by Griff Hosker
I held the blade and felt the edge. He was right, it was not sharp and needed to be sharpened. “Thank you, father, I now have a fine dagger, a good knife and a sword. When next we sail, I will feel more like a warrior.”
Arne had been given a Pictish dagger and he took out a whetstone to sharpen it. As he did so he asked, “When will we sail again?”
“We need pine and that means either trading with someone from the Baltic or sailing to Norway and taking some. This is the time of the winter storms. This is the time when ships which sail do not return. We have enough wood to finish the drekar and that will take until the new grass. The deck, the mast, the yard and the oars can wait.”
Once the days lengthened, at the end of Mörsugur, my father returned to the drekar where the tasks required just one man and Arne and I began to train as warriors. Part of that was building up our arms. Arne was older than I was and had grown more than I over winter. I was growing too. We had our progress marked on the wall of our long house. I was as tall as Arne had been at the same age. I would be as big as he was. It was a spur to me. We used the adze and axe to finish off timber for my father to fit to the drekar. He gave us two hunks of offcuts to carve into wooden swords. None of us had enough confidence in the Pict and Walhaz swords. We had to use the wooden ones for practise. I had been desperate to make a shield but my father told me to wait until we could get willow. We had two small Pictish ones we could use in the meantime. Every moment of every short day was spent in working either with wood or with weapons. Arne and I were evenly matched for although he had the strength and height, I had cunning. I had the little flick to the knee. I had the foot hooked behind him. He won. I won. We both won for we were getting better and we knew the way that the other fought. When we stood in a shield wall that could only help.
My uncle came over to visit with us at the start of Þorri. They had yet to divide the coins that they had acquired in the raid on the Walhaz. I had few coins. They were meaningless to me. There was nowhere to spend them. The largest place on the island, Westness, had no market. The hersir who lived there, Sigurd, was now a greybeard. He did not go to war. His sons had left the island and never returned. Westness seemed to be a place filled with the old. He brought Helga, my cousin, over. Siggi stayed with his mother. My mother was almost due to give birth. Normally Gytha would have been there to help but she was also large with child. Helga would stay with us until the babe was born and then go back to her own mother. Helga got on well with my mother. I think my mother enjoyed the company of another female.
Arne and I sat with my uncle and father as they stacked the coins. The designs of them were different. Some were from the Walhaz and some from the Picts but most were Saxon or Norse. The two brothers stacked the coins so that they could count them. There were far more than I expected.
“Are we rich?”
My father laughed, “It looks to be a great deal of silver but it will soon go. The sail for the snekke was woven by your mother and aunt but we do not have enough wool for a drekar’s sail. The seal oil we rendered will make it stronger and weather resistant but we need more rope too. If we are to sail a drekar any distance then we will need a spare sail. We need a spare yard and a spare mast. If we had more men we could sail to Norway and simply take the wood we need but I fear that we will have to trade. That means coin. He handed coins to me, Arne and Siggi. I clutched them tightly for they were the first coins I had earned.
Uncle Snorri tapped Arne’s sword, “And the three of you will need a better sword. For that we need a weaponsmith. That means going to the jarl’s stad. The weaponsmith works for him and it will not be cheap.” He glanced at my father. My father shrugged.
When you are young, adults assume that you do not understand silences and looks. Arne and I did. We often spoke about them. We knew that my father and the jarl did not get on. We had learned that on the raid. The men of Hrólfsey who sailed on the drekar had all kept close to my father. When they had returned from the raid they had been as one. They rowed on chests which were close to each other yet my father was not even a hersir. Even the jarl’s words to me had suggested animosity. The jarl needed my father as a warrior and a leader but my father needed the jarl for his ship. When our drekar was built then my father would not need the jarl. It was as though that thought process generated an idea for I suddenly blurted out, “When we have a drekar will we leave this island?”
My uncle’s hand went to his hammer of Thor. “Are you galdramenn?”
