“Your father is tough. He will live.”
I risked standing. Night was coming. The sun was sinking in the west. We were heading east into the darkness. The wind was getting up and the river was getting rougher. There might be a storm ahead. My father was asleep. My grandfather had told me that sleep was the way that the gods healed you. I hoped so. I saw that many of our warriors were curled up asleep. It had been a hard row up the river and we had fought hard. Halfdan and his men would be enjoying a night in Lundenwic without fear of a knife in the night for their enemies were dead. Only five boats had headed downstream away from the captured city. I had no doubt that the rest would gain more treasure than we but Harold was right. We needed our people safe. My father regretted the raid. I did not for I had a vision of the future. When I returned to the Land of the Horse I would set about claiming it. My brother would not have it without a fight. I would see my father healed and, with my grandfather and my father’s oathsworn, I would make the clan one, once again.
The Norns were spinning and I knew not. My life was changing and I was unaware. Threads would be cut but I could not see them.
My father appeared to be sleeping easier. I peered ahead and saw that there were three Danish ships at the longphort. I assumed they were Danish for they had been the only ones which had not arrived before we left. They would have poor pickings for we had taken the best.
Harold walked back to us. “Magnús the Fish, lay us alongside ‘Storm Bird’ .”
“We could carry on home if you wish, Harold Strong Arm. There may be a storm coming. If we row we might beat it.” He was a true sailor and knew the wind and the tide better than any man I ever knew.
Harold shook his head. I can still see it now twenty years after he did so. “We owe Jarl Bjorn a farewell. We will say goodbye and then leave.”
The river was getting rougher moment by moment and the wind was increasing. Our men had taken off their mail. The battle was done. I wondered about taking off my mail. It was as we were nearing ‘Storm Bird’ that Magnús the Fish shouted, “There are two more Danish ships coming from the other shore. I like not this!”
If my father had been awake we might have survived. Harold Strong Arm was not a jarl. He looked south as the Danes poured over the side of ‘Storm Bird’ . It was a trap. The Danes had deliberately waited so that they could lure us close and take the treasure from weary warriors.
Harold was frozen. I shouted, “Magnús the Fish! Head for the open sea!”
He obeyed me and put the steering board over. The two Danish ships crashed into us. Harold reacted the quickest. “Repel boarders.” He turned to me. “We need your sword! Remember Rollo, keep your feet wide apart when you fight. If you do not then it is easy to overbalance.” He gave me a grim smile, “Pretend you are on a horse!”
The drekar was pitching with the wind and the rough water of the estuary. The sea and the river intertwined between these two islands. I drew my sword and glanced at my father. No matter what happened I would make sure that he was safe. The Danish drekar lurched into us and I almost lost my footing. I ran to the side and, using two hands, swept my sword into the guts of the Dane who clung to our stays. I held the stay with my left hand and stood on the sheerstrake. I raised my sword and I shouted, “It you wish this ship then you will have to get past me!” I heard the crew shout as they heard my voice. A Dane leapt at me. He did not even make our drekar. My sword sliced across his belly and he fell between our two hulls. A second drekar had attached herself to our prow and Danes flooded over her. I watched as Harold Strong Arm led our warriors to face them. I had eight warriors with me but my wide swing had stopped the Danes from gaining access across our stern. I brought my sword over my head and split the skull of another Dane who tried to board. A spear was hurled at me. My mail was too strong. The tip pricked me but that was all.
I heard a cheer from the bow. It was a Danish cheer. I saw Harold Strong Arm and Snorri Snorrison. They were both slain in the same instant. Even as I thought to go to their aid I heard a cry from Magnús the Fish. “Rollo!”
I looked around and saw that he had a spear in his shoulder. We needed someone on the steering board. “Soren, hold here!” I jumped down and ran to the steering board. I noticed two things. Ragnvald was standing there with a bloody knife in his hand and my father’s chest was covered in blood. His throat was bloody. I dropped to my knees and put my head to my father’s mouth. He was not breathing. Ragnvald Hrolfsson was dead.
