Brothers in Blood (Norman Genesis Book 7)

by Hosker, Griff

  I shook my head, “I confess they are fine specimens but I came here to offer you the chance to be my helmsman when next we raid.”

  His eyes widened, “Helmsman on a drekar? It would be an honour. Do you think I can do it?”

  “Harold Fast Sailing thought so.”

  He looked at Harold, “Truly?”

  “I do not lie, Magnús and I think that you can do this.”

  He smiled, “I confess that I have sailed further in my little ship than my wife knows. I took her all the way to the islands off Cancale when the winds were favourable. If that is where you wish to raid then I know the waters there. I have sailed them.”

  “That is perfect then and shows that I have made the right choice. I will not be on the drekar but you will have Harold, Snorri, Leif and Haaken. They have more experience than enough. You will be given a share of the treasure and we hope that it will be a good haul.”

  “Then I accept, jarl, thank you.”

  Our two hostages ate with us that night. Mathilde was still wary of them but the fact that one was a priest made her less anxious. She did not say much and it was left to me to make conversation. Ragnvald and Wigo appeared to get on. They were close in age. I spoke with the priest. “Did you come from the land of the Bretons with Lord Salomon?”

  He shook his head. “I was a priest who served the Archbishop in Paris. I was bound for better things. The King himself sent me to act as God’s messenger to Lord Salomon.”

  The priest was not only pretentious he was also a liar. He had been sent as a spy to make sure that this Breton obeyed his new master. If he was a Breton then he sought to oust Duke Erispoe. I nodded. I could play games too. “Then you have a great deal of influence.”

  He smiled and sipped my wine. “More than many priests, that is true. I will be rewarded one day. A bishop first and then who knows? Archbishop?”

  He had a smug look on his face. I smiled at my wife, “What do you think, my love? We are dining with someone who may be an archbishop.”

  That appealed to the Christian in my wife and she began to speak with the priest. It allowed me to drink and to listen to the conversation between Wigo and Ragnvald. From it I also learned much. Wigo was as ambitious as his father. I now understood why the Lord of Caen was wary of Lord Salomon. The Franks were at war with one another and there were different parties vying for the throne. The Lord of Caen supported King Charles’ brother Lothair. Lord Salomon was attempting to gain the Dukedom of Brittany from his cousin Duke Erispoe. They were forming alliances to help them gain what they wanted. I could see why King Charles chose Saint-Lô. It was close to Brittany and would keep the Lord of Caen looking over his shoulder. Now that I understood everyone’s motives, I was satisfied.

  The ransom arrived two days later. The escort for the treasure took Wigo and the ambitious priest home. I sought out Ragnvald when the Breton lordling had left. “What did you learn from the Breton lordling?”

  “The Duke of Brittany makes war on the King of the Franks. It is being fought far to the south of here. There will not be as many men for us to fight. Wigo hoped to be fighting alongside his father. He seemed to think that there will be a battle between his father and the Duke. His father will lead Franks into battle.”

  His voice told me that he had got on well with the hostage. “What did you think of the Breton?”

  “I liked him. He will be a king one day. I would be king,”

  It was not the answer I expected. “We do not have kings.”

  He shrugged, “Perhaps we should. You and grandfather rule like kings. You should have the titles.”

  Was this the curse again? This did not sound like my father, or me and certainly not Rollo. I left him and went to my stables. I found comfort in horses. I groomed my horses and found that I was calmer than I had been. What did I do about my son? My warriors thought he was a hero and yet I had seen a totally different side to him. He could never lead the clan. Rollo was my heir.

  I sent the ransom to my jarls and lords. We still had a couple of months before we raided. My home did not need me and I felt lonely in my own hall. I left for the Haugr. I needed to speak with my father and Rollo. I had decisions to make before we raided. I went alone and I took Dawn’s Light. I did not go the short way. I rode to Gilles’ farm first. I did not visit. I just watched his men and his son working with the horses. That was my father’s legacy. While we went to war, Gilles prepared horses for us. I rode up the coast to the Haugr. The church on the spit of land always seemed, to me, to symbolise our people. It was a Christian church but my father had made it for my mother. He would never convert but he respected my mother and her religion. I did the same for my wife. I could not see a Christian doing the same for us. Drekar bobbed in the harbour. Despite our horses we were still raiders from the sea. We were still Vikings.

