Viking Witch (Dragonheart Book 15)

by Griff Hosker

  I heard the witch as she spat at us, “I curse you, Dragonheart and Snorri Witch Killer. I curse your seed and I curse your land. I curse your spirits and your warband!”

  I saw that she had a crudely made stick doll and she was putting bone needles into it.

  “By this token made of yew, you all will die you pathetic few, I take your hearts and drain your blood, I bathe and wash this ancient wood, I lit the fire to end your clan, you will die, a mortal man!”

  Something snapped inside Snorri. Even as I raised my sword to kill the Dane I had maimed he swung his sword at the Dane he fought and knocked him to the ground. He ran to the witch and raising his sword, he stabbed her. Her claw like hands grabbed his cloak and pulled him closer to her. He stabbed her again. It was hard to find something vital beneath her layers of fat. I sank my sword into the Dane I fought as Snorri raised his sword to stab the witch again. She cursed and spat at him. The warrior Snorri had knocked to the ground stood and stabbed my scout in the back. I brought my sword over and took the Dane’s head. Mortally wounded Snorri summoned up enough strength to swing his sword at the head of the witch. The grisly, pustule and wart covered skull flew through the air. The warriors Baggi had sent fell upon Snorri. Even as he slumped to the ground they began to hack at his body. I threw myself into them. I smashed my sword across the neck of one. My edge had gone but the blow was so hard that it broke his neck. Beorn the Scout was like a man possessed. His oldest friend lay dead at our feet and he recklessly hacked and chopped at the Danes around him. I saw one raise his sword to end Beorn’s life too and then an arrow came from nowhere to throw him back. Cnut and Haaken led the charge to destroy the rest of the Danes. I knelt by Snorri. Life had left him but he had a smile upon his face.

  I stood and raised my sword, “Baggi Skull Splitter, you have killed my men for the last time. Your witches are dead and you will join them. You cannot defeat the power of the Allfather!”

  He still had many men with him and he roared at me defiantly, “This ends now, Dragonheart! I will kill you myself and tear your skull from your shoulders! I will make a goblet from it and drink your blood. I will spread the legs of the young witch and she will conjure no more!”

  As they came towards us there was a roar as my gates opened and Ragnar led those who survived from the stronghold to fall upon the rear of the Danish line. The Skull Taker was right; this would end on this hillside beneath the Úlfarrberg.

  Baggi Skull Splitter was a powerful warrior. He was far bigger than I was but he had a paunch on him. My sword was not sharp enough for me to end this swiftly. He had confidence for his helmet was not made of metal but a large human skull painted red. It would not stop a blow but I would struggle to be able to land one there. I forced myself to ignore those around me. If I fell then they would lose heart or, even worse, recklessly try to avenge me. I had to wear him down. His axe was not quite a two-handed axe. He could wield it one handed and he had a shield to defend against my sword. He brought the axe from far behind him. He had the slope in his favour. He brought the axe in an upward swing. It smashed into my shield and I began to fall backwards. I was only saved by the pressure of Olaf Leather Neck’s shield. He had struggled to reach us but his very presence saved my life. I lunged forward as Olaf pushed me towards the Dane. My sword still had enough of an edge and point to stab the Dane in the knee. He roared in pain and swept his shield towards my head. I swivelled away from the blow. It missed my head by the width of a seax.

  I was now standing sideways on the slope. If the Dane wished to continue to swing his axe he had to turn too. His wounded knee was on the downward slope. As he pulled back his axe to swing at me again I brought my sword backhanded across his right side. It smacked into his mail. Some of the links were severed and his arm flailed as he tried to recover his balance.

  “You are Loki! You are the trickster! Fight like a warrior; beard to beard!”

  “When I find a warrior, I will do so! You are a butcher of babies and not worth my spit!”

