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The Land of the Northmen

Page 7

by Griff Hosker


  He was in too much pain to say anything but I saw hatred in his eyes. I had made an enemy. I was a Viking and that came as no surprise. As we headed towards the carts and the river Hugo Strong Arm said, “You have a fine young cockerel for a son, lord. Ragnvald held his own against men!”

  “That is good to hear but do not say so in the presence of his mother. She would not understand.” My men laughed and, riding next to me, I saw Ragnvald sit a little taller in the saddle.

  “I think that we will have to make do with this stone, Hrolf. We risk breaking the peace if we remain.” Father Michael was unhappy. I could tell he blamed himself for this. He had brought us here and it had caused deaths.

  “The peace means nothing if I cannot trade. We might as well be at war but we are only here for the stone. If you are content, then we can return.”

  He seemed relieved, “We can call at that first quarry and buy the inferior stone. We now have enough facing stone for the tower and the church. We can augment that which we buy with God’s bounty from the beach. It is only for infill.”

  Once again, we unloaded the stone from the carts. As this was dressed stone it was slightly easier. To make them easier to lift, Father Michael had each block laid upon a thick branch so that there was a gap beneath for the ropes. After paying the men we waited for the knarr. It came, again just before dark, but as we already had the block and tackle with us Father Michael was ready to load as soon as they arrived. It was late when we finished but it meant we could leave before dawn.

  I pointed to the knarr, “Father Michael, there may be danger. You go in the knarr.”

  “No, Hrolf. I am a man of God and I may be able to intervene if there is trouble.”

  After arranging to meet the knarr close to the first quarry we had found we headed back along the greenway. This time we could take the greenway which ran next to the river and, as the current worked in the knarr’s favour, our ship soon overtook us. They would build the camp this time. As we were not returning the same way we had come we encountered no enemies. The people we met moved out of our way for they saw we were armed and mailed. Such men were to be avoided. I saw Father Michael’s face and he was disturbed.

  “Speak Father Michael. Do not keep your words in your head for they will fester and rot there. Speak them and give them air. I will not be offended by whatever you say.”

  “We could have come with fewer men who were not mailed. That way we would have avoided trouble.”

  “In my experience, such an action invites even more trouble. I brought twenty men so that the men we met would not be foolish enough to take us on. Raymond of Bouquetot was a foolish young man and he has paid. If I had had fewer men, the result would have been the same but my men might have been hurt. This way is better.”

  “For you.”

  I nodded, “I am not a Christian, Father. I do not think of my fellow man. I think of my clan. I owe them loyalty and not mankind in general. I like you but do not try to change our nature. You will fail. I will not fall out with you over this. I know that you say what you say out of kindness. My people are rarely treated with kindness. I was enslaved by the Franks and my family slain. I saw no Christian charity then. We were pagans and barbarians. You cannot have it both ways.”

  The priest was a clever man and I saw him absorb my words. We passed no more strongholds and when we reached the meeting point with my knarr I saw that they had already built the camp. The quarry was the closest to the river and, while Father Michael set up his rudimentary crane I went to buy the sandstone. The quarryman had not expected us back and we paid a lower price than he had first asked. This time the knarr was loaded before dark.

  As we ate I said, “Father Michael, I would have you return with the stone. You will be home before us and can begin work. It will take some time to unload the knarr.” The ship was, indeed, heavily laden. It was lucky that they only had a hundred miles to travel and that would be along the coast.

  The priest nodded his agreement. “But you had best be careful. Remember Carentan lies ahead of you. I will not be there as mediator.”

  “I remember. Do not worry about me, Father.”

  The Allfather laughs at us. You normally know this for the skies fill with the tears he cries from laughing so much. Even as we headed west the skies began to fill with black clouds which then began to drop spring rain upon us. It was the kind of rain which farmers love. It makes the ground fertile and crops grow. It was the kind of rain which warriors hate for it makes their mail rust. It chafed shoulders and made for an unpleasant journey. We pulled our cloaks tighter about us and the hoods over our helmets. Alain of Auxerre grumbled, “Without the priest, lord, we will have poor shelter for the night. Perhaps we should have kept him with us.”