  As I approached the Haugr from the east I was able to watch my grandfather and son as they rode along the beach. They both had spears and my father’s servants had laid out hoops which they were spearing. My son was keeping pace with my father. His horse was the same size as my father’s. My son had grown. Although he was not spearing as many as my father he was very impressive. I waited until they had finished before I dug my heels in and headed over.

  Rollo saw me and galloped towards me. He threw himself from the saddle and leapt up to me. “Father! I have missed you! Tell me all!” It was the welcome I wanted from Ragnvald and never received.

  I clasped his arm. He was becoming almost as tall as me now. He was almost a man. I had not seen him for some time and he had grown. “We have had battles and we have defeated Frank and Breton. We have great stores of treasure in our hall and I have missed you!”

  “Will you stay? I have much to show you!”

  “A few days and then I prepare a raid on the Bretons.”

  My father came over, “Take the horses to the stable and I will speak with your father.” When he led our three horses off my father said, “Rollo One Ear told me some of what happened. You need to tell me all for I believe there were things unsaid.”

  I nodded, “I fear that there are Franks and Bretons who play a game of thrones. We are pawns and we are in the middle. I need your advice.”

  “Then use my old ears and I will see if I can dredge some thoughts from beneath this thatch of white.” I told him everything; including that which was speculation. He nodded when I had finished and Rollo had returned. “You have done well my son. You have power here and do not know it. When you raid you will weaken the Bretons but, as they make war on the Franks then you will have a greater chance of success. This Breton lord plays a dangerous game. I would avoid an alliance with him. It is better that you look to our people.”

  “Where is Jarl Thorbolt? His men would be an asset we could use.”

  My father shook his head, “He suddenly left. I blame myself. He wanted to be a powerful lord and he always saw me as someone who was above him. I never meant it thus. He wished to carve out his own land. He and Erik Green Eye had a falling out. I think that it was to do with me.”

  I put my hand on my father’s arm. “You have no reason to reproach yourself. Some men have a streak inside them which destroys them.”

  “Ragnvald?”

  I gave a slight shake of the head. It was not seemly to speak of such things while Rollo was there. I looked at Rollo. “And how is my son?”

  “He is a horseman. As you can see he grows so fast that I wonder what is going on inside him. He is three fingers taller now than when you left him with me. This will be the tallest Viking I have ever seen.”

  I saw Rollo swell up with pride. I looked at him with new eyes. He was big. I hazarded a guess that he was now bigger by a hand than his brother and he would soon catch up with me. What did that portend? I smiled, “You are growing. Perhaps it is the air here or the food your grandmother feeds you. Would you wish to come home with me?”

  He looked at my father and then at me. “I still have much to learn here and, if I am
to speak from my heart, life is better here.”

  It was like a knife to my heart. It was confirmation of the hardship one brother had inflicted upon the other. They had common blood and that was all. It had even stopped him growing. Rollo’s size was nothing to do with his grandmother’s cooking, it was to do with Ragnvald. Freed from the tyranny of Ragnvald his body was making him the warrior he was meant to be. I forced a smile, “Of course, I will not be back here now until after Tvímánuður. I would have you return with me then.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “But whatever happens it will be your decision.”

  Rollo nodded, “Aye, father, that would be good. My grandfather’s hearth weru are teaching me how to be a better warrior. I will be able to handle myself… whatever happens.”

  When I returned to my home I threw myself into the raid. It helped me avoid a confrontation with Ragnvald. I knew that he was now very popular with all who lived in our stad. Ironically, I liked him less. Mathilde noticed my demeanour and, one night, as we lay in our bed with my youngest daughter mercifully asleep in her own bed, she asked me the reason for my behaviour.

