by Griff Hosker
“They know our armour and they know our shields but only when the Ulfheonar are there. We will have banners made for all our leaders. Mine will be the black wolf.” I took them to the workshops and showed them the new armour. All three of us had seen it before but until Bjorn had examined it we had not looked at it closely. Arturus was as excited as I was when all the parts were inspected.
“Aiden, I took some gold from the men of Dál Riata. I would have golden wolves made for my Ulfheonar. Our meeting with Caradog has shown me the value of such things. And you must oversee the breeding of our new animals. I have asked Scanlan to manage the distribution of them.”
“Aye Jarl.”
“And what of me, father. Do I have no role to play?”
He surprised me. My young son had grown into a man and he was challenging me. “You have many skills and attributes, my son. I would have you train the young warriors.”
“The Ulfheonar?”
“No, for that is a skill that only a few, like you, can achieve. A war is coming and we know not whom we will fight but we will need many warriors. The Ulfheonar are small in number and they can win the battle. If we do not have enough warriors in the field then we will lose the battle. Train all the young warriors so that when we go to war every warrior is better than those that we face; then we shall win.”
I said the words and I meant the words but I did not know if I had convinced him. He smiled, “I will do as you wish, Jarl Dragon Heart and we shall win.”
Rolf had finished the work on the new wall. I could see that he had put much thought into it. The shape of the land meant that the new halls and huts were lower than the old walls. That in turn meant that the new walls were lower too. When he took me around the ramparts of the old walls he said, “See, Jarl Dragon Heart, if we are assailed then archers and slingers here can support those on the lower walls. If they fall then an attacker would be attacked by missiles all the way here.”
“You have done well old friend. I think the new settlers will be safe there.”
The villagers who lived within my walls were not the farmers of my land. The farmers lived well beyond my wall. Inside we had the cheese and butter makers. We had the ale wives; their husbands had fallen in battle and they lived together to brew the ale for the two villages. There were the women who worked under Kara and the two Saxons who had been nuns of the White Christ; they produced potions and healed the sick. There were the men who lived in the huts by the lower Water and fished for the food we ate all year. There were the smiths by the upper Water and finally there were the women who worked with Seara to spin the wool which they wove into garments. It was a strange mix of women who had lost husbands and the men who worked as smiths.
Whilst the rest of the land huddled indoors during winter my village was a hive of activity. The days were shorter but the workers could toil within their walls after dark. For Bjorn and his smiths the cold was welcomed for it made their forges a more tolerable place to work.
For the Ulfheonar it was a time to making warrior bands and new weapons. It was a time to train and it was a time to hunt. Each day might be short but they ranged far and wide hunting for food and being vigilant for enemies. At night they would tell their tales and sing their sagas of our battles and our lives. This winter had many new tales. The new warriors who had recently joined my ranks sat in awe as Haaken, Aiden and Sigtrygg told of Byzantium and Frisia; of pirates and sea chases; of treasure and glorious deaths.
And when I retired to my empty hall, for Arturus had now joined those single men who stayed still in the warrior hall, I tried to speak with my wife, my mother, Butar and Ragnar, but they did not speak with me. Kara divined that this troubled me and she came one evening as I sat by my fire with my horn of ale in my hand. “Father, I know what troubles you.” I looked up, not in surprise for I knew that she was a volva, but in anticipation. Kara did talk with the spirits and she would give me the answers I sought. “The spirits do not speak with you for there is nothing to tell. The wolves will not come this year. The land will not die.” She shrugged, “The Norns may yet interfere but if they do then that is wyrd. You need to heal yourself from within. No one else can do that for you. The land is at peace but you are not for you still struggle to come to terms with my mother’s death. You berate yourself for not being here for her. These dark nights are for you to make your spirit whole once again for your people will need that spirit and that strength.”
