by Griff Hosker
Our appearance startled them. Perhaps they thought I had brought my whole army. I smiled to myself as that idea was born. Rædwulf and his mounted men abandoned the foot and galloped for the bridge over the Wear.
I laughed, “Come, let us see if we can make these Saxons fill their breeks!”
The men I led were the best that I had. They saw this as an opportunity for glory and honour. We had yet to be defeated and what we saw before us was unlikely to do so. We dug our heels in our mounts. The exception was Haraldr who just slapped the rump of his horse with his mighty ham-like hands. The panic amongst the Saxons was clearly visible. None wished to be caught by Vikings. The press at the bridge was such that I saw men falling into the waters of the Wear. The gates of the citadel lay open. If I had had an army with me then I might have been able to capture it. They slammed them shut leaving thirty of the fyrd cowering outside.
We reined in close to the bridge. Saxons did not have many archers but if we had gone any closer might have risked an arrow from the few that they had. I took off my helmet and drank some ale. “Give the horses water. Haaken, Olaf, fetch those sacks.”
It was almost laughable. The fyrd who cowered were on their knees praying to their god to save them. My men were laughing and attending to our horses. We reached the far side of the bridge. We were just two hundred paces from the walls. They were only wooden but they were still a barrier. I saw Rædwulf on the fighting platform.
I cupped my hands and shouted, in Saxon, “Rædwulf, you came to my land to make war on my people. You are not a king but you would be one.” I waved my arms and Haaken and Olaf opened the sacks and emptied the bloody skulls on the ground before us. I saw the priests on the walls make the sign of the cross. “These were the brave warriors you sacrificed. My men thank you for their mail and their swords. They make us stronger and the deaths of these make you weaker.”
I waited. I was in no hurry. The longer his men stared at the heads without Rædwulf speaking made his position more desperate.
“What is it you want, Viking?”
I pointed behind me, vaguely to the west. “I have an army which has enjoyed a great victory over Saxons who came treacherously to make war. They are keen to continue that war. They wish to make Northumbria a wasteland.”
When he spoke, I could hear the fear in his voice, “What do I need to do to make peace with you?”
I spread my arms, “We Vikings have something called weregeld. Your people, when they were warriors, had the same thing. We wish payment for the dead and as a punishment for your raid. We want thirty horses and five hundred gold pieces. You have until the sun begins to set.” I took out my sword and pointed it at the walls, “Those of your men who escaped the slaughter on the Eden will tell you of the wolves who came in the night. If night falls and no payment is forthcoming then,” I swept my sword to the west, “the wolves will come and we will enter your walls. None will be spared. Your church will be destroyed. Your warriors will be butchered. Your priests will be crucified and your women and children enslaved. It is your choice. It is your decision. Our blades have not yet tasted enough blood.”
I saw the priests and thegns close by speaking with him. Haaken said, “Clever Jarl Dragonheart. He thinks our men are beyond the hill in the forest.”
“I am not foresworn. I did not say so.”
He laughed, “As I said, this is why you lead this clan!”
Rædwulf held up his hands, “You give your word that you will leave when we pay you?”
“I do but if you ever come again then the next time there will be no payment! There will be fire and there will be blood. The great divide marks the edge of your land. Any Saxon warrior found on our side will be given the blood eagle. What say you?”
“I say that I will not allow my men west of the high divide.”
“Good. We will wait beyond the bridge.” My men cheered as we returned to them. “Take off the saddles and rest the horses. Rest yourselves. We will leave after dark. I do not think that they will try anything but it is better to be careful. We have achieved that which I wished. Your lands, Ketil Windarsson, are safe.”
As we made our way to the horses Ketil said, “And I have learned a lesson, Jarl Dragonheart. I thought I had been vigilant. I was not. We will not be content to wait for enemies to sneak into our land, we will guard our borders.”
