The Land of the Northmen

by Griff Hosker

  In two strokes the Jarl was felled

  Hrolf's sword nobly held

  Hrolf the Horseman with gleaming blade

  Hrolf the Horseman all enemies slayed

  We kept a good watch as we headed south. The Saxon women keened and cried. The animals we had taken added to the cacophony of noise which still did not dampen the song the men sang. We had lost few men and we had grain and captives. We would sail home and decide which captives we would sell. I needed no more slaves but others did. They could take slaves in lieu of other treasure although most of the booty was food and animals. There had been coins but these were not Arabs. There was some silver and the church had had some valuable items but this raid had been more about allowing the crew of the ‘Wild Boar’ to pay homage to their dead. We had done that.

  I could see that Father Michael was less than happy with the slaves we had brought. They were Christians. However, when the masons said they needed slaves to help with the building of the church and tower, he became slightly happier. He would be able to care for them. I did not mind. It meant we paid the masons less as the price of the slaves came off the money they charged me. Siggi sailed to Dorestad with Folki’s men and they sold the excess slaves and holy books. Our coin was growing and every warrior was more prosperous. We called in at Dorestad. Gunter of Brabant was true to his word and he paid us a good price for the captives. We could have sailed our grain and animals too but they were for our people. They would feed our burgeoning clan over the winter.

  The men of the ‘Wild Boar’ wished to have farms. We had plenty of land but the growth meant that we now had farms which were within ten miles of Ċiriċeburh. I was not worried. No one farmed where my warriors went. It had been empty land. Every warrior helped to clear the trees and build the halls. With fifty men working we could clear the land and build a hall in two days. The halls were not big. They would accommodate just a family and their animals but, with a ditch around them and a small palisade, they were secure. One or two farmed alone but brothers and cousins would often farm together. Family was important to the clan. To the men who had arrived with Jarl Thorbolt it was even more important. Most of the men had taken women. Some had married the widows of dead warriors and had an instant family. The time before Yule was busy. Winters were less harsh here but, even so, work stopped after Samhain. All work, that is, save for the building work.

  The masons divided their time between the tower and the church. Once Father Michael had set them off on the tower he concentrated his own efforts on his church. He would make it a beautiful structure. The tower was both functional and military. The tower rose by one course of blocks each day. The new slaves actually made the work go faster. They were placed in the treadmill crane and released slightly more skilled men to mix the limestone mortar and to aid the masons. The faster they could build the sooner it would be finished.

  Satisfied that all was well I rode with Ragnvald and Alain of Auxerre and his men to Ċiriċeburh. I did not want conflict to arise from the new farms. I could see no reason why it should. We farmed virgin land. But I would not hide from the lord of Ċiriċeburh. It was important to be honest. We rode with our shields slung and our helmets on our saddles. It was a sign that we meant peace. The farms of the Franks were all within sight of the walls of that town. They feared us. At this time of year all farms had a desolate look to them. These however, looked particularly, run down. The crops had been harvested and animals grazed on the stubble. The animals looked thin. Soon the slaughter of the excess animals would begin and the bone fires would be lit.

  The lord was an old warrior. William of Ċiriċeburh had been appointed, not by the Count, but by King Louis himself. The king did not want a belligerent lord who might arouse his new neighbours. He wanted to have us as sleeping dogs. He wished to let us lie. William and I got on. I had not spoken to him often over the years but we respected each other and he was content to coexist. We were granted entry through the wooden walls and gates. He only had eight warriors in the garrison. Had we wished to take it then it would have been simplicity itself. However, I had given my word and I would not break it.

  I dismounted and clasped the old lord’s arm in the handshake of a warrior. “A surprise visit, Jarl Hrolf.”

  “Courtesy, Lord William. I have farmers who have cleared part of the forest to make farms. It is a little closer to your land. I came here to say that this is not an act of aggression. We farm that which is forest.”

  He frowned, “Those forests belong to the king. Only he has the right to clear timber and to hunt.”

