my plans. Reduce Valauna for it will draw the men of Caen to aid the garrison there. Then we can go together to defeat the men of Caen.”

  I saw the doubt in his brother’s eyes but he said nothing. I smiled. Fótr was drunk and his ideas were dreams. We had nowhere near enough men to take Caen. That would take a concerted effort. It would need more drekar crews than we could muster. We would first have to weaken it by laying waste to the lands around it.

  Folki and I carried his brother to bed. “He has good ideas, jarl and the men follow him. We have a chance.”

  “I saw it in your eyes Folki. You do not truly believe that you can succeed.”

  He shrugged, “I have seen the walls and they look like they would bleed an army to death but who knows. Last year we were picking up crumbs from the coast of the Angles. Now we have our own land and a stronghold which will defy our enemies. Many men now wear mail and we have good swords. Perhaps Fótr is right. The Dragonheart took land from the Saxons with fewer men.”

  I did not believe that was true but I could not gainsay it. “Perhaps but Jarl Dragonheart had the Ulfheonar. I wish you well.”

  After promising to send the swords by knarr we left the next morning. I had hoped for an alliance which would allow us to fight with allies. I saw now that was not going to happen. We would have to rely upon ourselves. I would have to rethink my strategy.

  I could tell that Bertrand and Gilles were unhappy about passing by the hut of the dead monk again and so we headed inland, travelling a longer route but one which would show us more of our land. I found that parts of it were boggier and less fertile. We saw fewer farms the further we went from the coast. We sheltered, that night, in a wood. We cut small branches and bushes to make a shelter for the sky still threatened rain. We were, however, spared a dousing. In fact, it was a warm muggy night which made us rise earlier than expected. We left before dawn. We rode quickly and the cool air helped.

  When we reached Rurik’s farm it was early afternoon. As we had ridden our mounts hard we rested them while I told the two of them what we had learned.

  “So, we get no help from Fótr?”

  “No but I have travelled the road. Fótr is further from us than I had thought. We will just have to be wary and do as I originally planned.”

  “Wait?”

  “Aye Finni. And I believe that they will be waiting for us to attack them too. This will be a test of nerves of both of our people.”

  “Alain of Auxerre has visited each day. He has ventured into the woods to look for signs of the Franks.”

  “He is a good man. I am pleased he joined us.”

  Even as we had headed home the skies had begun to clear. The breeze came from the north and was cooler, clearing away the heavy air which had oppressed us for most of our journey. Perhaps it was a sign; I knew not.

  Alain was still on patrol and our knarr had not returned from its voyage. After greeting Mary I went to speak with Bagsecg. “How go the weapons for the clan of the Flying Fox?”

  “They are ready. I finished the last of them today.” He gestured at the pile of polished weapons. “They are good swords but Fótr paid well. Will they be used well?”

  “He is an honest warrior. He has enthusiasm and he has ambition. He has listened to what we have told him and he now seems better placed to hold on to his new home. I believe that they will be used well.”

  Bagsecg laughed, “I think I know you well enough now, jarl, to hear the but in your words.”

  I nodded, “You are right. The but is that he has ambitions which are a little too high. He would take on a Frankish stronghold. Rather than wait until he is stronger he thinks to take it now. It would be like casting grain onto a field while the pigeons are roosting. Most would be wasted.”

  “Then perhaps my swords might keep more of his men alive. These will not bend.”

  I nodded, “And you Bagsecg Bagsecgson, are you happy about young Gilles’ offer of marriage?”

  His head bowed, “I confess that I was a little hasty in my response. I answered with less civility than he deserved. When I told Anya, she made my ears burn for days. She said that Gilles is a fine young man and that my little one has chosen him. She is right. It is just that if she marries she leaves and she is my only daughter.”

  “It is not as thoug
h she will be travelling far. Gilles has not spoken to me of it but I am certain he will build a home close to mine and the stables. That will make her as close to you as she is now.”

  He smiled, “You are right!” He went to the rear of his workshop. He unwrapped a hessian sack, “And here is the new helmet you ordered. I would have had it finished long ago but I needed to make the herkumbl on the front. I used some of the gold you gave me to pick out the detail on the horse.”

