She did not move. "Hurry!" I said. "You are not safe here." After a moment I added, "And I thank you. You did well."
By the time I reached the bow, many of the Gull's crew had already gathered there, some still pulling on their brynies or adjusting the straps of their helms. "Have you seen anything?" I asked Gudfred.
He shook his head. "No, but in this fog, that means little."
I needed all of our archers with me. "Asbjorn, Einar," I whispered to the men gathered just back of the fore-deck, "Where are you?"
"Here. Here." Their voices came from somewhere within the crowd of men in front of me.
"To me. Bring your bows." Spying Bjorgolf and Bryngolf among the men who were already armed and ready, I waved to them and said, "You come, too."
As soon as they had all joined me up on the fore-deck, I explained my plan. "We archers will form a line across the pier. Hallbjorn, go now across to the Serpent, and tell them we need the archers in her crew to join us, also. Bjorgolf, Bryngolf, I need you to gather men and form a shield wall behind us. When they come, we will shoot a volley at them, two if we have time. Then you must open the wall long enough for us to fall back behind you. Quickly—let us go! We do not know how soon they will attack."
We were already on the pier, forming the two lines across it—the archers even with the fronts of the ships, the shield wall a short distance behind—when Hastein and Torvald arrived. "What are you doing? What is happening here?" Hastein said gruffly.
When I had explained, he nodded and said, "It is good. Well done."
"After we retreat through the shield wall," I added, "the archers will move to the fore-decks of the Gull and Serpent. The attackers will not be able to reach us there,"—because of the curve of the hulls, the ends of the ships in both the bow and stern did not abut the pier—"but we will be able to shoot our arrows into their ranks from either side."
Hastein nodded again. "Good," he said. "I have no doubt they outnumber us—perhaps greatly. But they can only attack down this pier, which gives us an advantage. We must bleed them when they come."
"We can use the cargo," Torvald suggested, "to build a wall across the pier. If we fight from behind it, our position will be stronger still."
"Do it," Hastein told him. "But take no more than ten men with you. I want the rest here, with me, at the shield wall."
Torvald's planned wall was not yet built—he and his men were still wrestling barrels and bales of furs from the decks of the two ships onto the dock—when the Sveas made their move. But the five archers from the crew of the Serpent had joined Einar, Gudfred, Hallbjorn, Asbjorn and me, to form a line of archers ten strong stretched across the wooden pier. We were waiting with arrows at ready on our bows, straining to hear or see anything in the dense fog that hid the shore.
"I think I hear something," Einar whispered. He was standing beside me, on my right. After a moment, Gudfred, who was on my left, said, "Aye, I do too." And then, just beyond the end of the pier, the shadowy forms of warriors, moving forward in a crouch behind their shields, appeared out of the fog.
The need for silence was past. "Draw!" I cried, and as one we raised our bows, drawing our arrows back as we did. We could see only dim shapes, making it impossible to aim carefully, but I locked my gaze on one and said, "Loose!"
As soon as my right hand released its hold on the string, I reached down to the quiver hanging at my right hip, clawed another arrow from it, and slapped it across my bow, fitting its nock onto the string. On either side, the others did the same.
Beyond the end of the pier, on the shore, our arrows struck. Dull thuds and sounds of splintering wood meant that some had hit shields, but screams of pain told us that others had found their targets.
"Draw!" I shouted. "Loose!"
Again our shafts sped down the length of the pier and into the shadowy shapes in the fog. They were no longer bunched in a close line. I could make out gaps, and men were milling about in confusion. As yet, they were still too surprised and disarrayed by our unexpected missile fire to rally and attack. Their confusion gave us time to strike them again.
"Draw! Loose!" and a third volley sped on its way.
From somewhere back in the wall of fog, a voice—it sounded like Herigar—shouted, "Forward! Charge them! Cut them down!"
As men surged forward out of the fog and ran down the pier, their feet thudding on its wooden planks, their voices howling angry battle cries, I shouted, "Back! Fall back!"
