by Griff Hosker
Viking Witch
Book 15 in the
Dragon Heart Series
By
Griff Hosker
Published by Sword Books Ltd 2016
Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition
The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Cover by Design for Writers
Dedicated to Thomas and Samuel my two new grandsons both born in 2016. Wyrd!
Book List
Ancient History
The Sword of Cartimandua Series (Germania and Britannia 50A.D. – 128 A.D.)
Ulpius Felix- Roman Warrior (prequel)
Book 1 The Sword of Cartimandua
Book 2 The Horse Warriors
Book 3 Invasion Caledonia
Book 4 Roman Retreat
Book 5 Revolt of the Red Witch
Book 6 Druid’s Gold
Book 7 Trajan’s Hunters
Book 8 The Last Frontier
Book 9 Hero of Rome
Book 10 Roman Hawk
Book 11 Roman Treachery
Book 12 Roman Wall
The Wolf Warrior series (Britain in the late 6th Century)
Book 1 Saxon Dawn
Book 2 Saxon Revenge
Book 3 Saxon England
Book 4 Saxon Blood
Book 5 Saxon Slayer
Book 6 Saxon Slaughter
Book 7 Saxon Bane
Book 8 Saxon Fall: Rise of the Warlord
Book 9 Saxon Throne
The Dragon Heart Series
Book 1 Viking Slave
Book 2 Viking Warrior
Book 3 Viking Jarl
Book 4 Viking Kingdom
Book 5 Viking Wolf
Book 6 Viking War
Book 7 Viking Sword
Book 8 Viking Wrath
Book 9 Viking Raid
Book 10 Viking Legend
Book 11 Viking Vengeance
Book 12 Viking Dragon
Book 13 Viking Treasure
Book 14 Viking Enemy
Book 15 Viking Witch
Norman Genesis Series (820-1020 A.D.)
Hrolf the Viking
Horseman
The Battle for a Home
The Aelfraed Series (Britain and Byzantium 1050 A.D. - 1085 A.D.)
Book 1 Housecarl
Book 2 Outlaw
Book 3 Varangian
The Anarchy Series (England 1120-1180)
English Knight
Knight of the Empress
Northern Knight
Baron of the North
Earl
King Henry's Champion
The King is Dead
Warlord of the North
Enemy at the Gates
Warlord's War
Kingmaker
Modern History
The Napoleonic Horseman Series
Chasseur à Cheval
Napoleon’s Guard
British Light Dragoon
Soldier Spy
1808: The Road to Corunna
Waterloo
The Lucky Jack American Civil War series
Rebel Raiders
Confederate Rangers
The Road to Gettysburg
The British Ace Series
1914
1915 Fokker Scourge
1916 Angels over the Somme
1917 Eagles Fall
1918 We will remember them
Combined Operations 1940-1945
Commando
Raider
Behind Enemy Lines
Dieppe
Toehold in Europe
Sword Beach
Other Books
Great Granny’s Ghost (Aimed at 9-14-year-old young people)
Adventure at 63-Backpacking to Istanbul
Britannia 825 A.D.
Prologue
Each birth in the clan was special. It meant we were prospering and we were growing. The girls could grow to be mothers and the boys into men who would wield weapons and defend the Land of the Wolf. We had had one such birth in my hall. My new daughter, Myfanwy, had brought joy to our home. She could not replace my son, Wolf Killer but, as Kara, my eldest daughter said, “She is of our blood father. Your blood coursed through Wolf Killer and it will be in Myfanwy. Who knew what she might achieve. She and her elder sister, Erika, were the gentle side of my hall. They took after their mother, Brigid.
Kara’s words had made me thoughtful. I mourned my dead son, Wolf Killer, but I still had my grandson, Ragnar and my son, Gruffyd. I would not make the same mistakes with them as I had with Wolf Killer. We would not become estranged. Both were now growing quickly. Ragnar had seen fourteen summers and was now able to go to war. He had his father’s oathsworn as his hearth-weru and he had been blooded in battle. Although Gruffyd was younger he too had been in battle and had been blooded. He had not flinched from our foes. I had a new purpose in my life and that was to ensure that they were ready to leave my clan when I was gone. I was not a fool. With age came wisdom and I had lived longer than any man I had known save Old Ragnar and he had been a half blind cripple at the end. I did not think that I was doomed to endure such an end.
The last few years had changed us. Many of my Ulfheonar were now in Valhalla with my son and his son, Garth. Others had had their lives changed irrevocably. Snorri had had to kill a witch. Many now called him Snorri the Witch Killer but he did not approve of that name. We had sailed to Syllingar to atone for that act. Although the witch there had forgiven him I knew it had changed him. His hair was now turning white. He feared no man alive but a witch… that was something different. Kara was a volva and her husband Aiden a galdramenn. They had put a spell on Snorri’s wolf token which he wore around his neck. Already made of gold it was already powerful but they made it even stronger. It helped but it did not drive away the demons which filled his head at night. We had all changed after fighting Eggle Skulltaker and his warband. They had been evil.