  “And, as you now, I acknowledge no king. I am happy to keep the peace but the Allfather gave the trees and the animals for us to use wisely. The farms are ten miles from here. There is nothing between them the farms close by.”

  “And how soon before you clear those woods until you are within sight of my walls?”

  “Your people, the Franks could clear the forests. They could build farms. We would not object.”

  “But that will not happen.” He sighed. “I thank you for the courtesy of the visit. It shows you are a gentle man and that you keep your word but I will have to send a message to the Count and to the King. There is disquiet about your visit to the Issicauna and to Carentan. I warn you, Jarl Hrolf, that there are those at the King’s court who want you crushed.”

  “And you?”

  “My sons and wife are dead. My days of fighting are over. I sit and I write poetry. Soon I shall be as dust. I keep peace for the people under my care.”

  I nodded, “You are a good lord.”

  As we rode back Ragnvald asked, “Will there be war?”

  “There will be war. It is only a question of time. I had hoped to live in peace but, perhaps the coming of Jarl Thorbolt and his men it is the reason that we are growing.”

  My son nodded. He had become more thoughtful since we had seen the skeleton in the sea. “I would train more warriors, father. I do not see myself as a Viking raiding from the sea. I see myself as a horseman. There are the sons of warriors who are like me. I would train them to be horseman. I have begun with Tadgh and Gurth.”

  “If that is how you see yourself then I am happy. Alain of Auxerre, perhaps you could help my son to train his men.”

  “Aye. This is a good time of year. Gilles has a training gyrus. We could use that. He has fine horses there and they are well trained.”

  “Good.”

  “We will need mail.”

  “Mail costs coin. Bagsecg has a family to feed.”

  “I know but the horsemen protect those who enjoy the safety of our land. Should they not pay something? Horsemen do not raid. Where do we get our coin from?”

  He had a point but I would not tax my people. “I will tell you what. I will provide the mail and horses for Tadgh and Gurth. I brought them into the clan and I have a responsibility. I will buy their swords but they must make their own shields. As for the others? I will pay Gilles for horses and I will give you some from my herd. The mail, helmets and swords will come from their victories.”

  “Victories? Against whom?”

  “As I said, war is coming but you and your band of young cockerels will not be ready for war any time soon. You may be skilled on the back of a horse but you have yet to fight sword to sword. It is not easy, is it Alain?”

  “It is not. There is a difference between being a good rider and being a rider who can fight but if your men are willing then who knows?”

  Ragnvald found ten others who wished to train as horsemen. The youngest had seen thirteen summers and the eldest eighteen. Some of their fathers were unhappy. They had expected their sons to sail with them on the drekar and be shield brothers. I held a Thing with them to let them talk about it. When we had been the Raven Wing Clan we had held many of them. It had been some years since we had done so. All the men who wished to speak gathered at my hall in the second week of Ýlir. We held it outside, despite the cold. It was not raining and it meant all who wished to could speak. Jarl
Thorbolt stood close by me. The ones who had not attended were the ones from the outlying farms. Some of those from Bárekr’s Haven came and those who farmed by Rurik’s Stad.

  “You are here because some of you are unhappy about your sons becoming horsemen. This is your chance to put your views forward. We will hear and the clan will decide if we need to do anything.”

  Ragnvald was also close by. I saw him about to speak and I said, quietly, “Save your views for later.”

  “But I wish us to become horsemen!”

  “Listen and wait until all have spoken. The Thing does not have a jarl. All men are equal here.”

  Olaf Head Breaker said, “My son, Einar, wishes to follow the son of the jarl and become a horseman. I want him to sail with me and become a Viking.”

  Sigurd Einarsson spoke, “My son has followed me to become a fisherman. He will go to sea but if he wished to be a horseman then that would be wyrd . I would not fight it. We are the clan of the horse. When we lived on Raven Wing Island, Olaf, it was Hrolf the Horseman who saved us. We are now the clan of the horse.”

