by Griff Hosker
I glanced at him as he too made a steaming stream into the sea. “You could not sleep either?”
“No Jarl, there is something amiss. My sleep was disturbed but there were too many in the hall for my thoughts to be clear.”
I had learned not to ignore Aiden’s premonitions. “Danger here or at home?”
“Here, Jarl Dragonheart.”
I was about to go back into the hall when a figure hauled himself out of the water. It was Leif Siggison, one of Erik’s ship’s boys. He spluttered as he drew himself on to the stones, “Jarl Dragonheart, the captain sent me. There are ships heading here. You cannot see them for the island is in the way but they look to be warships.” I looked at his dripping form. “I came in a small boat but it capsized yonder in the rocks. Luckily I can swim.”
I peered into the dark and thought I saw a pennant fluttering white against the dark night. It was a ship. “Viking?”
He shook his head, “No, Jarl, Scots or Irish. We could not tell.”
“You have done well. Aiden see to him.” I ran back into the hall and began banging my sword against my shield. “Awake, there is danger!” It was my men who reacted first.
Thorfinn stood and angrily shouted, “Who commands in my hall!”
“I do! There are ships coming across the bay and they are filled with armed men.” I knew not if the latter was true but I guessed that they were.
“Is this some kind of trick?”
“If it is then what have I to gain save humiliation and embarrassment?”
He turned to one of his men. “Go and see if it is true.”
I shook my head and said, “My men, arm yourselves and form up outside. We will be ready to fight whoever comes this way.”
I grabbed my mail and donned it. I had no time for my wolf skin but I jammed my helmet on my head. As I left the hall I was nearly bowled over by the warrior Thorfinn had sent to investigate. “It is true, Jarl, and they have fired our ships!”
As the men of Ljoðhús donned their armour I went outside and looked across the bay. The three drekar and knarr were afire. Had Erik not moved my ship then it too would have been destroyed, wyrd. I saw the five enemy ships. They were shorter and tubbier than our ships; they were more like large knarr.
Haaken and Snorri appeared next to me. “I want us in two lines. Put the new men in the second line.”
Snorri nodded and turned to give the orders. Haaken said, “Do we fight?”
“Of course we do. We are guests. We owe it to our host.”
“I thought we would. It is good to know the woman, Brigid, has not changed you.”
I looked at him in surprise, “Your wife did not change you. I was married for many years to Erika, remember.”
“Aye but Brigid is young and you are sporting some grey hairs. I wondered if it might have changed you.”
I laughed, “Then you do not know my heart, Haaken. I am surprised.”
Thorfinn and his men emerged, “I am sorry I doubted your word, Jarl Dragonheart. Whatever the outcome this day I am in your debt.” The burning drekar illuminated the advancing ships. We could see the warriors crowded on their decks. “Picts and Scots!”
“You recognise them?” He nodded. “How do you wish to fight them?”
“We meet them at the edge of the sea. They will be hampered by the waves and the sand when they try to land..”
I nodded, it was a good plan.
He raised his sword. “Forward, we take no prisoners! I want their heads along the beach as a reminder of their folly!”
Our spears were still on my drekar. My warriors had swords only. They would have to do. It was a sloping shingle beach which bordered the wooden jetty. Thorfinn sent his archers to the jetty while we began to spread out along the beach. I could now make out the half naked warriors who crowded the bows of each of the five ships. Each ship appeared to have a leader who wore a helmet. I saw no armour. That was a good thing. Although the ones who leapt ashore first might be the only ones who were lacking mail.
One ship was moving faster than the others and it headed for the jetty. The others all headed for the safer approach of a wide shingle beach. The twenty bowmen who were standing on the jetty began to shower the deck with arrows. The lack of armour amongst the men on the ships and the shortness of the range drove the ship towards the beach which was safer than the wooden jetty. The jetty would be safe and the archers there could continue to pour death into the flanks of the Scots. As we watched them approach, ever closer, I realised that but for Erik we would have been surprised. Thorfinn kept no watch upon his bay. We would have been slaughtered where we slept. Wyrd.
As luck would have it the boat closest to me ground upon the shingle and the sea was filled with reckless warriors who jumped into the surf and raced towards us. Thorfinn had been correct. They struggled towards us. Their legs sank into the shingle and it took more steps to reach us than it should have. It looked to take twice as much effort to move a short distance. The shingle and the sea would sap the energy from their legs.
The first ones ashore made it to our shields quickly for they were bare footed and had no mail. They threw themselves at our shields screaming ancient war cries. They were easily slain but allowed those slower ones with mail to begin to clamber up the beach and meet us sword to sword on the level sand and shingle where we stood. Their leader had a hammer and a shield. He roared some unintelligible words at me and launched himself towards our line. He brought his hammer from a long way back. His feet were still in the soft, slippery shingle. Had we fought on dry land then I might have been in trouble but the treacherous shingle conspired against him. I angled my shield as the blow came. He slipped slightly and the blow slid harmlessly down the side of my shield. I brought my sword overhead too but I had feet firmly planted. I caught him across the neck. The blood spurted and sprayed the men adjacent to the leader.
