Leif gazed at the dragon on the prow. He narrowed his eyes and exhaled through the thumb and forefinger stroking the hair under his nostrils. He turned to Bjarte and asked, “What do you know of Greek fire?”
Bjarte, recalling knowledge gained from years spent in libraries, said, “Greek fire is a mixture of flammable materials. First used by Greeks in antiquity and later put to use by the Byzantine empire. The material was forced under pressure through a system of tubes and siphons. At one point in the system the liquid material was set on fire, resulting in a fiery stream being thrown out of the end of the siphon. The siphon was aimed from the prows of ships or from siege towers.”
“I know what it is …” Leif said. “… I need to know how to make it,” he added.
“The composition of Greek fire is not fully known, being no scientific evidence to support this. Many have come up with the notion that it was composed of pine resin, naphtha, quicklime, sulfur, or niter.”
“Can we find the materials needed to make this?” Leif asked Bjarte.
“Any plant resin will suffice.” Bjarte motioned to the trees on the shore. He added, “There is an abundance of fauna on the island.”
“What about the other things you mentioned?” Leif asked.
“As I said, their is much conjecture as to what makes up Greek fire. I’ve read that resin and quicklime, mixed in the right quantities, will produce the viscous and flammable properties needed to employ Greek fire as a weapon.”
“Would it be possible to make Greek fire here from things we can find on the island?”
Bjarte hesitated. He glanced at the bronze dragon head. It was becoming clearer. “I see what you’re thinking, Captain Erikson,” Bjarte said. “You wish to use Greek fire against the enemies of Sakawaduit.”
“Greek fire, now I remember from where I heard that,” Ulf said. “My grandfather told me stories about a battle fought in the Middle Sea. He was a Norwegian mercenary fighting for an Italian prince. On this job he was part of a crew of deck fighters. The prince’s fleet, twenty ships in all, attacked a smaller fleet of war ships off the coast of Constantinople. The two fleets met. The Byzantines fled when they sighted the Italian ships approaching under red sail. When the Byzantine ships reached the inshore waters they turned to face the incoming Italian fleet.
“My grandfather said the captains of the ships in the Italian fleet saw that the enemy had made ready for a fight. The Italian fleet closed in. Mercenaries made ready to board the Turkish ships. Spirits were high. My grandfather told me the men around him said it looked like it was going to be easy pickings. Soon, they’d be back in a tavern, drinking strong wine and bedding women.
“Moments before the first ships in the Italian fleet closed with the Byzantine fleet, smoke and fire burst forth from the prows of three of the enemy ships. A great sound, like thunder rumbling across the sky, came with the fire. The fiery tongue reached out as far as a man could throw a heavy stone. It stuck to anything it touched and kept burning. Men shrouded in flames jumped overboard. Even sea water would not put out the flames of this fire. My grandfather remembers watching the men in the water still burning as they sank into the clear water of the Middle Sea. He had nightmares about it his whole life.”
“That is an accurate account of the use of Greek fire in naval combat,” Bjarte said. “You’re grandfather was fortunate to survive that.”
“All this time I thought it was just an old man making up war stories,” Ulf nodded. He’d found a new respect for his long dead grandfather.
“Contrary to popular belief among some naval historians, Greek fire was not used in all naval battles the Byzantines engaged in,” Bjarte said. “Weather conditions had to be ideal. It was not a practical weapon on the high seas. A ship needed calm water and had to be fairly close to another ship for the fire to be effective. It was —”
“Can we make Greek fire and find a way to use it?” Leif asked again. Leif had decided to cut Bjarte off before he went on much further with his learned ramblings. He hoped he’d get a yes or no answer in return. He doubted it.
“Finding the materials to make the fire would be simple,” Bjarte said. “People have been making quicklime for thousands of years. It is formed from limestone or seashells that have been heated. When the heating is done the resulting powder must be mixed with water to maintain stability. Mixing the pine resin and quicklime to get a material with the desired properties would be a matter of trial and error. Finding a way to throw the burning liquid from the ship without setting fire to the ship would be the most difficult task.”
“Hard to do, but it can be done,” Leif prompted for a short answer.