  I took the helmet. It was well made and the horse on the nasal would give added protection whilst telling the world who I was. “Thank you, Bagsecg. I think my old helmet has seen better days. There was a time when I thought it was the equal of my sword.”

  “Aye time passes. Your sword will never age. My father made two swords of which he was truly proud. One is Ragnar’s Spirit and the other is heart of Ice. I am still learning. One day I will make a sword of which I am proud. Perhaps by the time your son is grown I will have the skills my father has.”

  As I left him I wondered if I would change when Ragnvald became older. I knew how I was now but what would happen when I was older? I had been denied a father for almost my whole life and my mother for half of my life. I had no experience of the problems my son might have growing up in a home. I had grown up a slave. Would I cling on to my son?

  Alain rode in after dusk. He and his men were weary. He threw himself from his horse. “Lord, it is good that you come. The men of Valauna have stirred. We rode close to their walls this day. There was much coming and going through the gates. We heard the sound of metal being beaten.”

  “You think war?”

  “I think that something is going on.”

  “Then tomorrow I will ride with you.”

  When we rode, we rode mailed. I rode Night Star. I tried to ride my three best horses equally. Dream Strider had had a hard five days’ riding and Night Star was a good horse should this come to combat. I wore my new helmet which had a more open face and a nasal. If we were scouting it would be better. My other was the one I would use when I was behind a shield wall. This was my horseman helmet. Riding a horse and seeking an enemy needed something which gave me a better vision. As we rode I noticed that Alain and the Franks had finally finished their shields. They all had the sign of the horse upon them but they had varied the colouring of each one. It was well done. With their dark blue cloaks and white crosses, they looked like a bodyguard now.

  “Did you get close to the walls?”

  “We found a copse some fifty paces from the gates. I left my horse in the main wood and crawled closer.”

  “Then I will join you today. If we can I would take a prisoner.”

  Leaving our horses with the others the two of us made our way to the copse. The road looked to be empty and we reached the handful of trees without having to crawl too far. The gate was open and there looked to be just two men on guard at the gates. No one entered and no one left. I knew we had to be patient and we waited until the late afternoon. When people did emerge, it was in larger numbers than I had expected. More than that there were some well-dressed men with their women amongst the party. The pale blue coated horsemen formed the rear-guard as they left. I stiffened when I recognised the banner and the tunics of the column of men who rode through the gates last. It was Hugo of Ċiriċeburh. I saw Alain’s knuckles whiten as he gripped the branch which lay before him. His former lord headed north. Smaller groups of riders came from the gates and headed south. After a short time, the gates closed.

  We rose and headed back to our horses. We did not speak until we reached an anxious Gilles and Bertrand, waiting with the rest of the men. “We thought something had happened, lord.”

  “Something has but I know not what.”

  “Perhaps it was a council of war, lord?”

  “I do not think it was. Some of those who left were not warriors. Only half of those we saw leave had horses and there were women amongst the numbers. We need to find a prisoner to question.”

  My captain of horse pointed north, “If we rode hard we could catch Hugo of Ċiriċeburh. We know where he goes. He had just a dozen or so men with him. He will run.”

  I knew that vengeance was in Alain’s heart when he spoke but he was right. “Very well. We try to catch one of them.” I turned to the men, “We need a prisoner to question!”

  Alain’s patrols had allowed him to become very familiar with the land. There were ancient greenways and trails and we took them. The result was that we caught up with the Frankish horsemen ten miles from his home. I was riding a horse which was better than any. I began to extend my lead. Only Gilles, riding Freya, could keep up with me. The distance between ourselves and the last warriors in the column shortened. I saw the two rearmost riders glance over their shoulders. Terror filled their faces. A column of mailed warriors whom you know are killers will make you panic and the last two riders were panicking. A horse responds to a rider. These two were not concentrating on the horses. They shouted the alarm and the rest of the column began to gallop even faster. The mounts of the last two slowed as they turned to see how close we were and we caught them even faster. I guessed that they were either young or inexperienced or both.