She stayed a while longer and we spoke of more inconsequential matters. After she had gone I knew that she was right. I had always been alone. When I had first collected the fish on the Dunum I had been shunned by the other children. My mother had slaved for the Saxon she called husband and I had grown up inside my own head. When I had lived with Ragnar it had been a lonely existence with a man who slept more than he spoke. When I grew I became the warrior and the leader. That was my lot in life and Kara was right. My life changed on that longest night of the year for I looked into the fire, drank my ale and thought of my life leading up to this point. When I awoke I felt better.
Kara’s predictions came true. The winter was mild. We had a smattering of snow and the Water remained ice free. The animals on the lower fells did not die and the sheep were all ready to lamb earlier than normal. Bjorn finished all of the armour. It meant my Ulfheonar would be the best protected of men. Their old mail was given to the new warriors who would now be a formidable force too. Arturus had done a fine job of training, during the short winter days, the young warriors. He had identified their skills and we now had warriors, archers and slingers. I was pleased that they all looked up to my son. I had another leader for my men. He was especially proud of the twenty or so warriors. He had taken great delight in showing them how to wield a sword, spear and defend with a shield.
The first flowers which rose from the ground told us that it was time to see to our ships and for Aiden and Scanlan to look to the new animals. I looked at my new armour. I would not need it yet but soon I would put it on and send fear into the hearts of our enemies.
‘Heart of the Dragon’ was a new ship and her timbers were sound. It did not take us long to make her seaworthy again. Erik Short Toe had spent the winter with Pasgen so that he could watch his pride and joy. He could not wait to get to sea again.
Josephus, too, had enjoyed being fussed by Kara and the women over the winter but the sea was in his blood and when we told him we were ready to sail again he looked suddenly younger. He begged to be allowed to go to sea again. The winter had been good and he was well rested. He needed to feel the wind in his face and the sea in his nostrils.
The goods we had gathered and produced during the winter were sent to the ships. The two knarrs would carry them and we would be their escort. We needed more iron now for Bjorn had used it all. That would be our priority. As the ships were being loaded I asked Aiden where we would find iron.
“We know there is some along the Dunum.”
“That is a long way to sail and the Northumbrians are our enemies.”
“There is much in Mercia and the land of Gwynedd.”
“Good then we can try there.”
Josephus said, “Jarl Dragon Heart there is another trading centre where you might find iron as well as other useful goods. I have spent the winter with your people and I know what they need.”
“Where is this place?”
“Lundenwic, where the Tamese meets the Fleot.”
“It is Saxon is it not?”
Josephus nodded, “It is a disputed port. The Mercians and the men of Wessex both claim it. The men of Essex were not strong enough to hang on to it but the people who live there carry on with their trade. They welcome all; even the likes of Rorik. He used it for he could get higher prices for the spices he stole.”
Aiden pulled one of the old maps and writings we had found in the Roman fort. “Look, Jarl, here. There are iron workings just south of it. It is likely that we will be able to find some there. And it will save us having to cross to Frankia and Frisia
. Rorik may have more ships by now.”
“I will do as you both suggest. We will visit King Selfyn when we have tried this Lundenwic. We will take a full crew though. If we are to sail into a disputed port I would not suffer at the hands of a warlord.”
Trygg and Siggi, the captains of the two knarrs had both heard of the port. “Josephus is right. It is a good port but I am glad that you take your warriors for there are many cut throats down there.”
“You have sailed up the river?”
“No, Jarl but we have spoken with other captains who have.”
“Load your ships and we will sail tomorrow.”
Rolf had journeyed with us. “Take charge of the settlement Rolf.”
He laughed, “I will watch over it, Jarl but your daughter makes all the decisions these days.”
“Does that offend you, old friend?”
“No Jarl. She does not interfere with the defences and it is poor Scanlan who has to suffer the sharp edge of her tongue.”
“Make sure that Thorkell and Windar know that we will be away. They will need to keep a close watch on our borders.” I regretted not being able to take ‘Great Serpent’ too but Thorkell would need that drekar to guard our northern frontier. The shipwright, Bolli would be building me a new one while we were away. Two drekar would make us too large a morsel for pirates such as Rorik.