  I had kept it from her merely because we had rarely been alone. One or other of the girls normally shared our bed with us and at meal times Ragnvald was there. I was keeping no secrets from her. When I told her, she was appalled. “He should be punished!”

  “He has been. What has been done cannot be undone. We must prepare for the time when Rollo returns here. Ragnvald is now strutting around the stad like a young cockerel. All the other young boys follow him. I do not want Rollo to be isolated. We will have to think of some way of protecting him without being seen to do so.”

  She cuddled closer to me. “I am sorry, husband. I did not know and I have been thinking bad thoughts about you. I will have to confess my sins to the priest.”

  I laughed, “I worry not about bad thoughts my love. You were not to know what was going on. I could not tell you earlier. I beg you not to change in your attitude to Ragnvald. If you do then it will drive him further from us. Perhaps, after this raid, he will have grown up a little more. He is not yet a man.”

  “I will. Women can keep secrets too.”

  I did not know enough about the land we would be raiding. I sought out Magnús the Fish. “You said you had sailed to the islands off Cancale.” He nodded. “How long did it take you to sail there?”

  “I was lucky with the winds. I was there and back in daylight.”

  “Could you take me?”

  “I could but I would not be able to guarantee that we would be back in one day. We might have to either lay up or risk a journey in the dark.”

  “I am not worried about that. When you attack then you will be sailing in the dark.”

  He nodded, “True.” He looked up at the pennant on his fishing boat. “The winds are set fair at the moment. If you do not mind leaving in the middle of the night…”

  “I will be ready.”

  “Then I will see you at my boat.”

  I took neither mail nor helmet. I was a fisherman and I would play the part. I had a bow with me and my short sword. I had my best seal skin boots and my seal skin cape. Magnús the Fish’s wife saw us off. He would soon be a father. His son would have a father who would be not only rich but highly respected. It was wyrd . The wind was from the east. It would serve us both ways. Coming back would be trickier but as that would be in daylight I did not worry overmuch. I had no chance to look at the land we had recently captured. It was a shadow to the east but, as dawn broke I saw the island that was Mont St. Michel ahead. This had an abbey but there was also a stronghold. The treasures which lay within would be riches beyond our wildest dreams but the price we would have to pay made it unlikely that we would raid. There were easier targets.

  As the sun came up and we headed south and west, we saw other fishing boats. There were Breton boats and there were Franks. As Magnús told me, they did not bother each other. They were farmers of the sea and there was an unspoken truce upon the water. I saw the two islands he had told me about. I saw a tendril of smoke rising in the sky. “Could you go further south? I would like to see the place whence that smoke rises.”

  “It will add to our journey but I can reach there.”

  We had seen a few collections of huts along the coast. They marked where families of fishermen, like Mathilde’s family, made their living. The one I had spied looked a little bigger than the others. As we neared it I saw that the boats which used it were at sea. There were twenty homes but no wall and no tower. More importantly there was a stream which emptied into the sea. It would not slow us down but it might delay pursuit.

  “I have seen enough. Let us return home.” Our voyage north was slower. Magnús the Fish took us due north to take advantage of the wind. I spied other islands on our way north. Smaller than Sarnia and Angia they were uninhabited. I wondered if they might make good places to build a stronghold. If there was water on them then they would be impregnable. We made it home a couple of hours after the sun had set.

  “Thank you, Magnús the Fish. I now know how we will take this town.”

  “And I am more confident about sailing your drekar.”

  “You will do more than that, Magnús the Fish. You will lead our fleet!” I left him open mouthed.

  We would have more horsemen this time. The forty Breton horses we had captured were added to our herds and more of our young men chose to ride with us. Of course, they had no mail. All began to make the oval shield they would need. I made sure that our blacksmith made spear heads. We had plenty of swords. We had taken a great number from the dead Franks and Bretons. Lord Bertrand arrived first with his men. He still only had ten warriors who were mailed but the rest had a leather jerkin which was studded with metal. We had found it to be an effective way of protecting horsemen.