  I did not draw my sword for I needed a prisoner. I urged Night Star to race even faster. The warrior at the rear made the mistake of trying to draw his sword as he rode. It must have snagged on his belt or his saddle for his horses suddenly slowed as his grip on the reins loosened. In two strides I was next to him and I grabbed his left arm and jerked him from the saddle. He fell, heavily and awkwardly to the ground. I rode after the other rider who lagged behind. He had managed to get his sword out. The problem he had was that I could choose which side I approached him. I chose his left. He could still swing his sword around but he would not find it easy to hit me. I drew my seax. It was a shorter weapon but easier to use on horseback.

  I drew inexorably closer to the rear of his horse and his head swivelled as he tried to work out from which direction I would come. I dug my heels into Night Star and he leapt forward. As I came abreast of the Frank he swung his sword at my head. I easily blocked it with my seax and, as he drew back his hand for another blow, I slashed my seax down his left arm. It tore it open and ripped into the tendons. His hand dropped the reins and his swing with the sword made him fall to the other side. I grabbed the trailing reins and brought both of our horses to a halt. The other Franks were now a hundred paces away. There was little point in exhausting horses. We had done what I intended. We had two prisoners.

  When I reached the warrior whose arm I had cut I saw a pool of blood already. I jumped down and handed the reins of both horses to Gilles. I tore part of his tunic and tied it tightly above the wound to stem the bleeding. I said, “What were you doing in Valauna?”

  He looked at me as though I had spoken Greek. “What?”

  “You and Hugo of Ċiriċeburh were in Valauna. Others were too. What was the reason.”

  He winced as pain coursed through his body, “A funeral. The Seneschal is dead and his son is the new Seneschal. We were there to bury him.”

  I was both relieved and anxious. There was no immediate danger but the son now had no one to curb his belligerence. There would be retribution. He would blame me for his father’s death.

  Alain rode up leading the horse of the other rider. He shook his head. “He is dead, lord. The fall killed him. What do we do with this one? Should I slit his throat?”

  I saw that the Frank was younger than even Gilles. I shook my head, “Bring him back with us.”

  “But he will be of no use as a slave! Better to end his life now.”

  “No, Alain, we will take him back with us.”

  I still do not know why I made that decision. All that I knew was that I could not see his life ended because we did not know what to do with him. We took him to the priest who lived in the church on our island. I did not think the Frank would be happy to have the women who were our healers treating his wound. A Frankish priest would be mo
re acceptable. Leaving Gilles and Bertrand to watch him I rode to my hall. “Alain, send a rider to warn Rurik that there is a new Seneschal and he may well attack without warning.”

  “Aye lord.”

  I changed from my mail and went to take out the map I had of my land. It was not a detailed map, as yet, but I could add to it. I was busily adding the details when Mary appeared at my shoulder. “Your son wonders what you are doing?”

  I smiled at him. He was still shy of me. I knew not the reason but I just spoke to him gently when I did speak, “I make a map for I fear our enemies come again soon.”

  Mary looked alarmed, “How do you know?”

  “Jean of Caen died and his son now commands. I fear that he is reckless. We will prepare.”

  A short while later one of the slaves said, “Jarl, Master Gilles waits without.”

  I went to the door. I saw that they had the Frank I had wounded on a litter. “The priest says he must lose the arm at the elbow or he will die. The flesh is dead.”

  Alain of Auxerre said, “I told you we should have ended his life.”

  Mary and Ragnvald were at the door and she scowled at Alain. “And you call yourself a Christian! These pagans have more Christianity than you do!” He quailed before her ire. She knelt and looked at the arm. The Frank was either asleep or unconscious and unaware of the debate about his fate. Mary looked at the wound. “I think the priest may be right.”

  I nodded, “Then we must take his arm. Fetch him to Bagsecg’s forge. The fire there is hot and he has the sharpest of weapons.”

  Gilles said, “The priest gave him a draught to make him sleep and to dull the pain.”

  “Then we have a chance.” A crowd followed us as we carried the wounded man to the forge. “Bagsecg, we need to take this man’s arm above the elbow. It must be a single blow and then we must seal the wound with fire. Have you an axe sharp enough to take it in one blow?”

  “You insult me, jarl! Of course, I have.” He turned to his son, “Put more air into the fire. I want it white hot.” He took an axe and put an edge on it. When he was happy he placed the blade in the fire. “Hopefully this will help to seal the wound when I strike. Gilles, hold the limb out away from the litter. Jarl, if you take a brand then when the arm is gone you can seal it.”