  In answer, he brought the axe from behind him, over his head. Had I not moved then I would have been split in two. Holding my shield above me I stepped back. The move did not take me from his arc but he only hit the lower part of my shield. When a sliver of wood flew from it he gave a shout of joy. I feinted with my sword and then spun around, up the hill. I brought Ragnar’s Spirit into the side of his mail again. My hand was guided for it found the place I had weakened the mail earlier. This time the blow hurt him. It might have little edge but my sword was heavy. Something broke within his body.

  I now had the advantage of the slope. All around us the hearth-weru of the Danish jarl were fighting to the death. In the darkening evening, it was a battle fought face to face. None were dying easily. Like a wounded animal, they fought beyond reason, almost beyond life.

  When Baggi next raised his axe to swing at me it was a little slower than it had been. This blow was a sideways one. I could not avoid it. I had to take the hit on my shield. Although weaker it still shivered my arm and cracked the shield. There was triumph on the Dane’s face. I swung my sword low and connected with his shin. Not a killing blow it hurt. I saw blood on my blade. Undeterred he brought his axe overhand again. I was already far enough back that I did not need to step backwards and I leaned my body behind my shield. The pain up my arm was less but a hole appeared in the shield. It would not last much longer.

  He was now warier of me. He watched my eyes and was ready for my feints and spins. I was running out of ways to defeat him. Had my sword been sharp then I could have used it on his legs. I did the only thing I could, I traded blows with his shield. He thought I was beaten for the sword did not even dent the shield. When next he swung, I knew what the outcome would be. My shield would be destroyed.

  “This ends soon, Dragonheart and I will have that sword melted down and made into a drinking vessel!”

  As soon as he said that I knew that the Allfather would not allow it. He swung his axe. It was slower and delivered with less power. He was tiring. His weight, his wounds and his exertions had sapped his energy. The shield shattered leaving just the boss in my hand. I threw the boss at his face as I whipped out my seax. As his right hand came up to protect his face I stabbed forward with the seax. It was sharp. I struck through the gap I had made in his mail. It grated against his ribs as it entered his body. I twisted as I pulled it out and I stepped back. The seax is broad bladed. Blood poured from the wound. He punched at me with his shield and I was forced on to the back foot. I saw him try to raise his axe again. It caused a greater outpouring of blood. I swung my sword high above his shield. I aimed at his skull covered helmet. He brought his axe up to block the blow. The force of my strike smashed his axe handle in two.

  He threw the head at me and drew his own sword. I was tiring too but not as much as he was. I danced away from the scything sword which struck air. It tired him and caused more blood to flood from his body. I feinted with my seax. I could see that he feared it. He stepped back on his left leg and opened his body. “Allfather guide my hand!” I lunged at his throat. He was weak and he was tired. His left hand was too slow and Baggi Skull Splitter died as my sword entered his throat and went up through his skull. I twisted and tore upwards. His skull split in two. Brains, bone and blood erupted as I ended the life of the man who would have been king.

  I whirled around and saw that we had been the last two to fight. Ragnar stood there his sword dripping with blood and his mail blood spattered. Olaf Leather Neck knelt. I had not lost any of the Ulfheonar but I saw that only Einar the Tall remained of those hearth-weru who had followed my son, Wolf Killer. I nodded to Ragnar, “Where are my daughter and her family?”

  He gestured inside with his sword, “They are within,” he hesitated, “they tend to Gruffyd.”

  My heart sank to my boots. The Norns, it seemed, had not finished punishing me. I sheathed my sword and ran through the gates. The battle around the gate had been fierce. The Danes had lost many men trying to gain
entry. The door of the hall was open and I clambered up the ladder. Ylva and Kara were on either side of my son who lay, white as a sheet, save for a reddened bandage around his head. At his feet knelt Elfrida.

  Aiden put his arm out, “He lives, jarl, but he is hovering between this world and the next. Ylva and Kara are bringing him back. Do not disturb them. It would be best.”

  I took out my sword. It was still bloody. Shaking off Aiden’s arm I walked towards my son. Ylva and Kara had their eyes closed. I said nothing but I laid the sword along his body. “Allfather let your power flow through this sword and heal my son.” The room was filled with silence. I saw Kara and Ylva stiffen and then my son began to breathe a little easier.