“It can be done,” Bjarte nodded.
Leif was relieved. He’d gotten what he’d wanted from Bjarte. The time for talk was over. The time for action could begin.
Fourteen
Sakawaduit gets his Answer
“WHAT would we need to make Greek fire and how could we make the flames come out of the mouth of the dragon on the prow?” Leif ask Bjarte. It was a big question. Bjarte thought about what Leif asked. He went below. Leif and Ulf waited. The morning wore on. Overhead, in a blue sky, the sun hovered mid-way between dawn and noon. Bjarte, scroll in hand, finally returned.
“At the heart of a Greek fire engine is a hearth or furnace,” Bjarte said, pulling himself onto the upper deck. He unrolled the scroll and laid it out on the gunwale.
“We have those.” Leif knew the blacksmith had two small stone kilns and a set of bellows.
“A tin container, filled with the liquid mixture of resin and quick lime, sits atop the hearth. The container must be sealed when being used …” Bjarte trailed off.
“Is there more?” Leif asked when he saw Bjarte hesitate.
“A pump is connected to one side of the container at the top. On the other side, at the bottom of the container, another pipe is connected. This pipe has a handle built into it. The handle is turned to release the hot liquid that is now under pressure from the pump mounted on the other side. The hot liquid travels along the lower pipe to be ejected at a nozzle where the pipe ends. A flame ignites the hot liquid as it pours out of the …” Bjarte trailed off again, he seemed to be searching for a word. He furrowed his brows, scanning the scroll as he dragged it across the edge of the gunwale. When he saw the word he was looking for he said, “… cheirosiphōn.”
“What?” Leif asked. He’d heard the tongue of the Francs and the word had the same sounds.
“Cheirosiphōn, it means hand siphon. It is the name given to the part of the engine that throws the flame. It would be simple enough to build the base of the engine from what we have on board the ship; however, building the pumps and valves needed to pressurize and control the flow of the mixture would be extremely difficult.”
Leif knew Bjarte well enough to know when he used the word however a problem would arise. Leif was way ahead of Bjarte now. He knew the answer to the problem Bjarte put forth: “King Olaf had this ship outfitted with a set of metal pumps, one at the stern and one at the bow. I’ve seen them, between the pumps, pipes, and handles, they are a perfect mate for the things you are talking about.”
“If that is true, we can build this engine,” Bjarte said. “Making it work without burning the ship to the water line is a story untold,” Bjarte muttered under his breath.
Leif pretended not to hear this. “It is true, we have the pumps,” Leif assured Bjarte. King Olaf’s master shipwright had given Leif a tour of the Ormr in langi the day before they sailed from the harbor at Trondheim. He showed Lief the pumps and how to work them. Two men, one manning each pump, could empty the ship of water in much less time than it would take the whole crew passing buckets from hand to hand.
“It’s almost as if we’re being given divine guidance,” Bjarte bowed his head. He made the sign of the cross.
“Odin smiles on us,” Ulf said.
Leif didn’t care one way or another — many pagan gods or the one Christian God — to him
it just worked out that there was a pump that drained water from the ship on board — this pump could be used in the building of the engine that poured the Greek fire.
■ ■ ■ ■
On the shore, warriors milled about in the area of the shore where Sakawaduit’s log boat had been beached. The helmsman walked up and climbed on deck. The sun was high. A group of people walked through the encampment. It was Sakawaduit and his guard, his mates, and Draskawindit. Sakawaduit and his party boarded the log boat. The oarsmen, bodies covered in red ochre, pushed off from the beach.
The chief’s log boat pulled alongside the Ormr in langi. When the two boats were moored together, Draskawindit spoke: “Greetings from Chief Sakawaduit.”
“Greetings to Sakawaduit and his people,” Leif said.
“The sun is high. Sakawaduit wants to know what Skipper Leif has to tell him.”
Leif had two choices: If he said no, they may have to fight their way to the open sea, if he said yes, they would be facing an enemy from the deck of a fire ship. He made the decision. “Tell Sakawaduit that my answer is yes,” Leif replied. “We will help him.”
