by Griff Hosker
One of the wounded horsemen fell from his saddle and I strode forward to finish him off. The last horseman came at me but, at that moment Haaken and the rest of my warriors launched themselves at oncoming Saxons. The horseman wheeled to face this new danger. In the dark it was hard to estimate numbers but it mattered not. We either held them or we died. Haaken and Cnut finished off the wounded man and I strode down to meet the leader who had recovered enough to stand.
He roared at me and I saw the spearman behind racing to protect their Eorl. I had the advantage of height and I used it. As his axe swung at me I jumped and it missed me completely. The swing took the axe all the way around and when I landed I struck down with Ragnar’s Spirit. He barely deflected my sword and he stumbled again. I stepped towards him. Before he could recover I sliced across him and ripped though his mail and his throat. He fell to the stream bloodily bubbling his life away.
Suddenly I heard a roar. Knut had thrown away his shield and his byrnie and he ran, almost naked, across the stream roaring his war cry. He was going berserk. None of my warriors had ever been taken by the blood fury of the berserker and it was terrifying to behold. The Saxons stood terrified as he swung his sword before him. He seemed impervious to their spear thrusts as he took the heads and arms of all those before him.
Thorkell and the archers rained death upon those behind. “Come let us help our brother!” I led the rest of Erik’s men and the Ulfheonar. It was hard to keep pace with the wild Knut. I saw that his body was covered in blood; some of it was his own. We despatched all those whom he had wounded and ran to reach him. Eventually he outran the arrows of Thorkell and his men. He was surrounded by a ring of spearmen. Even so he continued to fight until they hacked his head from his body. We reached him but too late to save him. None of his killers returned to Mercia. He was our only loss.
I turned to Erik’s men, of their king there was no sign. “Carry this warrior’s body to the ford and we will bury him with honour here at Knut’s Ford. Let his body watch over this place of glory. Long will we remember him and his brave end. The Allfather and Ragnar will welcome him even now.”
As they reverently carried his body my Ulfheonar stripped the Saxons of their weapons. Beorn and Thorkell had captured four of the horses and we would be able to take these weapons back to our ships.
We buried the brave Knut by the ford which bears his name still. We killed his sword and laid it with him and covered him with stones. None of his men could bring themselves to look at Erik who emerged, guiltily, as we buried him. It was almost dawn as we headed north to the river. We had lost a brave man but Erik’s men had regained some of their honour.
I smiled when I saw Sven collecting the undamaged hedgehogs. “These are worth their weight in gold, Jarl Dragon Heart. I will fear no horseman so long as I have these.”
I almost felt sorry for Erik as we trudged along the Roman road. His men avoided him as though he was diseased. Beorn and Erik Dog Bite, even though they were tired to the point of exhaustion, ranged far ahead. Erik sidled up to Haaken and me. “I have not always made the right decisions.”
Haaken merely shook his head in disbelief. I remembered that he was Erika’s elder brother. “Perhaps it was my fault for leaving Man.”
Haaken could not contain himself. “A man makes his own decisions and does what is right.” He pointed at Erik, “Who makes the decisions in your hall?”
“Enough. You do not criticise the way another man runs his home.” I softened my voice. “You can still redeem the situation. Show your warriors that you are their leader and they will follow you again.”
He pointed to his men who were twenty paces ahead. “Not these men.”
“Perhaps not, for they saw the fall of Knut. Just decide what you wish to be. What happened to the others?”
“Ragnar led them west to Caerlleon.”
I saw that Ragnar was as careful as ever. His home would be defended by the warriors who survived the Saxons. “The slaves and the treasure?”
“Sihtric slaughtered the slaves as soon as we were attacked and every warrior, who could, grabbed whatever there was.”
I looked at him. “And you have nothing?”
“Nothing.”
Our conversation was ended as Beorn and Erik raced towards us. “Rolf and his men have been ambushed by Saxons.”
“Erik, stay with the horses.” The wounded men were leading the horses but I wanted Erik to understand responsibility. He would be guarding the weapons and the wounded.
As I crested the rise which led down to the river I saw a knot of warriors. I recognised Ham the Silent and Erik the Redhead. I caught my breath as I realised that Rolf was lying on the floor. He was not moving. There were just fifteen warriors there and no sign of the slaves or the others. I could see, beyond the trees at the riverside, the masts of the ships.
There were forty Saxons. I saw, in an instant, that King Coenwulf had sent two forces; one to capture the raiders and the other to capture the ships. He was a thinker and not a Ragnar or a Thorfinn.
“Ulfheonar, let us show these Saxons how to fight.”
Erik’s men joined us as we hurtled down the Roman Road. Knut was still in our minds as we fell upon the unsuspecting Saxons. They were too busy trying to destroy the remnants of Rolf’s men. We were outnumbered and we were exhausted but Rolf was one of us and we would avenge his death. Haaken killed the first Saxon and the two next to him whirled around with their swords and shields ready for battle. I hacked down at the shield of one while Cnut skewered the other. The Saxon I fought was a strong man and he bravely held his shield up. I was in no mood to be kind and I punched him with the boss of my shield and then whipped my sword across his unguarded throat.