Rædwulf kept his word but I noticed that he did not come himself with the horses and bags of coins. He sent ten of the fyrd and four priests. The priests kept hold of their crosses. One had a strange looking staff. I discovered from Atticus that it was called a crozier. They scowled at us but did not say a word. We saddled the new horses and loaded the bags onto the spares. We headed west into the setting sun. With fresh horses and using the Roman Road, we were able to make fifteen miles before we needed to camp. It meant we reached Pennryhd before dark, the next day. I gave half of the ransom to Jarl Ketil Windarsson and Jarl Ráðulfr Ulfsson. I also left them half of the horses. Haraldr and Aðils’ horses were waiting for us at Pennryhd. Jarl Ráðulfr Ulfsson had realised that Haraldr needed his mighty beast to carry him. We celebrated our victory at the Stad on the Eden. I did not begrudge the young warriors the drunken night. They had earned it. I saw and drank sparingly.
My small band of Ulfheonar and Haraldr Leifsson left for my home the next day. I was weary. I was getting too old for such travelling. I needed my steam hut and I needed to bathe. I wanted to sleep in my own hall.
We bade farewell to Beorn, Aðils and Haraldr north of Cyninges-tūn. I knew that Beorn would never fight as Ulfheonar again. He would lead men but the wolf cloak would remain in his chest. Aðils, too, was keen to stay on his farm in the dale. It was almost as though this was the end of something. I would now have but four Ulfheonar who would go to war with me. I was aware that Rolf and Rollo now had families. When would the call of their loved ones outweigh the lure of the raid?
Ragnar had sent my share of the treasure to my hall. I distributed half of it amongst my people. The ones who had lost warriors were given more. The money would not compensate for the loss; it would never do that. It was there to make sure that they lived as well as possible.
Atticus fussed over me. He saw the nicks and damage to my mail and shook his head. He knew that such damage could have led to a wound, “You are the leader, lord! Others should fight.”
“And they do but I lead.”
“You are strange people. In the land of the Empire when a warrior becomes successful and older he commands others. He sits on a horse and waved his sword to direct them where he wants them to go.”
“I am content.”
And I was. Atticus had, while I had been in Frisia and in the north, made my home more comfortable. I wondered what old Ragnar would have thought. His mountain top hut had been just one small room with a bed for him and a shelf for me. He also expressed a desire to come to Bruggas with me. Atticus had had wall hangings made which kept the hall warmer and brightened it up. He had had women make cushions so that my chair was now almost as comfortable as my bed. He was a thoughtful servant.
“There are things there, lord, which we need. You have almost run out of spices. A man cannot live without pepper, cloves, nutmeg and the other spices. You have coin!” He acted as a moneyer for me. He knew to the groat how much I had. He had even suggested that we mint our own coins with a wolf on them. “I am certain that the Saxon moneyers cheat us. I have examined the coins we were paid and not all are true metal. Some have other metals in them!”
We all knew it went on. Others would nick a piece from a coin. It was hardly noticeable unless someone else nicked a piece. I thought he was right but it seemed like a lot of hard work and we did not need it. He had my mail repaired for me and new seal skin boots made. My travels and the sea had worn them out. He had a full-sized seal skin cloak made for me. He did not wish me to suffer in the winter storms. We would be travelling to Bruggas at the end of Þorri. He was fussy but he was right.
The nex
t moons flew by. Ragnar and Gruffyd raided the Welsh and brought back sheep and wheat. We had Samhain and then Yule. I visited my family at Whale Island and Kara and Aiden dreamed for me. They still warned me of the slaughter of the Vikings. I wondered how I would get out of joining Hvitserk Ragnarsson. Part of me hoped he would not get enough ships and I would be saved the embarrassment of refusing to lead them. When I visited Ragnar and Gruffyd, at Yule, I saw Erik Short Toe and had him prepare my drekar for the voyage. I would not need warriors. I needed rowers and so, apart from Olaf and Haaken, who insisted on accompanying me, I sailed with those who had goods to trade. Raibeart Ap Pasgen wished to come too.