  Kara, Elfrida and Ylva opened their eyes and stood. Kara said, quietly, “He was almost gone, father and then suddenly his spirit spoke to us. He will live!” She saw the sword and nodded, “This is wyrd.”

  “Is it over grandfather?”

  I nodded, “It is although we have paid a heavy price. Snorri slew Asta but it was his last act. He is in Valhalla now.”

  “I am sorry. This is all my fault!” She threw herself in my arms and began to sob.

  Cradling her I murmured in her ear, “That is like blaming the Land of the Wolf for being beautiful and making people desire it. The fault lies on others who wish to take what we have. The clan has paid a fearful price but we have kept the land safe. We have enemies to pursue but the threat is gone.”

  Aiden said, “Come, wife, come Elfrida, we have men to heal. Ylva, stay with Gruffyd.”

  I shook my head, “No, I shall be his healer. The Allfather has shown me the true power of the sword. My warriors need you. We shall be staying here this night.”

  After they had gone I pulled a chair over and sat next to Gruffyd’s head. I laid one hand on the hilt of my sword and one on his head. I spoke quietly, “I have lost one son, Gruffyd. I could not live if I lost a second. I should have had you with my men. The Allfather has given me a second chance and I will not spurn it. I shall make you a warrior so powerful that none will dare face you. I will prepare you to be jarl when I am gone.”

  A breeze seemed to enter the room and he sighed. His breathing settled into the rhythm of someone asleep. Old Ragnar had always said that sleep was the best healer and I prayed so. I must have fallen asleep for I was shaken awake. I looked up and saw Haaken.

  “Jarl Dragonheart, we have won. Asbjorn and Ketil destroyed the rest of the warband. Aðils and Beorn are now leading Ketil and his men to pursue them. They were forced to head north towards Ketil’s land. He swore he would pursue them until they fell into the sea.”

  “And the butcher’s bill?”

  “We lost many men. I have never known a day when we lost three Ulfheonar.” He shook his head and his voice caught, “I thought Snorri would outlive me. His wife has just had his first son. He had so much to live for.”

  “He had killed two witches. He felt cursed. When he saw the witch cursing our people it was too much for him. He died for his wife and his son. He could not allow his land to be cursed. It was a good death but I will grieve for him. Long after his son has grown up I will remember the greatest of scouts.”

  “Aye.”

  We sat in silence. It was comfortable. We needed no words. It was so quiet that when Gruffyd stirred we both jumped. His eyes opened and his hands went to the sword. He sat up, “I thought it was a dream.”

  “A dream?”

  “Yes father. I was in a cave. It was the cave where we were trapped and the witch was coming for me. She took the form of a giant wyrme. Kara, Ylva and Elfrida came to protect me but the wyrme ate them. I ran as far into the cave as I could go. When I could go no further I turned to face my enemy. Suddenly I found I held Ragnar’s Spirit and I smote the head from the wyrme.”

  Haaken touched his dragon, “Each time I think I understand the power of this sword I am surprised.”

  Gruffyd swung his legs from the table upon which he had been laid. He handed me the sword. “Is it over, father? Will the witch be coming again?”

  I shook my head, “The battle was fought. I slew Baggi Skull Splitter. Snorri died bravely, he slew the Danish witch. The world is safer now without their spawn. And we have saved our own. Ylva is the Viking witch and she will only grow in power.”

  Epilogue

  It was the middle of Mörsugur when we finally returned to Cyninges-tūn. We had many wounded to tend. We had dead to bury and enemies to burn. There was treasure and weapons to share and I had a jarl to appoint. Eystein the Brave had been one of Ulf’s hearth-weru. He was the only one to survive and I knew he would be a good leader. When all was done, we headed home. The wounded rode and the rest of us walked. Olaf’s wound was the worst he had suffered. He had to be brought back on a cart; he hated it.