  Sigismund of Ljoðhús shook his head, “I agree with Olaf. I do not mind having horsemen. We need them but my son has also chosen the way of the horse. Yours has not. I do not like it.”

  Arne Four Toes was seen as something of a sage and when he spoke I saw men taking notice. “My son has also chosen an oar. We are men and warriors. We try to make our sons follow us. Jarl Hrolf’s son came to sea. He did not shirk when we had to battle the seas and the Arabs. He faced the edge of the world and stood with his ship mates. He has chosen the way of the horse. We need both. Horsemen cannot raid foreign shores and our warriors cannot keep our enemies from our borders. We have chosen a land surrounded by horsemen. We need horsemen.”

  Erik Long Hair was the one who grasped the nettle. “To those who wish their sons to become oar mates then it should be because they wish to. A father should not force his son to be the same as he is. We do not choose our own destiny. The Norns spin their webs, Olaf Head Breaker. Those who try to break those threads are doomed. Remember Snorri Witch Killer. He was Ulfheonar. He went against the Norns and he paid with his life. Besides what is to stop those who ride horses sharing an oar?” He pointed to Alain of Auxerre. “Thanks to the jarl and our raids I have more gold and riches that Alain of Auxerre. Yet he is part of this clan too. When war comes, we will expect our horsemen to fight with us will we not?”

  Ragnvald could not contain himself any longer. “Olaf Head Breaker and Sigismund of Ljoðhús, your sons have chosen to follow me. I am not offended that you do not wish them to ride beneath my banner. But they will only have a horse from my father. Where will they get their swords, helmets and mail? When next we raid, they will have to share an oar. They may not like that but the alternative is to go into battle without a weapon. Would you have your son die without a sword?”

  I saw the look of horror on Olaf’s face. “My son will not go to war without a sword. I will give him a sword and a helmet! When he rides, he will be equipped as any warrior?”

  I smiled. My son had used better arguments than I might have expected.

  Sigismund nodded, “Then, perhaps when they have shared an oar and seen the riches they can gather they may choose not to be a horseman.”

  Ragnvald smiled too, “And I will live with that decision.” He paused, “But I do not believe they will make it.”

  As we were all gathered we spoke of other matters. Minor disputes were settled. Promises were made by neighbours to work together. It was a good Thing. My wife provided food and all went away happy.

  Alain of Auxerre came to speak with me as my men went back to their farms. “I had meant to bring up that which Erik Long Hair did. We do not raid and none of my men expect to be rewarded for doing nothing but some have families. How can they provide for their families?”

  “You are right, Alain. When war comes then you will be able to make yourselves rich. Until then I will pay you and your men.”

  “That is not right jarl for we protect the whole of the clan.”

  “Then I will pay you from the clan’s coins. My wife gives to the church so that her god will protect us. I will give as much for my horsemen.”

  “And you will pay me and my men?” Ragnvald was quick and he saw the opportunity for me to fit out his men.

  I laughed, “At the moment, Ragnvald, you and your men can ride horses. You are not warriors. You will be paid when you have proved yourself in battle.”

  “But then we will be able to buy our own mail from the men we slay!”

  “I admire your confidence but I have spoken.”

  “Then we will prove ourselves!”

  The winter proved to be a benign one. No one died of the cold but Ulf Godwinson’s widow died of old age. She was the most ancient of our people and had come from Raven Wing Island. Her death was sad but expected. Other than that our world continued happily enough. By Gói the church just needed the roof building on the extension and the tower was half finished. And the young men were ready to raid.

  I sat outside my hall drinking a newly brewed batch of ale from Brigid. Her husband Erik One Arm sat with us. Along with Rurik One Ear, Erik was probably my oldest friend. With Jarl Thorbolt, Arne Four Toes and Beorn Beornsson we talked of the raid and the options open to us.

  “There are more young warriors who wish to raid this time, Jarl Hrolf. The Thing made the young warriors realise that this was their chance to become rich.”

  “Even though they will be fighting without mail and with their father’s hand me down swords?”