My father said, irritably, “Snorri, the boy guesses! He is clever!” He nodded, “We may do. But you can say nothing to any of this. There are lands which have more to offer than Hrólfsey.”
“Aye the Land of the Wolf is one.”
My father shook his head, “No for that land is ruled by the wolf witch. It is said that she has woven spells with the Norns and I would not risk falling foul of her. There are other lands. Just south of there is good land with forests close by. The Mercians used to hold it but now, thanks to the raids from Mann and the Warriors of the Wolf, it has Vikings there.”
“Are they not a danger to us, father?”
“No Arne. I might fear a witch but there is not a warrior alive that can best me.” He ruffled my hair, “At least not yet. Now when you two grow…” My uncle left when the coins had been counted and shared.
My brother, Fótr, was born after a day long labour. We were not allowed near to the birth. That was considered bad luck. Helga was the one who stayed with my mother. We heard the screams and cries as we waited outside. The cold wind from the east chilled us to the bones but I wondered if the chill in Helga’s heart was that she would have to endure this to have a child. She came out and was as bloody as a warrior after a battle. She smiled, “Uncle, you have a son. He has the right number of hands, fingers, toes, feet, eyes and ears. He is healthy and he screams for milk!”
We were just relieved that it was a boy and healthy. I knew that my mother yearned for a girl but the Norns had spun. Edmund seemed to be as excited as we were about the birth. After Helga had left to return to her mother, I caught the old Saxon speaking with my mother. I saw him dip his finger in water and make a sign on Fótr’s forehead. I did not understand it. My mother saw me and waved me over as Edmund guiltily slipped out of the room.
“Come Erik, see your brother.” I went to look at the little red and to be honest, ugly little bundle. Mother saw my frown and laughed, “You looked like this once. Do not worry he will grow and become as you.” The babe’s mouth opened and closed and my mother began to feed him. “You were the special one, Erik. You were born on the longest day. Gytha was before the door which faced west and when you were born, she moved and a light from the west shone on you and lit your face. You were a golden child. That was God smiling on you. He has great things planned for you.”
I frowned, “The Allfather, Odin?”
She squeezed my hand. “It is the same one. We choose different names for him, that is all.”
“But what of the White Christ? The one with the cross?” I pointed to the metal cross she wore about her neck.
“Does not Odin have a son and do you not wear his sign about your neck too?”
“Then Thor is the White Christ?”
She clutched her cross and said, “I did not say that. You are young but you are clever. When you next sail and you keep watch think on these things. Make up your own mind and when this one grows then you must protect him. Swear on your hammer that you will.” I did as she asked. I would have done so without her urging. We were a clan, albeit a tiny one, but we would grow.
Seven days later and Siggi had a brother. Tostig was born. He was a little underweight and the women worried about him. My mother took my new brother to offer her help and so we had a house of men. I had been busy in the winter carving the bone from the grey seals we had hunted. I was proudest of my fish hooks. I was determined to catch more than any other ship’s boy. My comb had taken longer. The sea tangled my hair and I had discovered
that a daily combing made it easier to stop the tangling. I had used my father’s before. Now I had my own. I had made some needles. They varied from smaller ones to repair my kirtle up to bodkins to sew seal skin. I now had seal skin boots as did Arne. When we climbed the rigging, we would not wear them and when we waded in the water, we would be barefoot. The boots made us feel more like a warrior. The sealskin cape would be our most useful tool. It would keep us dry and we could use it to make our prow shelter even cosier.