  “It is a test sent by the Allfather.”

  “It is a punishment sent by God.”

  “Punishment for what?”

  He shrugged, “I know not. We should ask the priests. They say we are born sinful. It is easier to sin than not to.”

  Ragnvald laughed, “Then become a pagan! We have no sins do we father?”

  “My son is right. So long as you live by a code then the Allfather will not hurt you.”

  “And this rain?”

  “As I said, it is a test to see if we are worthy warriors. And I daresay the Norns have a hand in this. Do not be surprised by anything which happens between here and our home!”

  We took a more direct route home. Our shelter that first night was an abandoned farm. It was on a small hill and the flooded fields around us showed us why it had been abandoned. It was prone to flooding. We ate cold fare but as we had had the luxury of hot food hitherto we did not mind. Most of us cleaned our mail as best we could. It would need serious work when we returned to our home but our actions would minimise the damage.

  The rain continued all night. The flooding became more severe and, as we approached the river close to Carentan we saw that the land was flooded. Alain said, “We will have to go further upstream, lord.” We could not see Carentan for the low cloud and rain obscured it but the valley was flooded. The bridge itself might be under water.

  The detour took us through land we had not seen before. We came up the western side of the valley. We struggled to find a dry route. The rain was relentless. Had it stopped we might have carried on but there was no point in risking injury to the horses. Dream Strider was no longer a colt. We spied no buildings but we came upon a wood. They were oak trees and they were ancient. Their huge boles suggested they had been here when the Romans had invaded. Perhaps the ancient priests, called the druids, had worshipped here for mistletoe grew abundantly in oak forests. However, I chose the forest for the canopy would keep off the worst of the rain and if we used our cloaks we could make a shelter to keep us dry.

  I think the Allfather directed us. I believe he sent the rains to flood the valley and drive us into a part of the world we had never visited. We found an open area of ground. The trees were huge and old. The canopy covered the open ground. It looked as though someone had cleared the smaller sapling and bushes. It was lucky that it was spring and the new leaves had grown. Alain of Nissa was charged with lighting the fire. He called over to me, “Jarl Hrolf, there has been a fire here before. Someone has put stones around it. The ground is black and dry. This place is used by Franks.”

  “Then we will keep a watch tonight.”

  With the fire going we began to dry out our sodden cloaks and blankets. We heated some water and put in thyme and rosemary. I had a jar of honey and I poured some of that in too. When we drank its warmth soon made us all feel more content. My warriors spoke of the men we had fought. “You know Jarl Hrolf, that would have been us before we met you. We fought without mail. We despatched as easily as we have ever seen off an enemy. They were ready for us too. Now that all my men have hauberks and byrnies I wonder how we survived without them.”

  “Look at your horses, Alain of Auxerre. They are bigger than the ones you first used and the Fran
ks used. It needs a bigger horse to carry a mailed man. We are not Franks.”

  “No, Jarl Hrolf, you are right. I do not feel like a Frank. Nor am I Norse.”

  Ragnvald said, “We are none of us Norse or Frank. We are Northmen. We live in the land of the north.”

  Günter of Swabia shook his head, “How did you get so wise, young Ragnvald?”

  Stephen of Andecavis said, “I think he is the fruit of a Frank and a Norse. He truly is the first Northman. Perhaps that gift gives him this wisdom.”

  We talked a little while longer and then, as the rain stopped and our cloaks and blankets dried we turned in to sleep. I insisted on taking a watch and Alain of Nissa woke me and Ragnvald in the dark of night. “We can watch for you, lord.”

  “No Alain, we are all in this together. It will do my son good to stand a watch. How goes the night?”

  “Quiet save for the owls, foxes and rats.”

  Ragnvald shivered, “I was having a pleasant dream. I was slaughtering Franks.”