Behind us, every other man in the front rank of the shield wall stepped in front of the man to his right. I turned and ran back through one of the gaps, as the other archers did the same.
"Close the wall!" Hastein ordered. "Ready! Front rank down! Lower spears!"
The front rank of the shield wall knelt and extended their spears forward at a low angle, bracing the butts of the shafts against the surface of the pier. The second rank pressed close behind them, shields overlapping, their spears extended out chest-high above the kneeling men. The third rank had slung their shields across their backs and were holding their spears high in both hands, ready to thrust them over the shoulders of the warriors in front of them, should any of the enemy battle their way close to the line through the thicket of stabbing blades.
The Sveas had courage. They threw themselves against the spears, trying to swat them aside with their shields and swords. I watched for but a moment, then cried, "Archers—to the fore-decks."
Einar and Gudfred had already made their way to where the side of the Gull was lashed against the pier and had climbed aboard her, and now they were running up her deck toward the bow. I followed them at a fast trot, Asbjorn and Hallbjorn beside me, as the archers from the Serpent headed for their ship.
Even before we reached the fore-decks and hit them with our arrow fire from either side, the Sveas' attack was wavering. When our arrows, shot from almost point blank range, began to fell them, they broke and ran. Some retreated cautiously, backing down the pier with shields raised and weapons ready, in case our shield wall charged, but others turned and ran. I put an arrow in the middle of the back of one who did. He may have been fleeing for now, but that did not mean he would not attack again later.
Silence settled over the pier, broken only by the groans of wounded men. I did not know how many of our attackers we had felled on the shore with our initial three volleys, but scattered along the pier I counted nine down with arrows in their bodies, and in front of the shield wall, four warriors wounded in the brief melee there were dragging themselves back down the dock, leaving broad smears of blood across its planks. Gudfred shot one and killed him, but when he did, Hastein called out, "Let them leave," so we held our fire as the other three crawled away.
None of our warriors had taken even a minor wound. It had been a one-sided fight.
We readied ourselves for a second attack, but none came. "They are waiting for daylight," Gudfred said. "For the fog to burn away." His words would prove to be true.
While we waited and watched, Torvald and his men completed their barricade of cargo across the pier. When another attack came, we would no longer have the advantage of surprise. But our attackers would still have only the width of the pier to approach us and fight in, and our archers could still fire into them from the ships' bows on either side—plus now the warriors in our shield wall would have a makeshift stockade to protect them, as well. I thought we still held the upper hand.
By now the sun had risen above the fog and was beginning to melt it away. I had joined Hastein and Torvald at the center of the barricade across the pier. We could not yet see clear sky overhead, nor all the way to the far side of the harbor, and the fortress above was still completely hidden by low clouds that wreathed the top half of the rocky hill. But the buildings along the shore, beyond the end of the pier, were visible now.
Torvald pointed toward an open space between two of them where a road through the town ended at the harbor's edge. "They come," he said.
A group of warriors, in
a tight wedge formation with shields overlapped, marched slowly toward the end of the pier. They were too few in numbers to be an attack, and were waving a white flag attached to the shaft of a spear overhead.
When they reached the edge of the pier, a voice—Herigar's—called out, "May we approach without being fired upon?"
"Let us see what they have to say," Hastein muttered, and shouted back, "You may approach."
They stopped a spear's cast away from the cargo barricade, far enough down the pier so that our archers in the ships' bows would not have lines of fire into their flanks.
"You and your men fight well, Dane," Herigar said, when they had stopped. "I respect you for that. But though you have won the first skirmish, this is a battle you cannot win."
Hastein said nothing. After a few moments, Herigar continued. "Even now, archers are moving into position on the hillside above you." I glanced up at the hill. Men carrying bows were carefully making their way down its steep slope. They were a considerable distance away, as far as a long arrow shot. It was much too far for them to be able to shoot with any accuracy, but they could still lob arrows down onto us, and some, no doubt, would find targets.