Eggle Skulltaker and his band had come close to destroying both me and my people. The fight to destroy them had been hard and they had shown cunning. I was happy that they were now gone. We had drawn even closer together. With Eden Stad and Ketil Stad to the north Windar’s Mere was now the furthest west we had a settlement. Far to the south were the homes of Sigtrygg on the Lune and our ally Pasgen ap Coen at Úlfarrston. With Cyninges-tūn in the centre my land was filled with farms but beyond that was an empty wasteland. The farms which had stood there were now being reclaimed by the forests and the mountains. We were prosperous but we looked within and not without. We traded less and were warier of strangers. The attack by the Danes had made us suspicious, even of our own kind.
Aiden had read the parchments we had taken from the hall of Grimbould of Neustria. He and Egbert of Wessex had been allies and Egbert had been involved in the plot against my people. They had shown us that our enemies plotted to end our time in the north. We were too few in number, yet, to take on the mighty Wessex but it was in my mind to visit the treacherous Saxon and bloody his nose once more. His land was rich and hurting him profited us. I could not allow the hurt he had done us go unpunished.
As Gormánuður drifted to an end I saw that the leaves
were now lying deep on the ground and breath began to mist in the early morn. The water of Cyninges-tūn was heavy with early morning dew, the waterfowl hidden by grey, dank fog. It would soon be the time to hunt the wolf. When the feast of Yule was over those warriors who wished to become Ulfheonar would travel into the high places and hunt that most deadly of predators. I knew not if any wished to hunt this time but I would lead hunters to take wolves. They were a threat to every isolated farm. We had learned over the years not to ignore the threat.
As I looked out over my stronghold I saw young boys practising with wooden swords, slings and bows. That was as it should be. Their play was purposeful and would make them into better warriors when they grew. Everyone else was busy preparing for the long dark nights to come. The hides from the animals we had slaughtered were cleaned and prepared. The bones which had been used for soup were now being sorted. Those which were large enough would be made into tools and jewellery. Others would be burned on the bone fires and spread on the land. Nothing was wasted. The best of the fruits which had been gathered would be stored while the poorer ones would be cooked along with the meat which had not been preserved. They would be mixed together with the precious spices from Miklagård to make our Yule feast special. Women were spinning the wool from our sheep and goats to make new kyrtles and blankets for the winter. Fish were drying on racks while others were in the smoke houses. Timber was hewn for firewood. Each day we had less sunlight and my people strove to use every moment. When winter closed in around us we would have food, warmth and safety.
I looked at the mountain that was Olaf, the old man. He watched over us still. He, along with the spirits of the Water, protected us. I touched the wolf and the dragon which hung from my neck. “Thank you, ancient ones. Soon we will start a new year and face new challenges. It is good to know that you are there.”
Part One
The Clan of the Skull Takers
Chapter 1
My wife, Brigid, was a follower of the White Christ. She was not alone. There were others, mainly slaves, who chose this new religion. I did not mind for they were women and it suited them. For a warrior, it went against everything we believed. None of the men in the Land of the Wolf chose that way. It did mean, however, that we celebrated the birth of the White Christ at the same time as Yule. It seemed strange to me that the White Christ should have been born in the depths of winter. Most of our babies were born in Tvímánuður, the corn cutting month. Conceived when the nights were long that was the natural way. I did not mind the feast for my wife was happy for us to drink and to eat. She tried to get us to give gifts. So far few did so. She was a good wife and I was lucky. The two festivals seemed to meld together. My wife had her way, albeit briefly, and we could feast in the heart of winter.
The celebration this Yule was different, for my new daughter, Myfanwy, took up much of my wife’s time and the feast was planned by Kara, my eldest, and the slaves. I noticed that there was more greenery brought in this Yule as well as some customs from the land of the Norse. My wife did not seem to notice.
Over the last year, we had a pair of travellers who brought us goods from the lands of the Saxons. Wighlek and Vibeke were an older couple. They both had grey hair but they were hardy for they managed to travel even in the heart of winter. Only the closed passes stopped them. They did a healthy trade with us. They brought goods which the women liked. They brought jet and amber jewellery. They used the money to buy swords from Bagsecg. They had come in early Gormánuður bringing herbs, spices and powders which Kara and Aiden needed for their magic. They also brought news. It was they who told us that King Eanred was now staying in Bebbanburgh and that Athelstan was the defender of the lands. Bebbanburgh had been called Din Guardi by the old people. I still thought of it by that name. I knew I would have to speak with Athelstan soon. His father was a frightened old man while Athelstan made sure his land was safe. He was a good ally.
Kara and Aiden’s daughter, Ylva, was now coming up to womanhood. Almost twelve summers old others her age were almost ready to bear children. She was different however. She might not bear children. Ylva was a volva, like her mother. If she had children, then it would diminish her powers. Kara had waited a long time to start a family. Some of her powers had left her and gone to her daughter. Aiden had magical powers too. It meant that Ylva was special, even beyond being my granddaughter. She would be a powerful witch when she grew into womanhood. I knew that Brigid did not approve of this witchcraft but Kara had saved the clan on more than one occasion. As I sat in my chair by my roaring fire Ylva came to sit by me. She took a bone comb and began to pull it through my untidy tresses. She often did this. She would hum a tune as she did so. It was soothing and I found it made me calm but I knew not what pleasure she derived from it.
