by Griff Hosker
“Well, young Sámr, you have skills with a bow. How are you with a sword?”
“Not as good Leif Longshanks as I am with a bow but I am not fully grown and I practise all that I can.” I was pleased that he showed modesty. No one liked a boastful warrior.
“Jarl, will he wield the sword that was touched by the gods when he is older?”
“That is not my decision, Sweyn. The sword will decide that.” I smiled, “Of course if I should die on this voyage then…”
“I am sorry Jarl Dragonheart. I meant nothing by that. Forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive. We all know that death hangs over me like an axe. I have lived a long time. I have buried two wives, a son and a grandson. When the Allfather takes me, I cannot complain. I have done all that a warrior can expect.”
Sven Stormbringer changed the subject. “I was speaking with the Jew, David ben Samuel. He told me that men can buy good swords in Miklagård.”
Harald Jorgensen took a deep drink from the wine skin, “That needs coin and we are already deeply in the Jarl’s debt for the clothes we wear and the sandals on our feet.”
The clothes and the shoes are a gift. You owe me nothing for them.”
“Thank you. Will we have a chance to raid between here and Miklagård, jarl?”
“I am not certain that we can raid but who knows what the Norns will throw in our way. None of us expected the galley that brought you four to us. The swords we gave you will have to do.”
They nodded sagely and Sven sipped the stew. “It is tasting good. By the time the others return it will be ready.”
I stood, “I cannot see that being for some time. I will have some of the bread we bought and take my potion.”
Sámr looked concerned, “Are you unwell, great grandfather?”
“Let us say that a sleep would not come amiss. Even if I were not ill then I would still enjoy a nap at about this time. The day has been hot and the sun is setting. Sunset is faster here than at home. Give me a bowl of the broth from the stew. I will tell you if it needs seasoning.”
Sven had poured in some of the wine from the amphora. I drank some of the wine to slake my thirst. I ate the broth; it needed more seasoning but the taste was good. I dipped the bread into it and finished off the liquor. They looked at me expectantly. “Delicious. When Aiden returns ask him if he bought some pepper. A sprinkle of that would not hurt.”
“Pepper?”
“Ask Aiden, Ulf. Now I will sleep. I will have the whole drekar to myself.” The gangplank was in darkness. When the crew returned it would be a merry feast. They would not need an old man who was close to death spoiling it. I took off my boots and laid my wolf cloak on the deck. It was a warm night and I would not need any blankets or my cloak. I made water and then drank the potion. I had not been speaking untruths. I was tired. Placing Ragnar’s Spirit and Wolf’s Blood next to me, close to my hands, I lay down. Soon I was asleep and I dreamed.
I saw skulls. There was a sea of skulls. They rose around me like the waves of a stormy ocean. Blood oozed from them. The only noise I could hear was the chanting of witches. Four of them danced around a fire. Their faces were half-eaten away. They turned towards me and came closer and closer. I saw worms coming from their eyes and rotting flesh. The blood which oozed from the skulls came like a torrent towards me. I looked down and my kyrtle was soaked with blood. I could not move and then a white shape came towards me.
I woke. I put my hand down and discovered that my kyrtle was soaked in blood. As I began to rise I saw a sword raised above me. It was wielded by a figure in a white robe. This was no dream. This was real. As the sword descended I did two things at the same time. I reached for one of my weapons. As luck would have it I found myself holding Ragnar’s Spirit. At the same time, I swept my feet out. My foot connected with the shin of my attacker. It hurt me but it unbalanced him. Even falling he still tried to skewer me. I was already rolling away as the sword hacked into my wolf cloak. I scrambled to my feet and lunged at him with Ragnar’s Spirit. I had bled but the moment I had touched the sword it was as though I had been touched by the gods again. I felt immortal.