Magnús the Fish shouted a warning, “Rollo!”
I looked up and saw Ragnvald lurching towards me with his bloody blade. As I raised my sword to kill him my life changed forever. I was struck in the back by a blade and a third Danish ship crashed into us. I found myself toppling over the side. The sheerstrake was before me and I overbalanced. I was unable to stop myself. As I tumbled over the side I saw Arne the Breton Slayer with a sword in his hand coming purposefully towards me and then I hit the water. I was wearing mail and seal skin boots. I was going to die!
Chapter 9
Even as I hit the water I let my sword drop from my hand. I undid my sword belt and let that fall too. My mail was dragging me down. I knew that I had to remain calm and not panic. For the first time I appreciated having a short byrnie. I reached down and lifted it above my head. My descent to the bottom of the river helped. The water pulled my arms and the mail shirt up and over my head. My feet touched the muddy, oozy bottom. I had been lucky and fallen onto a shallow part of the estuary. It was still and it was silent. There was no storm here. It was dark. It felt unreal. As I pulled the byrnie from me I kicked with both feet. I held my horse amulet and prayed to Njoror, the god of the sea, to save me. The seal skin boots had filled with water and the muddy bottom held them firmly. My feet came out of them. That saved my life for I began to rise through the water. I saw nothing above me. How far had I sunk? I must have been close to the shore when I had fallen for I had touched bottom. As I rose I felt the current taking me. The closer I came to the surface the stronger was the current. I was in the water that was a mixture between the river and the sea. The tide and the river were pulling me. Which way was I headed?
My head broke the surface. I sucked in air. I had just closed my mouth when a wave broke over me. I had made sure, after my brother had first thrown me in the sea, that I knew how to swim well. I trod water and spread my arms. I spun myself around. At first, I saw nothing and then as a swell lifted me I saw the masts of ships. They were more than five hundred paces from me. Another wave broke over me and when I came to the top of the next swell I could see nothing. It was dark and night was coming. I was going to die and my father would be unavenged. As I felt the cold of the sea bite into me I knew that my brother and Arne the Breton Slayer would concoct a story about me which would make sense without warriors like Harold Strong Arm and Snorri Snorrison to refute it. In that moment I knew that Magnús the Fish was dead too. They could not allow him to live for he had seen Arne the Breton Slayer strike me in the back. He had seen my brother kill my father. Patricide! Was there a more heinous crime?
I was resigned to die and then the Norns spun. When the Danish ships had crashed into ours there had been a crash. Both the Danes and us had suffered damage and the Norns sent me a shield. I saw it bobbing on the top of the water a few paces from me. It was not from our ship for this had no metal boss. That would have sunk. I kicked my legs and swam towards it. I turned it so that the leather straps were on the top. I hauled myself so that the top half of my body lay upon it. I gripped the end with one hand while slipping my other hand through the leather strap. The wind and the sea took me north and east. I guessed it was north and east for that had been the wind direction as we had sailed from Lundenwic. The sea was empty. I saw crests and troughs as the choppy waters tossed me and my Danish shield about.
It was a long night and it was an empty night. The troughs and crests of the waves subsided as the storm lessened. I peered into the night but I saw nothing. The drekar would either
be at the longphort or they would be heading south and east. We would be going in different directions. I reached under my kyrtle. I had not lost the lost the metal horse I wore around my neck. I gripped it. “Allfather, help me to live that I might wreak vengeance on a murderer. My father should be in Valhalla with you. He cries out for vengeance and I am that instrument.” My eyes were closed but I saw a light. I thought about that light long after. The light was inside my head and it was the answer from the Allfather. Gripping the horse seemed to bring me peace.
I must have fallen asleep for when I opened my eyes the sky was lighter. I knew I was being taken east for the sky behind me was still dark. Would I strike the marshy land of the Frisians? I doubted it. When we had sailed from Frisia to Lothuwistoft it had taken more than a day. I was just drifting. Salt had caked my head and my lips. I was so thirsty that I doubted there was a barrel of ale large enough to quench it. I dipped my hand in the sea and used it to wash my eyes. I heard the screech of sea birds above me. What creatures were there in the sea? Would I be a tasty meal for some denizen of the deep?