  There were homes without men. We had paid a heavy price. The wives, daughters and mothers accepted their loss. They knew that they would be cared for. That was the way of the clan but we mourned. We feasted too for that was our way. We sang songs to remember them and their loss. Snorri’s wife and his son, Bjorn, were brought to live with Kara and her family. Ylva found the presence of the baby comforting. She was now a woman and her experiences both in meeting the witch and the events since had changed her. Snorri’s son, Bjorn, was a means for her to adjust to her new life.

  Ragnar had changed too. He had fought well but he had seen men die for him. That was always a humbling experience. On our way back to our home he had told me that he now knew that he could be a better leader. Einar would be his mentor and they would choose warriors to follow him. We had lost so many warriors that our training and practice was even more important. Ragnar was determined to help create as many new warriors as he could. It was wyrd.

  Aðils and Beorn returned to tell us that Ketil had chased the survivors of the battle until there was no trace of them left. Beorn said, “We did not get them all but the ones who escaped us will never dare set foot in this land again.”

  He had then left to return to Úlfarrberg. He wished to pay his respects to Snorri who lay in the barrow with Ulla, Ulf and Erik. Brigid refused to allow Gruffyd out of her sight. I received dark looks. She blamed me for his wound. I summoned Aðils Shape Shifter as Þorri began. Ragnar and Einar the Tall were already in my hall, “We have a task to perform. I owe a duty to those who died to pay back those who betrayed us.”

  “But grandfather the witch and the Skull Takers are dead!”

  “We had spies in our land and we go to find them. They thought that they had escaped us but they have not. I would have you three come with me. Many of my Ulfheonar would come but this is a task for a few and I chose you.”

  Einar said, “Speaking for myself, jarl, I am honoured.”

  Ragnar said, “As are we all.”

  “Then say farewell to your mother. We leave on the morrow.”

  After they had gone to prepare for our journey I went to Brigid to tell her what I intended. “But who are these spies? What good will it do to hunt them down? You could be killed and for what? Nothing! The spies, whoever they were, are gone! You know who they are and they will not return. The White Christ says to forgive.”

  “I am not of the White Christ and it is not nothing. These spies insinuated themselves into our land. They gained the confidence of our people. My task is necessary. It discourages others who would do the same and it warns my people of the dangers we face here, in the heart of the Land of the Wolf. We do not forgive and we never forget. You hurt us and we will remember. Unless my enemies prise Ragnar’s Spirit from my dead hand I will fight them until there is no breath left in my body!”

  She waved an irritated hand at me. “This is a nonsense. It is winter. The spies are long gone and you will not be able to follow a trail. I am not even certain that you know who they are!”

  I looked at her and told her who the spies were. She blanched and her hand went to her cross. “Truly?”

  “Have you ever known me to be foresworn? I ha
ve had it confirmed by Kara. I know where they will flee and I will find them.”

  “What will you do to them when you find them?”

  “That is simple. I will take them somewhere quiet and tell them that they will die and then Ragnar’s Spirit will take their lives.”

  “Both of them?”

  “Both of them. Then I will return home and we will watch our land for other enemies. This land, the Land of the Wolf shall be the wolf’s fortress. None shall harm us again.”

  The End

  Glossary

  Afon Hafron- River Severn in Welsh

  Alpín mac Echdach – the father of Kenneth MacAlpin, reputedly the first king of the Scots

  Alt Clut- Dumbarton Castle on the Clyde

  An Lysardh - Lizard Peninsula Cornwall

  Balley Chashtal -Castleton (Isle of Man)

  Bardanes Tourkos- Rebel Byzantine General

  Bebbanburgh- Bamburgh Castle, Northumbria also known as Din Guardi in the ancient tongue

  Beck- a stream

  Beinn na bhFadhla- Benbecula in the Outer Hebrides

  Belesduna - Basildon

  Blót – a blood sacrifice made by a jarl

  Blue Sea- The Mediterranean

  Bondi- Viking farmers who fight

  Bourde- Bordeaux

  Bjarnarøy –Great Bernera (Bear Island)

  Byrnie- a mail or leather shirt reaching down to the knees

  Caerlleon- Welsh for Chester

  Caer Ufra -South Shields