My would-be killer had hoped that just a sword and a blade in the night would have been sufficient. He had found that it was not. I was a hard man to kill. Now he reached for his dagger. Mine was on the deck behind him. I backed away. I was dimly aware of a great deal of noise and laughter coming from the quay. Someone had told the others something funny and there was a cacophony of roars and guffaws. My men were enjoying the food and the wine. They would not come to my aid. It was up to me. I backed away and reached behind me with my left hand. When I reached the sheerstrake I found a coil of rope. I prayed that it was not tied to anything. I grabbed it and found that it was not. As a weapon it had little to commend it but it was better than nothing. The deck was in darkness. I could not see my assassin’s face for the hood of the Arab cloak they call a bisht was about his face. Yet there was something familiar about his movements.
He feinted with his sword. I know not how I knew it was a feint but I did. Perhaps fifty years of such combat had instilled the instinct into my bones. I was backed against the side of the ship. I let the end of the rope slip through my fingers. I did so surreptitiously as his sword and dagger wove intricate patterns before me. I could not see his eyes. If you could see a warrior’s eyes then you knew what he intended. I would have to rely on my gut feeling. When I had a length of rope as long as arm hanging down I feinted too with my sword. At the same time, I whipped the end of the rope across his face. I hit him. Perhaps I struck his eye; I know not but he reeled from the strike. He flailed his arms before him but I did not aim at his body. I lunged at his leg and hit his thigh. I twisted as I withdrew the sword. I swung the end of the rope hard a second time and this time aimed at the right hand which held the sword. I connected. Although he held on to the sword I knew that his hand would be numb. I stabbed towards his middle with Ragnar’s Spirit. Unlike most swords this one, the pinnacle of Bagsecg’s skill as a swordsmith, was pointed. His left hand came across to block the blow with his dagger. He did not quite make it. The tip struck his chest and the edge scored a line across the back of his hand. I must have hit something vital for the dagger clattered to the deck. I swung the rope again and hit him on the side of the head. I lunged once more and this time he had no defence. My sword entered his right side and slid through his ribs. He fell backwards, the sword falling from his fingers.
It was only then that I thought to shout, “Clan of the Wolf!”
I felt weak. I did not know if it was from the blood from my body or something else. I dropped to my knees. I saw that the assassin was Pridbjørn Ellesefsson! I knelt over his body. “You! But why?” Realisation came to me. “I am the one you swore to kill, but why? What have I done to you?”
He laughed and a tendril of blood came from his cheek. I was dimly aware of feet thundering up the gangplank. “I could have killed you a dozen times at sea but I wanted to escape with your sword. I would be the warrior who wielded the sword that was touched by the gods.”
“What did I ever do to you?”
“I was one of Eggle the Skulltaker’s warriors. I swore that you would die when he was killed. When you slew my mother, Ellesef Ship-Breast, then it became a quest which would shape my life. I…” I learned no more. His eyes glazed over. The deck beneath him was covered in blood. He would not be in Valhalla. His sword was lying by his feet. I would not have to face him in the Otherworld.
I looked up and saw Aiden and Sámr along with Haaken One Eye. There were staring at me. They had a lantern and Sámr’s eyes and face were filled with horror for the bottom half of my kyrtle was soaked in blood. I smiled, “It is not a wound. It is the illness but I came as close to death this night as ever before. You heard?”
They nodded. Sámr said, “From now on I do not leave your side! I was enjoying myself and you were here at death’s door. How could I have faced those at home?”
Haaken One Eye put his arm around my great grandson, “We are all to blame. We forgot why we were here. Like the rest I thought that defeating the galleys was the end of the danger. I was wrong. The Norns have spun a web which is so complex that even Aiden our galdramenn cannot fathom it.”
Aiden nodded, “You are right. I may gain knowledge here in this land of wonder but the further I am from the Water the less powers I have. I saw nothing! I fear that I am only a healer until we return to the Land of the Wolf. You are right Haaken One Eye, we have forgotten why we are here. We all watch the Dragonheart until we return home.”