  I laughed, “Well now we watch to make sure that the Franks do not slaughter us in our sleep.”

  “Are there any close by?”

  “We know not this land and the fire tells me that people use this place. Now eat something and then use your ears. Sentries who talk often find their throats are cut.”

  “What do I listen for?”

  “The sounds that should not be here. You sit and I will walk through the forest. I was trained by Ulf Big Nose and I have hunted with the Ulfheonar. I may not have their skills but I am quieter than most.”

  Although the rain had stopped drops of water still permeated slowly from the branches above. They splashed down on the ground and on my head. I stepped into the dark forest. I watched where I put my feet and I listened. I also used the sense Ulf Big Nose had said was the most effective, my nose. I sniffed and, after a few paces detected something which was not animal. It was human and it was not us. I knew how to discriminate between our smell and that of others. It was to do with the food we ate and the life we led. My men smelled of leather and horses, pickled fish and beer. Norse did not smell of horses and Franks did not smell of pickled fish and beer.

  This smell was neither. I drew my seax and headed deeper into the trees. The roots were the most dangerous part. A trip would alert whoever it was. The smell intrigued me for I could not place it. As I moved deeper I heard voices. There was a camp ahead of me. The ground was falling away and, I guessed, led to water. It was then I realised that I was following a trail. It went from the fire we had found to the stream. I spied a rock and crept to hide in its shadow. I wished to listen.

  The people were speaking a form of Frank but it had some of the words I had heard spoken in the Land of the Wolf by the people of Coen Ap Pasgen. It was different but I wondered if these people were related to the ancient people of Britannia. The voices were mainly female but there was at least one man’s voice and two of youths; they were slightly higher pitched. The more I listened, the more I understood. I discovered they were talking about us. It seemed we had taken the place they used as a camp and were unhappy for they were wet. The youthful voices were all for creeping up and slitting our throats. The older voice, the man, argued against it, “They are warriors and they wear mail. We risk death or slavery if we try anything. We will get a little wet but in the morning, they will leave.”

  A female voice spoke, “They do not look like Franks. They have big horses and they do not have the sign of Carentan. Perhaps they may help us.”

  A youthful voice said aggressively, “No one helps us! We help ourselves. We slew the monster who used our women and fled here four summers since. We trust no one again!”

  I was about to move when I heard the woman again. She had a strong voice and I sensed that she was the one who held this small clan together, “We have buried four more this winter. My young Aed is close to death and, unless he gets food soon he will die. What use is our freedom if we are all dead? Perhaps the priest at the church of St. Mary might help.”

  The older man’s voice sounded bitter, “He is the paid priest of that bastard, Henry of Carentan! It was his brother we slew and he will never rest until we are dead. If the rain had not come when it did, then his hunters would have found us. We may have a cold night but it has kept the hunters from us. We will wait until these strangers have gone and then light our fire again.”

  I had heard enough and I rose. I walked around the rock and stepped into the circle. I took in that there were twelve. The two boys and the man drew daggers and stood before the younger ones. The woman, I guessed it was her voice I had heard, did not move.

  “I mean you no harm. I am not a Frank and you are right I do not follow the lord of Carentan. Come back to your fire for we have food and we would share it with you.”

  One of the young boys, he was of an age with Ragnvald, suddenly lunged forward with his dagger. It was a clumsy blow and I was wearing mail. My hand whipped out and I grabbed his wrist and then disarmed him. I threw the dagger to his feet. “If I wanted you dead then you would be. I am Jarl Hrolf of the clan of the horse. I do not lie. I offer you food and warmth. You can choose to believe me or young Aed can die here for lack of food. It is your choice.” I looked at the three who had weapons and almost dared them to strike me. Then I turned my back and walked back up the slope.

  The boy who I disarmed shouted, “Let us flee before he brings the others!”

  The man said, “Tadgh, you are a fool! He could have killed you, me and Gurth. We could have done nothing about it. What say you Seara?”

  “I say we have little to lose. We go to his fire. We take his food and then see what happens. We can be no worse off.” I smiled as I heard feet following me up the slope.