As winter was upon us Atticus and I travelled down two days before we were due to sail. That meant I had time with my son, grandson and great grandsons. As we were just trading and there would be no raid I wondered if the boys would still wish to travel with me. They did. I saw both Astrid and Ebrel as the boys affirmed their decision. I said, “I am willing to take you but only if your mothers agree. It is winter and the seas can be dangerous. And of course, you will be able to have lessons from Atticus as he will be sailing with us.” I wondered if the threat of studies might have put them off but it did not.
The three of them pleaded with their mothers who had, of course, little choice in the matter. Travelling in the harsh seas of winter meant a different sort of preparation. They needed seal skins boots and capes. We would be sleeping on deck and so they would need good blankets too. They were all excited but I knew that Sámr had some idea of the hardships we would face. He counselled the other two and I saw the first signs of the man he would become. As there was no rush to reach Bruggas for the ransom would be waiting for us no matter what, Erik waited until we had winds from the north. That meant that the Land of the Wolf would be covered in a blanket of snow. The winds came from the far north and always brought snow. For all but our crew that would mean staying in the halls and occupying themselves with all the tasks that waited for winter; carving fish hooks from bones, sewing, making handles for axes and swords, adding adornments to helmets and mail, repairing shields and, of course, making more Vikings!
As we were using our sails Mordaf and Ulla War Cry were thrown into the art of sailing immediately. Sámr came into his own. Along with Lars Long Nose, they offered advice and help. They warned of dangers. By the time the sails were set to the satisfaction of Erik Short Toe, half a morning had gone and we were passing Man. If the gods were kind then they would not be needed again until we came close to the coast of Ynys Môn. Sámr made them don their new seal skin capes and ordered them to take shelter beneath the awning which had been rigged over the mast fish.
Ulla War Cry did not take kindly to being ordered around, “Who are you, Sámr Ragnarsson to tell me what to do?”
Sámr stood over his little brother, “I am, along with Lars, the senior ship’s boy and what are you, Ulla War Cry? Until you learn how to climb the mast in a storm then you are a piece of cordage without a purpose.”
Ulla looked at me and I shook my head, “Do not look at me. I am jarl on this voyage and besides Sámr is right. You begged to come on this voyage and that means, until you learn to be useful then everyone can tell you what to do. Sámr had to endure this on his first voyage. No one made you come. Now that we are set on our course there is no turning back. You have made this decision and you have to live with it. That is how you become a man. Those who fail and cannot live with the choices they make are nithings.”
Atticus, shivering beneath two cloaks and a blanket, shook his head, “You breed hard men, lord.”
“If a boy survives a couple of voyages then he is almost ready to become a warrior. If he fails, or, as sometimes happens, dies, then that is the Allfather’s way of saying he was not a Viking.”
“And I thought my life as a slave was hard. It was nothing compared with this.” He pointed to the mast. “I would not go up there on a sunny day, on dry land, with the aid of a ladder! Yet they shin up with the ship pitching over that black and unforgiving sea.”
I smiled, “Aye, and you are Greek. Your seas are benign. Your storms are like the showers of Einmánuður in the Land of the Wolf. If we are to survive in these seas then that is what we must do. The Allfather made us Vikings by putting us in the harshest land that there is. That is why we go to Valhalla and you do not.”
We stayed at the Puffin Island. The boys enjoyed collecting their eggs. We ate well. Atticus was more interested in the monastery perched high above the sea. “These are not like the monks I saw in Cent.”
“No, these are simple men who honour their god by their devotion and prayers. We leave them alone for they are not greedy. They do not seek power. I admire them for they live where life must be hard. They are the closest men to Vikings that I have seen in the world of the White Christ.”
We sailed south and crossed the mouth of the Sabrina. We skirted the rocky coast of Om Walum. The wind was in our favour and all was going well. Perhaps we were complacent. It was winter but the winds were aiding us. We grew confident. We talked of our destination and we forgot our journey. It was as we were about to begin rowing that the winds died and, worse, fog began to rise from the sea like smoke. Ulla War Cry, Sámr and Mordaf had to earn their berth for Erik could see nothing. With the rowers just keeping our way, we picked our way east. We only had one man to an oar. We were not going to war and the ship had a half empty feel.