I could no longer feel my legs and I felt cold. Sleep seemed an attractive proposition. When my eyes closed I felt at peace. I slowly slipped into an uneasy sleep. I dreamed.
My grandfather was piling stones upon a cairn. I knew what that was. It was a memorial to me and my father. He looked old. Even as I watched I saw a gleeful Ragnvald raise his sword and strike the old man in the back. It all went black. In my dream I smelled smoke and I saw flames. It was the Haugr and it was burning. Drekar were on fire. There were Bretons slaying people I had known since childhood. I saw Brigid the ale wife as she was hacked by Breton swords. I saw Bagsecg Bagsecgson with hammer defending his family until he was cut down. It was the end of my world as I had known it. I heard a laugh which filled my head and I woke.
Opening my eyes, I looked up and there was a sea bird above my head. Then I heard another sound. It was the creak of a rope and the crack of a sail. Then I heard a voice, it was Norse, “Ware ahead, wreckage in the water.”
I raised my arm. It was a mistake for the move made the shield flip over. My arm was still attached to the strap and I was dunked beneath the waves. I struggled to pull my arm from the strap and my head broke surface. I looked up at a row of shields and warriors staring at me. It was a drekar. Would they leave me or end my pain? Would they take pity on me and haul me aboard? I was answered when a rope snaked over. I grabbed it with both hands and I was dragged to the side. Strong arms pulled me over and I flopped like a floundering fish on to the deck.
“By the Allfather, jarl, we have caught the biggest fish I have ever seen! Look at the size of this giant.”
“Bergil you fool, he is a youth. Give him some ale, his mouth is covered in salt.”
“A waste of good ale, jarl. From the way those birds were closing in he might be dead already.”
I croaked, “No, I live. The Norns have saved me for a purpose.”
I opened my eyes and looked into the face of a grey bearded Viking. He smiled as the young warrior called Bergil held a horn of ale to my mouth. Beer had never tasted as good. The Viking said, “I am Rognvald Eysteinsson. Njoror the god of the sea has sent you to me. I will see you safe to my home in Møre.” He stood, “Get us back on course. Beorn, go to my son’s chest and fetch a kyrtle and his cloak.”
The one called Bergil shook his head, “Your son was a big warrior but not as big as this one.”
“He needs to be out of the wet kyrtle. He needs warmth.” He put his hand out to me, “Can you stand?”
“Aye.” I took his outstretched arm and pulled myself up. I was a head taller than the old man.
The one called Bergil shook his head, “What did they feed you when you were growing up? Whole cows?”
I pulled off the kyrtle as the ship’s boy brought me a dry one. As soon as I donned it I felt warmer but my teeth began to chatter. Why was that? Rognvald Eysteinsson put the cloak about my shoulders. “Come to the steering board. I have a canvas rigged there. I would hear your story.”
“First I would like to thank you. I owe you a life.”
“No, for the gods have sent you to me for a purpose. The Norns have been spinning. Your thread was not yet ready to be cut.” He waved over Bergil. “Watch over him. That storm looks like it is returning to us.”
Bergil draped the seal skin cape around my shoulders and, gradually, my teeth stopped chattering. “What is your name, giant?”
“Rollo.”
He frowned, “I thought you were Viking! You speak our language well if you are a Frank.”
“I am no Frank! I am the son of Ragnvald Hrolfsson, grandson of Hrolf the Horseman.”
Bergil laughed, “Then you must be Hrólfr the Walker for there is no horse big enough to carry you!” The men around laughed. I was too busy eating the salted ham they gave me to correct them and that became my name while I served under Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson. I became Göngu-Hrólfr. It was not meant in a nasty way. It was, if anything, a compliment. I was just grateful to be alive. Now I had to plan how to get home and wreak my revenge. We were travelling in the wrong direction. We were travelling north!