“We should use those oils that they bring back from Miklagård, grandfather. They would make you smell sweeter.”
I shook my head, “Do not mind offending me, Ylva, I am just the chief of this clan. Speak your mind eh child?”
She was not put out by my mock outrage, “And that is why you should take greater care of yourself. You do not go to war in winter. You have time to look more like a chief. The people look up to you. If you take care of yourself then the other men will too. It makes the clan stronger.”
She had wisdom beyond her years. She saw things that I did not and which appeared obvious to her. “You mean I do not take care of myself? Brigid would not be happy to hear such words.”
She laughed, “You look like a wolf!”
It was my turn to laugh, “Then that is wyrd for this is the Land of the Wolf and I am a wolf warrior.”
“Oh, you are impossible.” She laid down her comb and spoke conspiratorially to me, “I have asked my mother if I can go to Syllingar.”
The hairs on my neck prickled, “Why? It is far from here and the seas are dangerous.” I had been there many times but I feared the place. We had rarely sailed there because we wished to. We had gone there because we had been summoned.
“I envy those who have met the witch there. My father believes she is a Norn. I would learn from her. She would be able to teach me how to become a powerful witch and I could save the clan. Even Snorri has met her.”
“And his hair turned white as a result. Be careful what you wish.”
“I would not fear her. I have spoken with the dead and they are a comfort to me.” She smiled, “My first grandmother, Erika, often comes to me.”
“She was a great woman.” I still missed my wife. She lay in a barrow across the water and in the spring primroses and other wild flowers made it look alive.
“Aye and an even greater witch. She is the one who holds this land safe. It is her spirit which watches over us.”
“And old Olaf?”
“Oh, he does his part but he just stands like a rock. My grandmother moves over the land and through the Water. When danger comes, she will warn us.”
“And is there danger?”
She shook her head. “I have not dreamed it yet. That is why I would go to Syllingar. There my powers can become greater.”
I pointed to Elfrida. She and Brigid were spinning wool in the corner away from the fire. She also had powers and had been the wife of my son, “A witch once tried to take Elfrida and make her powers greater. Ask your mother about Angharad. She nearly ended the clan for she divided us.”
“I know of her. She had a black heart. She was like the witch Snorri slew. My powers will be greater and I will be able to defeat such witches. I have powers for good. There are evil witches. My mother has told me of them and I do know of Angharad. That will not happen to me.”
Kara came over, “Stop bothering your grandfather. Angharad almost destroyed our family. We will not speak of her.”
“But if I have tuition from a Norn then I could have even greater powers and prevent such tragedies.”
“I have told you daughter, you need to be a woman first.”
Ylva hung her head, “Why am I not one? I h
ave great powers and yet I am still a child.”
Aiden joined us, “That is because the Weird Sisters have plans for you. When the time is right then shall you be a woman.”
“Besides, daughter, it is the Mother who makes you a woman. Each girl becomes a woman when the Mother decides that it is right. We will know when it is time for you.”
Any further conversation was ended when my son, Gruffyd and Ragnar approached me. I saw my son looking at Ragnar and nodding. “Grandfather we would like to go on the wolf hunt with you when you take the Ulfheonar.”
I shook my head, “I took you on one wolf hunt. The men who would be Ulfheonar need our skills to help them kill their wolves. It would not be fair to have the distraction of you two.”
They looked at each other again. There was a conspiracy here. They had plotted. The two were close. The death of Wolf Killer had made them so.
“You both have a wolf skin.”
“I know. It is not to get a wolf skin. We would not be Ulfheonar but…” Gruffyd looked at Ragnar who nodded, “Ragnar said you will not have many wolf hunts left, father. I would hunt with you.”
Brigid, who had been feeding our daughter looked shocked, “Gruffyd!”
“Well it is true! You said so! You said he was too old to be hunting the wolf!”
I saw from her face that it was true. Was I getting old? The only time I saw my face was when I saw it in the Water but I knew from Haaken and the other Ulfheonar that none of us were getting any younger. I did not know my age but I had been alive a long time. I had seen kings come and go. I had buried more of my oathsworn than lived now. Perhaps my son and grandson were right. I saw Ragnar scowling at Gruffyd and I smiled, “You may be right. We all get old.” A silence fell on my hall. The celebrations had been dampened. Poor Gruffyd looked embarrassed. He had not meant to be so blunt but he was young still. “But I am still the jarl of this clan. I can still ride and I can still hunt.” I gave Brigid a withering look, “Despite what some people might think. I tell you what, I will ask Snorri if he can take the three of us to find the wolves. He would be scouting them anyway. If it is meant to be then we will hunt them and if not, then we can enjoy the search.”