  As I neared the camp I shouted, “Ragnvald, rouse the camp, we have company. There is no danger. Keep your swords sheathed.” I spoke in Norse so as not to alarm our erstwhile guests.

  My men were awake by the time I reached the camp. Alain looked at me as though I had gone mad, “You are bringing people here, lord?”

  “They are not Franks. From their speech, they are from the land of the Breton. We have food and they are both cold and hungry. We took their camp.”

  I went to the fire and added another log. My men had moved away. The woman, Seara, led the children and young women towards the fire. In the light, I could see that she was not as old as her voice had suggested. She had seen, perhaps, twenty odd summers. There were four girls who were a little younger. The rest were children. The man carried a young boy. I guessed it was Aed.

  “Stephen, get them some food. Ragnvald, make a herb and honey brew. There should be enough honey left in the jar.” I waved to them. “Sit by the fire. Your needs are greater than mine.”

  I saw that the two young men were still wary. They had to be ushered towards the fire by the elder man. My men took food around to them. It was the last of our supplies but we would be able to get to Valognes by the next afternoon. The needs of this band were more important. It would take some time for Ragnvald to make the herb and honey brew. I sat by the woman called Seara. The man had placed the sick child in her arms and she was feeding him. She tore pieces of salted meat into thin strips and gave them to him.

  Without looking up she said, “Why do you do this? Is it to make us slaves again?”

  “No. We will leave tomorrow and, if you wish it, we will never see you again.”

  “Your words ‘if you wish it’ suggest that there is an alternative.”

  “There may be but first I would hear you story. You are neither Franks nor Saxons. From your words and your accent, I would say you are from the land of the Bretons.”

  “We are. Do you know it?”

  “My people lived for a time on the island which lies close to An Orient.”

  Her eyes widened, “You are a Viking.”

  “I am. So, tell me your tale.”

  “We lived in a village close to the border with Frankia. We had a lord. Following the wa
r between the Count and the Franks our village was attacked. Our lord was slain and we were all enslaved. Then there were sixty of us. What you see are the remains. We were taken to Baupte. The lord there was a kind man but he died a month after we arrived. We were given a new lord. It was the youngest brother of Henry Lord of Carentan. Lord Robert was an evil youth. He punished any wrong doing severely. We could have lived with that but he took to using the young girls and boys.” She shook her head. “I will not speak of it. A few of the families tried to escape. He had them brought back and crucified. It could not go on. Six months after he came we rose and slew him and his guards. They were as bad as he was. Those that survived fled. We managed to find this wood and we have hidden here for four years. Every year more children and the old die. We eke out a living by picking wild plants and hunting animals. We might have gone on had not Odo there seen that they had hunters looking for us. He led us away from their search and then the rains came.”

  Ragnvald brought around the honey and herb concoction. The woman gave some to Aed first. She smiled at me. “This is my sister’s son. She died two years since and my children died last winter. He is all I have left. I would not like to lose him too. What is it that you can do for us?”

  “I would say that slavery might be preferable to the parlous existence you have. However, I offer something different. You call me a Viking. It is true I am Norse but I live in this land now.” I pointed north. “North of here anyway. We have people who were Franks. The men I have here come from Burgundy. We have land and I can offer you and your people farms. You will have to work the land yourselves or perhaps fish but it is a hope at least.”

  The youth, Tadgh, shook his head, “He lies.”

  I turned on him, “Boy, I have told you before I do not lie. What would the lie gain me?”

  He looked confused, “You would make us slaves!”

  Odo burst out laughing, “Tadgh you have courage but you do not have the wit of a turd! Look around! There are twenty-two mailed and armed warriors. If this lord wanted us as slaves, then we would be fettered already.” He shook his head, “Lord, I will take you up on the offer. My daughter and grandson, Aed, will also take you up and I will speak for all those save the brothers Tadgh and Gurth. We will take the hope you offer. It is a new start and you have answered our prayers.”

 

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