There was a roar of anger as the men around him saw their leader die. I knew then those close to him were his oathsworn and they would either kill me or die trying. Haaken and Asbjorn the Strong flanked me. Our shields overlapped. The warriors who tried to get at me threw themselves recklessly at our blades. Their swords clattered and clanged off our shields and our helmets. We sliced, hacked and stabbed at the sea of Scots who flooded from the surf towards us. I felt a blow on my knee as a dying warrior tried to hurt me with his last act on this earth. His sword struck my long byrnie which came below my knees.
The rising sun behind them showed their reckless courage for bodies were floating away on the ebbing tide. Suddenly a spear head was thrust from behind the man I was fighting. It found a tiny gap between the sides of my helmet and the tip pricked my face. I brought my shield up sharply and the head broke on the sharp edge of my shield. The metal head fell at my feet. It had barely penetrated but blood flooded freely down my face. I judged that we had taken enough. “Ulfheonar! Forward! Drive them into the sea!”
The warriors behind us pushed against our backs with their shields. We, in the front rank, struck with our swords and then punched with the bosses of our shields. The line fell back and, as their feet struggled for purchase, many of them fell into the surf. They died like stranded fish. We moved forward. I now understood their difficulty for my legs sank almost to my knees in the soft stony sand. The ebbing sea sucked the dead bodies away from us. I felt my arm and legs ache from the effort.
“Switch!”
This would be a test of my new men. As my Ulfheonar turned and stepped back, most of my newer warriors took our places at the fore. It was a move we had used before. It gave fresh arms, legs and eyes to the fight. I watched with pride as my warriors who wore no mail yet but aspired to be warriors like us finished off the crew of the Scottish boat which had been closest to us. I was proud for none of the enemy returned to the boat. Three other Scottish raiders were slipping away west for the fight was over. There were so many bodies in the sea that I felt as though I could have walked across them. It had been a great slaughter.
I saw warriors all along the beach finishing off the wounded who lay in the sea. Dawn’s early light shone off the bloody water and metal helmets. It was a grim sight. Thorfinn Blue Scar strode down the beach towards me. I took off my helmet to greet him. The cool morning air felt good. He held his arm out for me to clasp it. “Thank you, Jarl Dragonheart. I see that the stories of your sword and your men are not exaggerated. Although few in number they truly have the courage of the wolf.” I nodded. He pointed to my face, “Ah, you now have a scar upon your face. I have some blue ink if you wish it to look like mine.”
I remembered the spear thrust I had suffered. I held my hand to my face and it came away bloody. “Thank you but no, I think one Jarl called Blue Scar is enough. I am happy to be the Dragonheart.”
“And the name is truly earned. Come, we will eat while my men clear the beach. I am glad that you stayed the night.”
“As am I.” I turned to the Ulfheonar closest to me, “Snorri, have some men go to Erik and fetch over my drekar.”
His thralls had prepared food and we ate in the hall while we awaited my drekar. Thorfinn Blue Scar insisted upon rewarding us. He brought out a golden torc from a chest he kept in his hall. It was an ancient piece of gold. I had seen others just like it. They came from the tribes who lived in the north of the land before the Romans had come.
“It is said that this torc was worn by a warrior queen of a tribe called the Brigante. My men found it in the cave of a witch on the island of Grimsay. She began to curse them and they killed her. I would not give such a gift away for it was cursed. But you have a galdramenn. Perhaps he can divine if it is still cursed.”
I handed it to Aiden. For my own part I was not afraid for it was not the torc which had been cursed but the warriors who had killed her. Aiden examined it and closed his eyes as he did so. He held it tightly to his chest. A slight frown crossed his face. “There is no curse in the torc, Jarl. But the torc has many tales to tell.”
Thorfinn Blue Scar nodded, “That is the advantage of having a wizard, Jarl. I envy you not only your sword but the warriors and men you have around you.”
“We are brothers all.”
“I can see that.” He looked through the door of his hall and said, “I see your drekar approaches. Farewell. Consider me an ally and a friend now. We will trade, as I promised, and I will ensure that any news of your traitor reaches you. I will gather the oil and the seal skins for the arrival of your knarr.”
I clasped his arm, “May this be the beginning of a long friendship, Thorfinn Blue Scar.”
As we headed south Aiden was much taken with the torc. “This needs the minds of both Kara and myself. Perhaps Elfrida too. This was worn by a woman and her spirit resides within. It is ancient and has stories buried deep within it.”
I left him to it. Haaken approached me, “We made little from the fight, Jarl. We might only have lost one Ulfheonar and two warriors but we do not go back rich.” He waved an arm at the new men. I could see that they were not as happy as they might have been. Those who had never sailed with me before looked especially unhappy.
“Would you have us raid?”
He brightened, “I could do with something stirring for a new saga. If we spy out something suitable then why not?”