  “That is your son’s doing. He wants his men to be as well armed and mailed as the older warriors.”

  “Then we need a soft and rich target.”

  Arne Four Toes shook his head, “That is not easy. The land of Wessex is well prepared now. We cannot attack the Franks and the Arabs…” he shook his head, “Since we found the skeleton the warriors are fearful of sailing those waters.”

  “Then that leaves the land of Aquitaine and Vasconia.”

  Beorn nodded, “The Liger is a river we know well.”

  “They have a new Duke. Charles the Bald is the brother of King Louis. Would that not be breaking the peace?” Erik One Arm was wise. He had fought the Franks and the Bretons. He had been a slave in Olissipo. I listened to him.

  I nodded, “Then the only alternative is the coast of Northumbria. They have abbeys there. It is close to us. We would not have as far to sail.”

  Jarl Thorbolt had been silent. Now he spoke, “The land there is now infested with Danes. They virtually rule Eoforwic. They have renamed it Jorvik. The treasures that were there may not be any longer. It strikes me that this raid might bring us naught.”

  “Then you are saying risk the ire of the King of the Franks.”

  The young jarl smiled, “I know I am young, jarl but it seems to me that when Charles rebelled and was given the land of Aquitaine it was his brother buying him off. Charles the Bald is still a threat to his brother. I am not certain that a raid there would bring us any closer to war. And it is closer.”

  Beorn nodded, “We have always been successful on the Liger. It has been many years since we last raided. The young jarl may be right. We have a choice of banks to raid. Throw the bones, jarl. I do not relish the German Sea. Aquitaine is warmer and they have great riches. This Charles does not know us. It is time we introduced ourselves.”

  That decided us. “We raid Aquitaine.”

  Erik One Arm refilled our horns. “The question remains, when?”

  I looked at the sky and reflected on the people of Aquitaine. “They are not great producers of grain and they tend their grapes in Heyannir. If we raided then, we could take advantage of that.”

  “And we could raid again when they have gathered in their crops and made their wine.”

  And so, it was decided. We had a month to prepare for a raid. Jarl Thorbolt had a new captain for his drekar. Audun Beornsson had been a fine warrior un
til he had had his leg cut in the last battle against the Saxons. He could no longer fight in the shield wall. He was a good sailor and so Jarl Thorbolt was giving him his chance. This would be Siggi’s first voyage without Sven to watch over him. Sven was building a new drekar and a knarr. His voyages had made him a rich man. Without a family, he wished to leave the clan a new drekar. It was wyrd .

  It was unseasonably warm as we set sail. The wind helped us and we did not need to row. We had fifteen untried warriors aboard our drekar. Everyone had a helmet and a shield. Most had a sword. My son, Tadgh and Gurth had not come with us. They patrolled with Bertrand of Bárekr. My son had learned from Alain now he would learn from Bertrand. The young men shared oars. Most with their fathers or their brothers. It would ensure that they did not slack. A Viking warrior did not wish his offspring to embarrass him.

  This time I was not concerned with how much treasure we could bring back. We had young warriors who needed blooding. I intended to sail up the Liger until we saw a monastery or a town and then we would raid. I saw now that the clan needed both horsemen and warriors. The only way to combine the two was to have my new horsemen raid.

  The first night we laid up by the island the Franks called Noirmoutier. There were few people close by. It was mainly used to make salt. When we landed, those who lived there fled to the mainland. I had the men collect the salt which was there. We made our own but any extra was useful. We left the next morning and sailed slowly down the coast and headed for the Liger. This was not like the Issicauna. There was no port and fortress guarding the estuary. There was just the small church of St Nazarius. We had raided there years earlier and now the blackened palisade and burned church were all that remained. The warriors just had to row against the river. The young warriors strained as they hauled on the oars.

  We had raided Namnetis. An old Roman fort lay on the northern bank of the river. The Franks who had lived there had been badly handled by Jarl Gunnar Thorfinnson. I had decided that, if there was anything worth taking we would attack it. The alternative was a long voyage to Andecavis.