The Saxons locked shields and I could see, beyond the last one, Ham the Silent fall, mortally wounded, to the ground. Erik the Redhead still fought on. I remembered Knut. He had fought on beyond reason. It inspired me and I recklessly laid about me with Ragnar’s Spirit. I would reach Rolf or die trying. I owed him that much. I felt blows striking my shield but I ignored them. I felt swords striking my mail and my helmet but I put them from my mind and I sliced and slashed at all before me. I could see the fear in men’s eyes as my deadly blade killed all who stood in my way. Finally I reached a huge warrior completely encased in mail and with a full face helmet. He had an axe and, even as I watched he took Erik the Redhead’s helmet and head.
I roared a, “No!” and smashed down with my sword. He was quick for a big man and he spun around to block the blow with his shield. It did him little good. I kicked as hard as I could and, as he reeled back, connected with his groin. He fell as though I had struck him with a hammer. He lay stunned on the ground and I took his head with one might swing. I grabbed his head and helmet and waved it above my head. It was more than enough for the rest. Those who could fled, pursued by Erik’s men who were keen to prove their courage to me.
I knelt down next to the body of Rolf. I took his helmet off. I heard a noise coming from the river but I need not have worried. It was Snorri, Aiden and the rest of the crew we had left at the river. Snorri shouted, “We came as soon as we heard the fighting.” He saw Ham and Erik, they were both dead and he saw Rolf lying there. “Is he dead?”
Aiden knelt down and put his ear to Rolf’s mouth. “No! He lives still!”
I left Haaken and the others to see to the Saxons. I had my oathsworn to tend. Aiden ran his hands over Rolf’s body. “I can see no wound.”
I looked inside the helmet. There was a patch of blood. I carefully moved some hair. There was a hole in the side of his skull. Aiden lifted a flap of skin and I could see his brain. The young warrior said, “Find the bone from his skull.”
I looked down to where his helmet had lain and I found a piece of bone the size of Kara’s hand. I gave it to Aiden. He had quick and nimble fingers. He took out a bone needle and some cat gut. “Jarl Dragon Heart, get some honey.”
I had no idea where he thought I would get honey from. I
stood and shouted, “We need honey now!”
One of Erik’s men ran to the horses which were now standing patiently waiting for us. He reached into a saddlebag and drew out a small jar. He looked at me sheepishly, “I found it there earlier and I have a sweet tooth.”
“If this works you can have all the honey in the world.”
I handed it to Aiden who smeared some around the edge of the skull and then on the edge of the bone. He carefully replaced the piece of bone and then roughly sewed the flap of skin to hold it in place. He stood.
“Will he live?”
“That is in the hands of the Allfather but we must move him carefully so as not to disturb him too much.”
Haaken came up to me. “We had better leave while we can. There may be more.” He looked at Rolf. “Is he alive?”
“He is. Use the shields and spears to make a litter for him carry him carefully to the ship. Aiden take charge.” As they obeyed my orders I turned to Snorri, “Bring our dead with us. We will bury them at sea. They deserve that honour.”
When we reached the river I saw that the other drekar were still there. I turned to Erik. “You had better tell the others that their kings are fled.”
He nodded and turned to his men. “Come let us go to our ship.”
They stood there defiantly and reminded me of Kara when she was asked to do something she didn’t want to do. The warrior who had given me the honey, Stig Sweet Tooth said, “I am sorry King Erik but we wish to serve Jarl Dragon Heart.”
That was the way it was with warriors. These were not oathsworn and they could choose whom they followed. Erik looked as though his heart had been ripped out. He nodded glumly and went to the bank to signal his ship.
I turned to the warriors, “Are you sure? I am no king and life is hard in Cyninges-tūn.”
They knelt and held their swords before them. “We swear to be your men Jarl Dragon Heart and your oathsworn. You are Prince Butar reborn and he was a fair and honest leader. We will take our chances with you.”
“I told you, I am no king.”
“You need not be a king Jarl Dragon Heart for wherever you are is the Viking Kingdom and we are your men.”
And so the men I had lost were made up from other warriors of Man and they proved as loyal and brave as any. Some good had come of Erik’s lassitude.
Epilogue
It took three days to return to Cyninges-tūn. We reached Úlfarrston in two and then rowed as slowly as we dared up the river to Windar’s Mere. All of the time we went north Aiden lay with Rolf. He dripped water and honey into his mouth and bathed him. Arturus helped his friend and I was touched by the way they worked together. Rolf showed little sign of life save a chest rising and falling slowly. When we reached his hall he was carried by the Ulfheonar and laid on his bed. Perhaps the Norns had had enough of playing with us for, as we turned to leave, we heard a sigh and when we turned he opened his eyes.
Aiden ran to him and gave him a horn of ale laced with honey. I stood and watched. His eyes were open but what had the wound done to him? He saw me, “Jarl Dragon Heart. What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
“We left you at the ford and….” He closed his eyes. “And that is all.”
“You were ambushed and nearly lost your life but Ham and Erik saved you.”