It was Ulla War Cry who made the mistake. He shouted, “White water!” He was clinging to the forestay. A wave or perhaps a Norn made the drekar pitch. Ulla might have been excited to have reported the white water or he may just have been unlucky, but he slipped from the stay and into the sea. I was frozen but his brother was not. Sámr threw off his sea boots and dived into the sea. Both boys could swim but Ulla had on his sea boots which threatened to drag him down.
As he disappeared I yelled, “Back oars!”
Lars Long Nose grabbed a length of rope and secured one end around the mast. Holding the other end, he peered over the side. The white water meant rocks. The sea currents were making us bob up and down and, in the murk of the fog it was hard to see anything. Suddenly he shouted, “I see Ulla War Cry! Catch the rope!”
He hurled the rope and I peered into the grey, white flecked swirling sea. I saw my great grandson. He looked tiny. I clutched the dragon around my neck. In my head I intoned, ‘Erika, save your great grandsons. They are beyond my reach. Save them. ’ I opened my eyes as there was a cheer. I saw that Ulla had grabbed the end of the rope and was being hauled on board. His boots were gone. I looked for Sámr and, of him, there was no sign. As Ulla was dragged on board Atticus came and threw a blanket around him. I picked up the blanket draped boy. He looked so tiny. He was too young to be at sea.
He was coughing and spluttering. He had swallowed sea water. I shouted, “Look for Sámr! He will be close by!”
Atticus said, “Put him on the deck lord and on his side. I will get the water from within him.”
I did as Atticus said. I saw that his eyes were closed and he was no longer moving. Atticus put him on his side and began to massage his back whilst pulling at his middle. Suddenly Ulla convulsed and, coughing, brought up sea water. He retched and vomited and then began to cry. I picked him up and held him close to me. It was as though he was a bairn once more. I rubbed his back and began to speak into his ear, “You are safe. Njoror did not want you. You are safe.”
His sobs gradually subsided and he said, “Where is Sámr? He saved me. He dived beneath me to take off my boots.”
I said, quietly, “We are still seeking him. He is a good swimmer. He will surprise us yet.”
Gradually the fog dissipated. The grey murk of mist was replaced by the bright blue sky of a chilly Einmánuður afternoon. The water was as still as the icy Water of my home in the depths of winter. The crew lined the side. Ulla shouted, forlornly, “Sámr! Sámr! Sámr!” I put my arm around him.
Erik Short Toe came down the ship, “Jarl Dragonh
eart, I do not like to be the one to say it but he is gone. He is in the Otherworld.”
I closed my eyes and tried to picture him. If he was gone then Erika would appear. She would be with the spirit of Sámr. They would put my mind at rest. Neither would allow me to be tormented. Nothing came into my head. “No Erik, we search until dark.”
He nodded, “And that will not take long, Jarl Dragonheart. The afternoon is fading fast.”
I walked to the other side of the drekar. I could see, in the distance, the small islands and large rocks which made up this land. We were close to Syllingar! Suddenly there was a cry, almost a scream, from the bow. I ran, fearing that someone had seen Sámr’s beaten body. Instead I saw a terrified Lars Long Nose. He was pointing ahead, “Jarl Dragonheart I swear I saw a rock rise from the ocean and look there is an island. See the smoke which comes from it. This is magic.”
Atticus had joined us, “No, Lars. There was some fog lingering there. The afternoon sun has burned it away. Islands cannot rise from the sea.”
I did not contradict Atticus. In a way he was right. The island had been hidden but it had been hidden by the power of the witch who lived there. I knew where Sámr was. Haaken, Olaf, Raibeart and Erik joined me. I saw, even on the face of Olaf Leather Neck, the most fearless warrior I knew, horror etched in every line.
Haaken stroked his white hair, “Dragonheart if he is there….”
“Then the witch wants her revenge. We should have made a blót. Kara should have made a spell of protection but all that is in the past. It is too late. I must go to the island and face her.” I turned, “When Sámr returns then you must leave.”