"My garrison numbers many more men than you have," Herigar said. "You have bloodied us. I will grant you that. And if we must fight this to the end, I have no doubt that I will lose more of my men. But in the end, we will overrun you. And I make this promise: if we must fight this to the end, we will offer no mercy. In the end, you will all die. Lay down your weapons now, surrender to us, and we will not take your lives. It is your only chance."
"That is not much of an offer," Torvald observed.
"No," Hastein agreed. He shouted back, "After your treacherous attack on us, we have little cause to trust that you will honor any promises you make. We may be in a bad position here, as you say. It may even be our fate to die here. But it may not. That is something no man can predict. In any case, when I die, it will be with my arms unbound. We will not surrender."
"You are a fine one to speak of treachery, Dane," Herigar answered. "Did you think we do not know why you are here? We have blocked the entrance to the harbor. A ship is anchored across it, and chained to the posts on either side. The rest of your fleet, when it arrives, will not be able to get in. No one will rescue you. And your two ships will not be able to escape. If you do not surrender now, we will attack—and you will die."
"What is he saying?" Torvald muttered. "He makes no sense."
"None of this has ever made sense," Hastein said. "Wait!" he called.
"You will surrender?" Herigar asked.
"No," Hastein replied. "But before you attack, we should talk. You are seeing enemies where there are none. There is no fleet coming. There is only us—only our two ships. And we came to Birka in peace—we mean you no harm. We are not your enemies. We do not know why you see us as such. Think on it. What if you are making a mistake? You are sending your men to fight and die for no reason. And it will not be a small matter, between our king and yours, if you kill two shiploads of Danes for no cause."
Hastein's words were followed by a long silence. Finally Herigar responded.
"If you are lying, you will gain nothing by this. But you are trapped here, and cannot escape. We need not rush to kill you. We will talk."
* * *
It took a little while to arrange the terms of a truce between us. In exchange for delaying his attack, Herigar first wanted hostages, but Hastein would give him none. He asked to be allowed to retrieve the bodies of his dead and wounded from the pier, which Hastein granted. Neither side trusted the other, and treachery was alleged by both. In the end, Herigar agreed to hold off his attack only until the sun reached its noon zenith. He and Hastein would meet at the end of the pier, each accompanied by just one man. No one would bear arms or wear armor.
Hastein chose me to accompany him. "We are here in Birka only because of Toke," he explained. "And I cannot help but wonder if Herigar's belief that we are enemies is a seed Toke somehow planted. If so, there is no one more a part of all of this than you."
We walked down the pier to where Herigar and his chosen man stood waiting. I suspected Herigar had chosen his companion solely on the basis of his physical strength. He was stocky, with a low, heavy brow, a chest the size of a barrel, and massive arms. He looked like the spawn of a cave troll—and like he could rip a man's head from his body with his bare hands. Clearly Herigar believed we might break the truce and use our meeting as a chance to try to kill or capture him—at least I hoped that was why he had chosen his guardian, and not because he planned treachery himself. Hastein and I together would be no match against this troll-man, without weapons.
When we reached the pier's end, Herigar cocked his head and looked up. "The sun crosses the sky, Dane," he said. "Speak. I do not know what you hope to convince me of, but your time to try is passing."
Hastein seemed, for the first time since I had met him, to be at a loss for words. It was a bad time for that to happen. Finally he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then asked, "Can you tell me, Herigar, why you believe we are your enemies?"
I did not think it a strong beginning. Neither did Herigar. He rolled his eyes and said, "This is why you asked for a truce? Do you think me simple minded? You and your men are not merchants. You did not sail all the way across the Austmarr, from Denmark to Birka, to trade the goods aboard your ships. You could have traded them at Hedeby, and been back home in your own beds within a few days' time."
It was so simple a truth that I had not seen it.
"It is true," Hastein said, after a few moments, "That when we left Jutland, the purpose of our voyage was not trade."