“Where have you come from?” I noticed that the oars were only single manned and there were some chests without rowers. They were not rowing yet; the oars were raised but it seemed under crewed. She was only a threttanessa but I would have expected more warriors.
Bergil’s face darkened, “We were raiding the land of the Franks. My cousin Eystein Rognvaldson and half of our crew were taken and slain when we were ambushed. My uncle felt the loss deeply. Eystein was his only son.”
“The jarl lost a son?”
He nodded, “I think that is why he is so concerned about you. You are some father’s son and he has saved you.”
“Hands to oars!”
“I must go. We will talk later. I would hear your story.”
I saw that the oars were unbalanced. They had one more on the steerboard side. It would make the helmsman’s task harder. I saw that the jarl was at the steering board. I stood and walked to an empty chest and, taking an oar pushed it through the empty port. I watched for the other oars and I joined them in rowing. They were rowing silently. This was a saddened crew.
Bergil was behind me, “You had not need to row, Göngu-Hrólfr, although we are grateful.”
“This will warm me up quicker than anything and I cannot sit idly by while others work. It is not in my nature.”
“We are grateful and the drekar moves quicker.”
The man in front of me shouted, “Less talk and more effort Bergil Big Mouth.” Others laughed. I saw that the man, who was bare armed had two dragons tattooed on them. It was exquisite work.
“Ignore Sven Blue Arm, Göngu-Hrólfr. He and the others are jealous because I tell the best tales.”
“But you do not sing when you row.”
There was silence until the man before me, Sven Blue Arm, said, quietly, “Eystein used to lead the singing. No one has the heart.”
“Göngu-Hrólfr, have you a song to cheer us up?”
“I have.” I chose the one about my grandfather.
The horseman came through darkest night
He rode towards the dawning light
With fiery steed and thrusting spear
Hrolf the Horseman brought great fear
Slaughtering all he breached their line
Of warriors slain there were nine
Hrolf the Horseman with gleaming blade
Hrolf the Horseman all enemies slayed
With mighty axe Black Teeth stood
Angry and filled with hot blood
Hrolf the Horseman with gleaming blade
Hrolf the Horseman all enemies slayed
Ice cold Hrolf with Heart of Ice
Swung his arm and made it slice
Hrolf the Horseman with gleaming blade
Hrolf the Horseman all enemies slayed
In two strokes the Jarl was felled
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br /> Hrolf's sword nobly held
Hrolf the Horseman with gleaming blade
Hrolf the Horseman all enemies slayed
Bergil shouted, “A good song. I feel power racing through my veins. That is your grandfather?”
“Aye he slew the Dane, Black Teeth.”
“Until we are clear of Danish waters we do not like to speak of them.” Sven Blue Arm appeared to be the leader of the crew. He was like Harold Strong Arm had been.
“I am sorry. I did not know.”
We rowed until noon and then the wind turned enough to make life easier for us. We stacked our oars and drank ale. The crew gathered around me. “Now, tell us your tale.”
I was not certain I wanted to share the treachery of my brother but these warriors had given me a life. I told them all. My story was greeted with silence. “So, you were betrayed, left without a father and oathsworn, you died and were then reborn. I can see, Göngu-Hrólfr, that there is more to you than a chest as big as two men and a height which would dwarf trees.” Bergil handed me another horn of ale. “I like you!”
I was tired and so I rested my head next to the chest I had used for rowing and, with my cloak over me, I fell asleep.
I was shaken awake by Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson. “We have made camp on a beach. Come ashore. It will be more comfortable sleeping on a beach than the hard deck.”
“I was so tired, jarl, that I could have slept standing up.”
He put his hand out and helped to pull me up. “Bergil told me your story. My nephew is loud but he means well. The Norns have been spinning their webs again. I lost my son not far from your home and you lost your father even as I was sailing close to Cent. Our threads are bound.”
We were alone and so I said, “What will become of me?”
He looked at me quizzically, “Become of you? I do not understand.”
“I am grateful that you rescued me. Do you intend to put me ashore at a port?”
Brothers in Blood (Norman Genesis Book 7) Page 14