Every bench was filled as we left Úlfarrston. Pasgen had sent his two ships with us to trade too. I knew that it would be slow; the four knarr were not the fastest of ships. We had enough warriors to put six on each of the ships as well as four boys. The sixteen boys had all been trained by Arturus and were fine archers.
Erik had grown over the winter. He had spent many hours going over the whole of the ship and he knew it as well as his own hand. Josephus was able to doze his way south with just a few questions from Erik. Erik had two assistants: Kurt and Karl. Both were agile and lacked the frame to be warriors. Like Erik they longed for a life at sea. They could become captains, eventually, like Erik Short Toe. I had plans to increase our trade and that meant more ships.
We were always wary when we sailed close to the island of Mann. Our former friends now shunned us and we had been attacked before now. My wife’s brother, Erik was jarl there but he was no longer my friend. We passed that and Cymru safely. When we sailed through the islands at the end of the world I could not help looking for the cave of the witch. No smoke came from the island and I wondered if she lived still. Perhaps she had been a spirit sent from the Otherworld.
After many days at sea we began to edge around the headland which would take us into the land controlled by the kings of Wessex. We had heard that they still had a king of Sussex but we were now passing through a land of dispute and war. We wore mail and hung our shields from our ship. We were prepared for trade but we were ready for war.
The river appeared as wide as the Rinaz. That suited us for we had room to move if danger threatened. We sailed at the rear of our small fleet as the oars could take us quickly towards any danger. We saw many ships. Most were like our knarr and were small. We saw one Saxon warship but it only sported ten oars on each side. It sailed away when we entered the main channel. There were many settlements along the side of the river and all looked to have protection in the form of wooden walls.
Josephus took the steering board for he knew these waters better than any. His rheumy eyes looked a little sharper these days. He was back in his element. “Erik, there is a Roman Fort called Lundenburh and beyond it is the port. Have Karl and Kurt keep a sharp look out.”
“Aye, master.”
The river narrowed somewhat and began to twist and turn with large loops. There were settlements at each loop. I had never seen so many villages and small towns before. It was no wonder there was a dispute going on here. This was land worth fighting over. We would need to be wary for we had already fought for King Selfyn against Coenwulf of Mercia. He would remember me.
“Captain! I see the fort and the anchorage!”
“Cnut, take up the stroke we will be the first to land in case there is trouble.”
My rowers powered through the water and soon overtook the four tubby knarrs. I saw men fleeing from the jetty as we approached and the ramparts of the Roman fort filled with armed Saxons. I saw people crowding to get in through the gate. They knew little of our ways. Had we come to raid we would have come before dawn and silently. The first they would have known would have been when we appeared with bloodied weapons in our hands.
There was little room at the stone jetty; it was filled with ships and, as I ordered the oars up I decided to go in prow first. “Erik, turn to steer board. Kurt, be ready to land and tie us up.” Karl and my men had the sail down in a matter of moments and we bumped gently against the ancient stone wall. When we were tied up I turned to the crews of the knarr and shouted, “Stay in the middle of the river until we have found someone to speak with!” The four captains waved their acknowledgement.
I left my helmet and my shield on the ship. I was not going for war. “Aiden and Haaken, come with me. Cnut, command in my absence.” I did not need to warn him about his belligerence. He had learned his lesson. My feet and legs were a little unsteady after so many days at sea. I looked around the huts and buildings as I steadied myself. I could see that they still had a couple of stone buildings. They were obviously from the times of the Romans. The people we had seen fleeing had run to the fort but the gates were closed and they milled around outside fearfully.
As we walked towards the fort Haaken said, “If they run from three men armed with swords alone what would they do if the whole war band landed?” I laughed. He was right.
I stopped two hundred paces from the fort. Aiden shouted, urgently, “Jarl beware, an arrow!”