  He sat with me in my hall and, as we drank, told me what he had been thinking. “Those Breton horsemen with the javelins, they will be a problem.” I nodded. “I have come up with a solution. I have twenty of my men who have been training with javelins. They may not be as good as the Bretons yet but they are improving. We have to stop them destroying our mailed men. We counter their javelins with ours.”

  “Good. I have spoken with Folki and Rollo One Ear. We need to time our attack perfectly. There are two islands off Cancale. Magnús the Fish knows of them. They will stand out to sea with masts stepped and await our signal. Four miles south of Cancale is a small stream and a fishing village. It can be seen from the islands. We light a fire when we are there. That way we will arrive at Cancale at the same time as our ships. They will have to divide their forces. I intend to leave half a dozen men there with the spare horses. I do not fear pursuit from Cancale but there are other Breton strongholds. Even though there are many men with the Duke they will still leave a garrison.”

  Ragnvald had used the coins he had been given to have a helmet made. Of course, as soon as he did that then the other ships’ boys emulated him. Magnús the Fish pointed out that they would not be able to wear them while working on the ship but they insisted that they would be useful, “Last time we were attacked when we moored. This time we can fight back.”

  The horsemen left before the ships. We knew how long both would take and timing would be all. We had spare horses. We did not have enough for every rider but enough for us to ride without exhausting our beasts. We rode fifty miles that first day. We passed through Lessay, Périers and Coutances. All were unoccupied. Our scouts found a small dell in a wooded area. There was a stream and there was grazing. I made certain that we had plenty of sentries. I was not particularly worried. Lord Bertrand had confirmed the rumour of war. The Bretons had defeated the Franks in a battle to the south of us at a place called, Jengland-Beslé. We had an opportunity to strike while they were distracted.

  When we left, the next morning, we passed through a land devoid of any stronghold. There were isolated farms. This would be a good land for us to colonise. I would not break my word but when Lord Salom
on did then we would take it. The huge island stronghold of Mont St. Michel was awe inspiring. We could not hide from it for it towered high above the land. There were no boats in the small harbour. I wondered what they made of us. Perhaps, like the warriors from Caen, they mistook us for Franks or Bretons. Either way I was unworried. We would be within sight of the town by dawn the next day.

  The scouts reported that there were no warriors at the crossing by the river. It meant that we were able to take the town without a single blow being struck. I told the people there that if they cooperated we would do them no harm and we would be gone by the end of the next day. I told them that if they did not cooperate we would destroy every one of their fishing boats! They complied with our request.

  I hoped that, by now, Magnús the Fish was heading for the two islands we could see to the north of us. I had my men collect dry wood ready for the signal fire. We waited until it was dark of night. There was no moon and there were clouds. The wood soon burned. It was like a beacon in the night. They would probably see it in Cancale and might wonder what it meant.

  Karls’ sharp eyes picked out the tiny pin prick of light which flashed three times. It stopped and then it repeated. I had four men hold a cloak in front of the fire and then lower it three times. Leaving the ten men who would guard our spare horses we rode the four miles up the coast to Cancale. The three drekar would be rowed thence by warriors eager for vengeance. We had new ships’ boys but we remembered the ones we had lost.

  When I had sailed with Magnús the Fish I had had the opportunity to study, at a distance, the defences of the town. The harbour had no wall but above it on a long ridge lay the main homes, the warrior hall and the wooden wall which surrounded the settlement. I had seen one gate which was close to the harbour. I guessed they had to have a second and so I was leading my horsemen towards the western side. I knew that the road from Saint Maclou came to the town. There had to be a gate. The cloud cover made the night especially dark. I knew that we could not approach silently. Our horses’ hooves would be heard and they would snort and neigh too. The Bretons had horses too and they would give the alarm at the sound of strange horses. We were going to use a trick. I would use Lord Salomon’s name. All we needed was for the attention of those on the gate to be fixed on us. Lord Bertrand had some of his younger warriors ready to scale the walls. The fact that we wore helmets like the Franks and the Bretons might buy us just enough time.