My mother had been home for ten days and it was Einmánuður. We were considering sailing to find more timber when a messenger arrived from Jarl Eystein Rognvaldson. We were summoned to his stad on Orkneyjar for a Thing. I knew that my father did not like being summoned but we had to go. We loaded the snekke and set sail. I did not mind for it meant we might be able to buy things. His stad had a market and we had coin. We had taken it from the men of Walhaz. They were few in number but most boys our age had none. Arne and I were already spending the coin as we tacked and sailed around the island to Orkneyjar. My father brooded and that was not good. Uncle Snorri tried to banter him out of his mood but he was having none of it. Having the skeleton of a drekar he wanted it finished. He only brightened when Snorri said, “There will be pine tar we can buy. When we shear the sheep, we will have wool. We can seal the hull.” That took the scowl away but I knew that beneath the surface he was angry. One day I would discover why he and the jarl did not get on.
There were knarr and snekke in Hamnavoe. The jarl’s stad was on the south of the island but he had a good anchorage. It was safe and ships could land in any season. I saw men working on his drekar. There was also a much larger drekar with twenty oars on each side tied up. There were visitors. Snorri said, “That is a Norse ship. I recognise the pennant. The sign of red dragon comes from Oseberg.”
As we tied up next to another two snekke my father said, “Keep silent and listen. Erik if Karl the Lame is here, I want no provocation.”
I squirmed under his fierce gaze, “Aye father. Do we carry our swords and daggers?”
He smiled, “Is Rædwulf’s dagger in your boot?”
I smiled. I had anticipated that Karl might be here and I had hidden it in my boot. I nodded, “It is hidden.”
“Then you may carry your swords but do not unsheathe them unless I tell you.”
We climbed across the two snekke and up the wall to the stad. There was a gate and two warriors lounged there. I recognise them as hearth weru. They grinned when they saw Arne, Siggi and me, “You boys have grown! They feed you well on Hrólfsey.”
Arne said, “It is a good island and we eat well.” My father nodded his approval. Arne had said the right thing.
The jarl’s hall was full already. There were almost a hundred and twenty warriors there. They milled around. Many had horns of ale. My father’s friends all cheered when we entered and we walked over to them. Thralls brought ale and we held out our horns to have them filled.
“What is this about?”
Asbjorn Blue Eyes shrugged, “We think the jarl plans a raid or a war, Lars.”
Butar Beer Belly emptied his horn and held it out for the thrall to fill, “Did you see the drekar, ‘Cold Drake’? She has come, they say, from the King of Norway.”
My father wiped the foam from his beard, “Harald Fairhair has been so called king for less time than my son has been alive. He calls himself King of Norway but that does not make him so.”
Finn the Scar shook his head, “You never change Lars. Keep your voice down. We do not need to antagonise another drekar captain! It is bad enough that Jarl Eystein thinks so little of us.”
Instead of scowling my father smiled, “Then know that I have the hull of my drekar laid. This time next year we can raid without the say so of Jarl Eystein.”
For some reason that made the three warriors smile. The conversation lightened as they asked my father and Snorri about the ship. My coins were burning a hole in my purse. Arne was the same and as more men joined our fathers and their oar brothers we were crowded out. “Father, can we go to the market? It will make more room here and we have no voice.”
He looked down and spoke to Arne, “You are in command. Make sure your little brother does not do anything foolish.”
“Me!”
Snorri laughed, “Aye you, nephew. You are the most unpredictable youth I have ever met.”
We left the hall and headed to the market. In the time which had passed the three of us had grown. We did not have to move out of the way of men we met. Traders, anticipating sales at such a large gathering, had come in great numbers. When I saw the timber merchants, I knew that we had been meant to attend. If my father had brought coin then he could buy the pine and pine tar he desired. There were swordsmiths selling weapons. We could not afford them. We could only stand and look at them. They were longer than the swords we carried about our waists. The sword smiths were happy for us to handle them even though they knew that we would not buy them. They hoped we would tell our fathers. Despite the length of the blades they felt well balanced.
“Who are your fathers?”
“Lars Ragnarsson.”
“Snorri Long Fingers.”
“You mean Lars the Luckless?” The weapon smith turned to his companion, “Now there is a swordsman. He hewed more Saxon heads than any other when the Great Army swept through Northumbria.”
“I thought he was jarl now?”