I saw that someone from within the fort had loosed an arrow. I watched it as it began to arc to earth. I took one step to my left and it plunged into the ground just behind me. I leaned down to pick it up. It was a hunting arrow. I shouted, “Is this the way you greet peaceful traders? We had heard that Lundenwic welcomed all traders.”
One of the men who had been milling around the gate trying to gain entry walked towards us. “When the Vikings come we have learned to run.”
“We come in peace.” I spread my arms. “We would trade. I am Jarl Dragon Heart of Cyninges-tūn. Who commands here?”
The man walked up to us and a few of his fellows followed. He gestured towards the hall with his thumb. “Osric of Teobernan. He is the hero who hides behind the walls of Lundenburh.” He held out his hand. “I am Wiglaf of Fleta. I am a merchant and if you come to trade then I am the man you need to speak to for I can get hold of almost anything you might wish for.” He put his arm around my back to guide me back to the river. I saw Haaken’s look of annoyance but I gave a slight shake of the head. I was not offended. I had seen men like Wiglaf in every port we had entered. They were the ones who knew their way around. He was similar in many ways to Rorik. I just hoped he was less treacherous. Time alone would tell. “I have some ale we can try while you tell me of your needs.”
The crowd behind decided that we were not a threat and they followed us back. Wiglaf saw the knarr. “They are yours?”
“We protect them and they hold the goods we would trade.”
He could see that they were low in the water which suggested they were heavily laden. He rubbed his hands together. “I hope we can do some good business, Jarl.” He led the three of us into a stone building. It looked Roman but I had never seen one quite like it. Two slaves appeared from a back room looking fearfully at us. “Get some ale and four horns and be quick!” He gestured towards some seats. “Now what is it that you have to trade?”
“Not so fast, Wiglaf of Fleta. First I need to know if I have come to the right place. Do you have iron ore for trade?”
He frowned. “Iron ore? You mean swords and metal?”
“No I mean the raw iron.”
“I can get you swords; the best in the land.�
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I took out Ragnar’s Spirit. “As good as this one?”
He shook his head as he looked at it. I heard the awe in his voice, “No! Is it Frankish?”
“It was made by my smith and I ask you again, can you get us iron ore or should we go to the lands of the Cymri? I know that I can get some there but I had heard that the iron of Kent was of the highest quality. Perhaps you are not the man I need to speak with.”
The ale arrived and he hurriedly went on, “Of course I am the right man. Let us drink a toast to our new friendship!” He was getting more like Rorik with every word he spoke and look he gave. “I can get iron ore but it will take a few days.”
I drank some of the ale which was poor. “We have time for good iron. I hope that it is of better quality than this piss which you serve in place of ale.”
“Your pardon, Jarl, it is the slaves. They have brought the wrong ale. Of course the iron will be of the best now tell me, what do you trade for it?”
I stood, “If you can find us some berths then I will show you and we will give you a horn of ale which tastes of something.”
I saw Haaken and Aiden laugh as we left the building. The jetty had now filled up with the Saxons who had fled at our arrival. They parted as we headed back towards my ship. Wiglaf pointed to two men, “Move your ships so that the jarl can moor his knarr closer to the market!” They looked as though they might argue but then thought better of it. Rorik came to mind. I would watch this Wiglaf. I watched him as he stood on the jetty. He was younger than I was which was suspicious. His clothes were of the best quality and his fingers were adorned with rings. His short sword showed that he was no warrior. He was a merchant, as he had said. A voice in my head asked me, what kind?
We waited while the two captains got their crews to warp their ships upstream. There was a continuation of the jetty there but it was made of wood.
I waved my knarr over. I watched as they were sculled towards us with oars. Behind me I heard a voice, “Who gave you permission to land!”
I turned and saw a tall man with eight armed warriors behind him. I looked at Wiglaf who rolled his eyes heavenward and said, “This is Thegn Osric of Teobernan.” He shook his head as though the man was not worth speaking with, “Thegn this is Jarl Dragon Heart of Cyninges-tūn. He is here to trade.”