I nodded. He was right. “Erik, keep us close to the coast and have Karl and Cnut Cnutson keep an eye out for a place to raid.”
Aiden placed the precious torc in his chest and brought his charts over. “I only have a little information about the places here in the islands. There was a monastery here, on the island of Hí but it was raided by Vikings and the monks fled to Hibernia.” His eye was drawn to a red dot on the chart. “Ah, that is interesting. Alt Clut.”
“What is that?” Haaken joined me as we looked over Aiden’s shoulders.
“It is a castle which is high on a cliff. I have heard the name before. You remember that wizard we heard of, Myrddyn or Merlin, he was there once.”
I nodded, “He was something to do with the warlord was he not? The one who was my ancestor?”
“Aye he was. Well I read in some of the writings we found in Ynys Mon that he stayed there and they were attacked by the men of Northumbria. He used magic to defeat them. It is said he flew from the tower and their enemies fled in fear.”
“That does not mean there will be treasure there. That is just a story, Aiden. I cannot believe that a man could fly”
I looked to the south east, “True Haaken but perhaps we were meant to go there.”
“But you go for a legend! A story of magic!”
“You of all people should know the value of such stories. Your sagas will be sung long after we are in Valhalla. Does that mean they are not true? Was not my sword touched by the Gods yet will men believe that in the future? I would see this rock and this castle. We will be cautious but I believe we were meant to visit.”
Erik said, “What course do I sail?”
Aiden suddenly jumped as though he had been stung. “We are meant to go there, Jarl.” He jabbed the map with his finger. We have to sail south, then north and then east. But we have to sail close to Dyrøy. It is one of the lairs of Magnus the Foresworn.”
Even Haaken could not argue, “It is wyrd!”
We reached the island of Dyrøy just after noon. It was as Thorfinn had said, a desolate and bare island. We saw a settlement and we pulled ashore. It was deserted. The bones which littered the ruined huts could have been animal or human. Importantly, there was no sign of a palisade or a ditch. Magnus must have chosen it for its isolation.
I turned to Aiden. “There is a large rock there fetch it over.” As he did so I said to Haaken, “We will leave a message for Magnus the Foresworn. Mark on the stone that Jarl Dragonheart was here and no place is safe for him. Tell him we will hunt him down.”
Haaken used his seax to carve out the runes on the flat piece of stone. He had almost finished when the blade slipped and cut into his palm. Blood flowed over the message. Aiden nodded approvingly. “We could not have left a better message. It is written in blood. He will understand the meaning now.”
The whole crew set to rowing with more heart once they heard what had happened. It was obvious that Haaken had been meant to cut his hand. It was no accident. The Norns and the Gods were on our side. None now feared what we might find. Whatever danger we faced they would deal with it. The younger warriors were particularly excited. This was the sort of story they had heard when growing up. They would be in a saga which might become a Viking legend. That guaranteed a warrior’s immortality. Even if they died their names would live on in the stories which would be told.
We did not reach the mouth of the River Clut until after dark. We only knew it was the river when one of the ship’s boys risked a handful of water. It was not salty. The chart was not clear and we were wary of grounding but Aiden found a channel which ran north. We were seeking somewhere to hide. We passed a huddle of huts around a small church just a short way up this wide water. It looked to be silent and no one saw us. We pulled around a bend in the river. Snorri and Beorn the Scout slipped over the side while the rest of us pulled the drekar under the shelter of some large willows which overhung the fresh water.
“Do we camp, Jarl?”
“We will wait, Erik, until our scouts return.”
The two of them were away a short time. “There are eight families who live in the huts. We heard no dogs. They have a church.”
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“Then we camp here. We eat and get some sleep. When dawn breaks we will take this village and then find out who commands in this Alt Clut.”
As the men headed ashore I looked south. I was looking beyond the river all the way to Wyddfa. The threads of my life all headed back to that mountain. The Norns had spun a strong web. I could not escape my destiny. Even when I was not seeking out my past, my past found me. Magnus the Foresworn would have to wait.
Chapter 3
Leaving just my ship’s boys and Erik to guard my ship we slipped down the river using the greenway which ran alongside it. Snorri and Beorn took four younger warriors to get around the far side of the tiny hamlet. The huts were so near they were almost in the water and I wondered if they suffered flooding. The greenway we used certainly felt soggy. Perhaps the advantages of being close to the river and the fishing outweighed the risks. We moved in a thin line. Ahead of us were archers with bows strung and arrows knocked. They would silence any who gave the alarm. The wind must have worked in our favour for none made a sound. As I passed the church I saw that it was made of stone. That promised riches within.
My men surrounded each hut and waited for my signal. I lowered my sword and they entered the roundhouses. There was noise then but the appearance of so many fierce warriors soon subdued them. When they were brought from the huts they stood in terrified family groups. The men placed themselves before their wives and children as though they might protect them.
I waved Aiden forward. He spoke their language. It was the same one he had spoken as a child. “Find the headman and bring him here.”
It did not take long for the headman was not afraid of us. Hatred burned in his eyes. “Ask him his name.”