When Draskawindit finished telling Sakawaduit what Leif had told her she said in return, “Sakawaduit is happy to hear this. He wants to know when will Skipper Leif use the big boat to stomp on his enemies.”
Leif hesitated. He turned to Bjarte. “How long will it take to build this flame throwing engine?”
“One moment,” Bjarte answered. He climbed down to the lower deck, returning with a stylus and vellum scroll. Bjarte made a quick sketch of the engine. He drew in the bailing system while Leif told Bjarte what the, pipes, valves, and nozzles looked like. Bjarte held the scroll at arm’s length: “One full day to dismantle one of the pumps and drill and connect the piping to the tin pot.
“One day to mix and set flame to the mixture to see if it burns in the way we want.
“One day to set up the components of the engine and fit the piping to run through the dragon head.”
“Three days in all,” Leif sighed. From the looks of things Chief Sakawaduit was eager to settle some old scores. “If all these things you speak of could be done at the same time, how much time could we shave?”
Bjarte did a quick cipher in his head. “That is simple, Captain Erikson,” he answered. “If we build the engine in the manner you suggest, we should be able to do it in one day. One long day, I might add.”
Fifteen
Building the Engine
NOW that Leif had made a commitment to Chief Sakawaduit the time had come to take action. To Draskawindit Leif said, “Tell Sakawaduit we need ...” He trailed off and turned to Bjarte. “How much plant resin and quick lime will you need?” He asked.
“Give them two of the large cooking pots to be filled with resin. Gather as many sea shells as possible, if they are small, more would be needed, less if the shells are larger.”
“Tell Draskawindit what you just told me,” Leif said. Bjarte gave Draskawindit the message. Draskawindit passed the message onto Sakawaduit. The chief nodded. He signaled to the helmsman. The helmsman signaled the oarsman. The oarsmen untied and rowed Sakawaduit and his party back to shore.
Leif, Ulf, and Bjarte got to work: they determined what materials were needed to build the Greek fire engine, what tools were needed and which crew-members would be involved.
Bjarte made notes. He rewrote the notes then refined the initial crude drawing of the fire throwing engine. “Shall we begin?” Bjarte asked.
“Building materials first,” Leif said. From the kitchen, Ulf grabbed a copper cooking pot. He carried it back to the deck of the pilot house.
Leif stood before the blacksmith. “Vidar,” he said. “I have a request.”
“Yes ...” Vidar continued hammering the cooling piece of metal he held between a pair of long-handled tongs.
“When you are finished with that I need you to bring one of your kilns to the bow of the ship.”
“Very well, skipper.”
“I will tell you why later,” Leif said, seeing the puzzled look on Vidar’s face.
Leif visited the master carpenter. They looked at the drain pump mounted near the bow. “Roscoe,” Leif began. “Can you remove the pump and seal the holes.”
Roscoe looked at the components of the pump. He followed the copper piping leading through the wooden planks of the hull. Roscoe hesitated. Leif knew he was going over how to do the job in his head. “When do you need this done, Skipper?”
“I need this done as soon as possible.”
“Before the other tasks I have?”
“Yes, this job comes first. Above anything else.”
“I’ll need some lads to help me pull this thing out of here.”
“It is done,” Leif said.
Leif returned to the bow. Vidar and a crewmen set the clay kiln on the deck. “Is this where you want it?” Vidar asked when he saw Leif.
Leif looked at the kiln. “Push it as far forward as you can. Leave enough room for shoring blocks.”
Vidar and the crewman moved the kiln across the flat ribbing. Leif said, “Once the kiln is shored up, prepare it for fire. Bring the copper kettle forward. Set the kettle over the kiln. Get with Roscoe. He will mark holes on the kettle, one at the top on the inboard side and one at the bottom on the outboard side. Use your star drill to tap and finish these holes.”
Leif left Vidar and his helper to shore up the kiln. He jumped into the hatch way below the deck ribbing. Roscoe and two helpers had already removed the hand pump. Roscoe set the pump on the deck when he saw Leif. “Take one of the pipes and bring it above. Set the pipes against the copper kettle. Vidar will show you where. Mark the circle of the pipe, and finish the job down here.”