A triumphant look filled Herigar's face. "Then you lied to me, when you said you had come here to trade. And when you said your name is Hastings. Is it not true that your name is Hastein, and that you are a powerful jarl in the kingdom of the Danes?"
Hastein's surprise showed on his face. He and I exchanged quick glances. Surely this could have come only from Toke.
Herigar continued. "That struck home, did it not? I see it on your faces. So you lied when you said you came here to trade, you lied about your name, and you concealed that you are a powerful leader among the Danes. And yet you accuse me of treachery?"
Hastein shook his head. "I have my reasons for hiding my name," he said. "They have nothing to do with you, or with your town. And I am a jarl over northern Jutland—it is true. That I did not choose to announce that fact is my own business. But we did come in part to trade, though that was not our original intent. We acquired the goods you saw well into our voyage—at Oeland. And as we were bound for Birka anyway, we thought to sell them here."
Herigar waved his hand at Hastein's words, as if brushing away a fly. "You acquired your trade goods at Oeland? You have many bales of furs. When did Oeland become a center for the fur trade? You are lying again, Dane. You are here on behalf of Anund. Your plan was to sneak into Birka disguised as merchants, and hold the harbor's entrance so the rest of his ships could enter. With the harbor closed, he will have to attack by land and face the town's walls. But if you let him into the harbor, Birka's soft underbelly will be exposed. Do you think I do not see this?"
"Anund?" Hastein said. "I know no Anund. Is that not the name of one of the kings of the Sveas?"
"Your time is up, Dane," Herigar snapped. He wheeled, his cloak swirling around him as he did, and began walking away in long strides. "Come!" he called over his shoulder to his companion, who was backing away, watching us warily.
"Wait!" I cried. I had to know. "Was a man named Toke here? Was it he who told you we came to attack Birka?"
Herigar stopped. He stood still, his back to us, as if weighing my words.
"We came here hunting him," I continued. "That is why we are here in Birka. It is the only reason. He murdered my brother. He stole my sister, and brought her here to Birka to sell her into slavery. She has golden hair. Her name is Sigrid. Is she here?"
&
nbsp; Herigar half turned and stared over his shoulder at me. Come back, I thought. Listen to us. But then he continued on, without looking back again. Watching him leave, I felt all of the hope inside of me draining away.
* * *
We waited all day for the attack to come, but it did not. Not long after Herigar stormed away, a longship crowded with warriors rowed across the harbor and anchored just out of bowshot, between our ships and the harbor's entrance. Beyond it, the ship blocking the entrance was pulled to one side, and a second longship rowed out of the harbor, raised its sail, and headed away toward the south.
Later in the afternoon, a smaller ship—a knarr—was rowed out and tied up alongside the anchored longship. Its decks were piled with wood, and several small barrels were stacked together in its stern. Torvald pointed at them. "Those will be filled with oil," he said. "They are going to send a fire-ship against us."
Waiting and waiting and waiting is a hard thing, when you expect at the end of the wait to die.
As the day wore on and no attack came, all but those standing watch in the ships' bows and at the barricade removed their helms. I unstrung my bow, for I did not want its limbs to take a set from being strung too long. Bryngolf and Bjorgolf used a pair of scissors to trim each other's hair and beards. "We want to look our best when we enter the feast hall of the gods," they explained.
Torvald passed the time carrying all of the longest oars to the sterns of the Serpent and the Gull. He also filled every bucket on the two ships with water from the harbor, and lined them up in the rear of the ships. "When they send the fire ship at us," he explained, "if we can hold it off long enough, it will burn down to the water and sink. I do not fear dying from steel, but I do not wish to burn to death. It is a bad way to go."
Hastein opened a fresh barrel of the smoked herring we had purchased on Mon, and insisted that all eat to keep up their strength. The sight and smell of food reminded me of Rauna. I realized I had not seen her since the night before.
The Long Hunt (The Strongbow Saga) Page 30