He smiled, “I can always rely on them. Where are they so that I can thank them?”
“You will have to wait until you reach Valhalla for they died so that the Saxons could not have your body.”
His eyes closed and his voice was almost a whisper. “I had sailed with them for fifteen years. They were closer to me than my brothers and now they are gone.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “And what better way could they have shown their love for their jarl?”
I left him in Aiden’s care and went with Arturus back to Cyninges-tūn. We had come back with treasure and we were richer but we had lost three warriors who were irreplaceable. We were now alone. I would not talk with those so called kings again. I would stay in my land or I would raid alone and if they came close then we would fight. The land of the waters and meres was now my kingdom. I would rule in the name of Butar, Ragnar and the Old man, Olaf. I had seen what titles would do and I would have none of it.
When Erika stood at my gate with our new child in her arms and Kara rushed up to greet her father I knew that I would never leave this land.
The End
Glossary
Áed Oirdnide –King of Tara 797
Bebbanburgh- Bamburgh Castle, Northumbria
Blót – a blood sacrifice made by a jarl
Byrnie- a mail shirt reaching down to the knees
Caerlleon- Welsh for Chester
Chape- the tip of a scabbard
Cherestanc- Garstang (Lancashire)
Cymri- Welsh
Cymru- Wales
Cyninges-tūn – Coniston. It means the estate of the king (Cumbria)
Drekar- a Dragon ship (a Viking warship)
Duboglassio –Douglas, Isle of Man
Ein-mánuðr- middle of March to the middle of April
Fey- having second sight
Frankia- France and part of Germany
Garth- Dragon heart
Gaill- Irish for foreigners
Gladramenn- wizard
Glaesum –amber
Gói- the end of February to the middle of March
Haughs- small hills in Norse (As in Tarn Hows)
Hel - Queen of Niflheim, the Norse underworld.
Hrams-a – Ramsey, Isle of Man
Jarl- Norse earl or lord
Joro-goddess of the earth
Kyrtle-woven top
Lochlannach – Irish for Northerners (Vikings)
Legacaestir- Anglo Saxon for Chester
Mammceaster- Manchester
Manau – The Isle of Man (Saxon)
Midden- a place where they dumped human waste
Njoror- God of the sea
Nithing- A man without honour (Saxon)
Odin - The "All Father" God of war, also associated with wisdom, poetry, and magic (The Ruler of the gods).
Orkneyjar-Orkney
Ran- Goddess of the sea
Roof rock- slate
Rinaz –The Rhine
St.Cybi- Holyhead
Seax – short sword
Skeggox – an axe with a shorter beard on one side of the blade
Sigismund- Frankish trader living in Cologne
Sif- Goddess of battle and the name of Harald’s ship
Tadgh- a former slave and renegade Viking
Tarn- small lake (Norse)
The Norns- Fate
Thing-Norse for a parliament or a debate (Tynwald)
Thor’s day- Thursday
Threttanessa- a drekar with 13 oars on each side.
Thrall- slave
Tynwald- the Parliament on the Isle of Man
Úlfarr- Wolf Warrior
Úlfarrston- Ulverston
Ullr-Norse God of Hunting
Ulfheonar-an elite Norse warrior who wore a wolf skin over his armour
Volva- a witch or healing woman in Norse culture
Woden’s day- Wednesday
Wulfhere-Old English for Wolf Army
Wyrd- Fate
Maps
Coniston Water
Courtesy of Wikipedia
Northumbria circa 800 AD
Historical note
The Viking raids began, according to records left by the monks, in the 790s when Lindisfarne was pillaged. However there were many small settlements along the east coast and most were undefended. I have chosen a fictitious village on the Tees as the home of Garth who is enslaved and then, when he gains his freedom, becomes Dragon Heart. As buildings were all made of wood then any evidence would have long rotted save for a few post holes. My raiders represent the Norse warriors who wanted the plunder of the soft Saxon kingdom. There is a myth that the Vikings raided in large numbers but this is not so. It
was only in the tenth and eleventh centuries that the numbers grew. They also did not have allegiances to kings. The Norse settlements were often isolated family groups. The term Viking was not used in what we now term the Viking age. Warriors went a-Viking which meant that they sailed for adventure or pirating. Their lives were hard. Slavery was commonplace. The Norse for slave is thrall and I have used both terms.
It was more dangerous to drink the water in those times and so most people, including children drank beer or ale. The process killed the bacteria which could hurt them. It might sound as though they were on a permanent pub crawl but in reality they were drinking the healthiest drink that was available to them.
I have recently used the British Museum book and research about the Vikings. Apparently, rather like punks and Goths, the men did wear eye makeup. It would make them appear more frightening. There is also evidence that they filed their teeth. The leaders of warriors built up a large retinue by paying them and giving them gifts such as the wolf arm ring. This was seen as a sort of bond between leader and warrior. There was no national identity. They operated in small bands of free booters loyal to their leader. The idea of sword killing was to render a weapon unusable by anyone else. On a simplistic level this could just be a bend but I have seen examples which are tightly curled like a spring.