“Aye, skipper,” Roscoe said.
While the crew worked on the Greek fire engine, Leif looked toward shore. Beothuk women roamed the beaches, bending to pick of objects on the sand. The objects were placed in baskets. Women carried pieces of wood out of the forest. Leif jumped down from the pilot house. He walked forward. Vidar, twisted the shaft of the star drill, tapping the head at the same time. Below decks, Roscoe removed the handle from the pipe leading out to sea.
Draskawindit paddled a small log boat from shore. “We are done collecting the resin and shells,” she said.
“Bjarte,” Leif called down to the deck below.
Bjarte looked up from the scroll he worked on.
“The Beothuk have gathered the resin and the shells.”
Bjarte rolled up the scroll and set it in the holder. It was time to get to work. “The resin we can bring on board. The shells have to be burned and pounded into a powder. I need to cut the powder with water.”
Leif repeated what he’d heard from Bjarte. Once Leif passed the message onto Draskawindit, she set the blade of the paddle in the water and turned the log boat toward shore.
There wasn’t much for Leif to do. He didn’t want to stand around and watch men work. If Vidar or Roscoe had any questions they would ask.
■ ■ ■ ■
Leif and Bjarte stood on the bow. Vidar was putting the finishing touches on the holes in the copper kettle. A square frame of wooden blocks braced the kiln against the deck. “This looks good,” Bjarte remarked when he set the end of a pipe into the holes on either side of the kettle.
One of Roscoe’s helpers brought up the parts of the pump while Roscoe, hanging from a leather chair, packed the outboard holes with pine tar then forced wooden plugs into the cavities. The second helper worked on the inboard holes.
“This kettle needs to be covered,” Bjarte said.
“We have coverings for those,” Leif said.
“That won’t do. Those tops must be sealed. No air can escape.”
Leif thought about it, then he asked Vidar, “Could you make a covering for this pot from an iron helmet? One with a tight fit.”
Vidar stroked his chin. He looked at the kettle. “Because of the thickness of the iron used, I should be abl
e to draw out the helmet to the size needed.”
Roscoe called to be hoisted back up to the deck. He climbed over the gunwale. “The pump is clear and the holes are patched, skipper,” he said.
“Good, now you can start on putting the engine together. Bjarte will direct you Roscoe.”
“Vidar,” Leif turned to the blacksmith. “Melt a helmet and make the top for the kettle.”
Sixteen
Sakawaduit’s Enemy
ROSCOE the carpenter, and Vidar the blacksmith, worked on the Ormr in langi the rest of the day. Toward evening, when the sun was sinking low, the Greek fire throwing engine was in place on the bow. A bellows sat in front of the kiln. The copper kettle sat atop the kiln. On the inboard side, copper pipe led from a hand pump to the top of the kettle. On the outboard side, another length of copper pipe led from the bottom of the kettle. The bronze valve from the pump had been placed one foot from the kettle. The copper pipe disappeared into the bow and snaked its way up into the prow.
“I found something in the hold that might be of use,” Ulf said to Leif as Leif climbed back on board. He’d been in the small boat with Roscoe. They’d been looking at the dragon head prow. A piece of bronze, the nozzle from the drain, sat in the mouth of the beast like a strange tooth.
“What is it?” Leif asked.
“Twenty shields, one for every oarsman,” Ulf answered.
Leif had forgotten all about the shields. He had ordered them stripped from the gunwales when the ship was clear of the coast of Norway. They had been oiled and covered and stowed in the hold. The damned things just added more weight to the ship. “I’ll ask Bjarte,” Leif answered. The monk would know what to do with the shields.
■ ■ ■ ■
On shore, Bjarte looked at the roaring fire. He could see the mound of shells glowing at the base of the flames. The fire must burn itself out. It would be hours before the flames died. More hours for the burnt shells to cool. The powdery substance left behind was difficult to handle. Chemical properties enhanced by the fire and heat transformed the powder into a powerful irritant. Contact with bare skin could cause burning and blistering. If the powder touched the eyes it could cause pain and temporary blindness. If inhaled deeply it could damage the air passages.
Leif Erikson and the Frost Giant Page 5