The swordsmith shook his head, “Ivar the Boneless did not like Lars. It was said he was envious of his success. He forbade the men to elect him. They chose Eystein Rognvaldson instead.” He turned back to us. “He was a great warrior.” He reached beneath the table and pulled out a finely decorated seax sheath. “This is for you if you recommend us to your father.”
Arne took it, “I will do so.”
We would have much to talk about. The next weaponsmith sold bows. He had a Saami bow. I had heard that they were the finest bows that could be had. When we asked the price, we discovered that they were almost the same price as a sword. I considered buying a yew stave but realised I could have one for nothing. Most Saxon churches had a stand of yew. When next we raided, I would simply take one. I did buy a bow string. It cost me but a half penny and I knew that it would be better than any I might make.
I wandered over to the timber merchant. When my cousin and brother had finished, they followed me. I saw pine there. It had not been turned into planks yet and that would suit us. I also saw willow boards. Arne had a sheath and I saw a way to profit from my visit. “My father seeks pine for a mast and for decking. What is the price?”
He told me but I had no concept if it was a good price or not. My father would haggle but I would be able to give the price to my father.
“And how much for willow boards?”
He frowned, “Your father wants a shield?”
“He has a shield but I want one.”
“You are a little young to be a warrior.”
Arne said, defensively, “My little brother has killed at least one Walhaz warrior with his bare hands.”
The timber merchant looked impressed. “Then aye I do. I can do you a good price.”
I smiled, “You can do us all a better price if we tell our fathers that you are a fair man.”
He laughed, “You are a Viking! You know how to trade. Tell me how much is in your purse and I will tell you if you can afford the boards needed to make a shield.”
I halved the number, “Four silver pennies.”
I saw him considering. He said, “And you two?”
“The same.”
He held out his hand to me, “Then you have a deal but you drive a hard bargain!”
We spied a smith selling metal items he had made. He had some metal nails. They were long ones with a flat head. We each purchased some with our horde of coins.
We carried our purchases to the snekke and covered them with the seal skin cover we used to protect the cargo. Arne said, “You are clever little brother and now
we have coin left.”
I nodded, “And I am hungry. Let us see what delicacies our coin will buy us.”
Our noses took us to the bakers and there we each bought two honeyed oat cakes. We had no bee hive. Our bees had died in a bad winter two years since and the honeyed cakes were like nectar. We sat on the sea wall and ate them slowly savouring each crumb. It was late afternoon when the warriors emerged from the hall. They came out in knots and most headed for the stalls set up by the ale wives. My father and his friends came out and, spying us came over to speak. Snorri sniffed, “I smell honeyed oat cakes! Our sons spent their money well!”
I nodded, “And we bought willow boards for our shields. There is a timber trader here, father and he has plenty of pine!”
My father’s face had had a scowl upon it but now he grinned. “Then let us find him.”
“And there is a swordsmith. He gave me a sheath for my dagger if I would tell you.”
“Then you have told me and you have your honour. Come let us buy pine. The day may not be totally wasted!” They headed off with Finn the Scar. Butar Beer Belly headed for the ale wives but Asbjorn, who was the youngest of my father’s friends stayed with us.
We saw Karl the Lame and his father. They emerged with the jarl and a warrior in the finest mail I had ever seen. Upon his helmet was a flying bird. I gasped out loud. Butar shook his head, “The helmet is for show. If you fight in a helmet like that you will lose the bird or your head. That is Halfdan Halfdansson the nephew of King Harald of Norway.” We watched as they walked the finely dressed warrior and his men to his drekar. “The King of Norway offers his ships and the jarl has accepted. Your father is not happy. He believes that Harald Fairhair has ulterior motives. We agree with him. However, as we get to raid Mann and kill pirates then we will go along with the jarl.” He pointed to the market, “And if your father can get the timber for the mast then we can do without the jarl.”
Siggi was thoughtful, “This might cause trouble with the jarl.”