The rest of the crew came aboard. Like Sámr and the others they stared in horror at the gory mess on the deck. Haaken took charge. “Get rid of this filth. Wash away all traces of him. Olaf Leather Neck, mount a guard on the gangplank. Let no one near. Aiden, Sámr, find the Dragonheart clean clothes. Once more he has borne the brunt of the ire of the Norns! He is their bane! We must become his protectors!”
I was exhausted and Aiden insisted upon a second potion. I slept and it was a dreamless sleep. For that I was grateful. When I awoke it was to the motion of the ship as we headed east. We had left before dawn. All of the crew wished to be away from the place which had almost seen my end. Sámr was close by, almost my shadow. “Sámr, we are at sea. I know that you are concerned but there is no danger here. It is daylight and I am safe. You are a ship’s boy. Do not let others do your work for you!”
David ben Samuel said, “I will watch the Dragonheart for you, Sámr. I promise he will come to no harm.” Sámr nodded and ran to join the other ship’s boys. “He barely slept, jarl but then few of the crew did either. They blamed themselves.”
“They had no need. They could have done nothing about it. This was meant to be. When you kill a witch then the Norns do not forget.”
He shook his head, “You are over sixty?” I nodded. “Then you are truly remarkable for Pridbjørn Ellesefsson was half your age and not ridden by a disease. I am pleased that my uncle sent me with you. I have learned much.”
I laughed, “As have we all. Now there must be food! I am famished!”
Chapter 8
We sailed south and east for two days. We had the open sea and then we saw the many islands which formed Greece. The first large island we passed was Kerkyra. David ben Samuel pointed to the huge fortification at the north west corner of the island. “That is Angelokastro. If any enemy threatens this island or this side of the Empire then they would have to reduce that stronghold. I do not think it could be done.” He looked at me, “Could you take it Dragonheart?”
I peered at the stone edifice perched high on a rock above the sea. “It would be hard I agree but why would I want to take it? Does it contain treasure? Holy books? Men we could ransom?”
“There would be some.”
I laughed, “I am guessing that there would be more on the rest of the islands. I would take them and leave. We are not interested in conquering land unless we would choose to live there. No disrespect, David ben Samuel but we would not wish to live here. It is not green enough.”
“Captain, there are ships anchored beneath the stronghold. One comes over to us.”
We had not been certain if the Imperial ships understood the convention of shields on the sides of a drekar but, just to be safe, we had then inboard. They did not line the ship. The small galley which came towards us was smaller than we were. The presence of another five larger galleys guaranteed that we would behave.
“Take in the sail.”
They bumped gently alongside us. Their captain jabbered away and David ben Samuel answered him. I saw Aiden struggling to keep up. He turned to me, “David is saying who we are.” There was a further conversation and this time the captain of the galley pointed south and west. Aiden shook his head, “I did not get enough of that to make sense of it but from the gist I gathered that there is trouble further south.”
The galley left and we used the sail again. The breeze was gentle but, as it came from the west it aided us and meant we did not have to row. The days were much hotter. Rowing in these temperatures was not healthy. It was Skerpla. David ben Samuel told us that in two months’ time it would be even hotter. I hoped that, by then we were at Miklagård where we would be able to take advantage of cool buildings rather than the open sea.
“There has been an uprising further south in Greece. Achaea is a large province and the city of Kalamata and the surrounding area has risen in revolt.” He shrugged, “The local governor was something of a thief. That is normal but he also had an eye for young girls and that offended the locals. There is an army heading south to deal with it but the seaways are no longer safe. We were recommended to head for Corinth and take another ship from there. It would be quicker.” He smiled, “I told them you would not agree to that and he said then he could not guarantee our safety.”
I nodded, “We mean the locals no harm but if they offer violence then I am afraid that they will suffer.”
David shook his head, “It is not the ones who are revolting that have caused the trouble; it is the ones taking advantage of the lack of Imperial ships and troops. There are pirates, brigands and bandits. They prey on those who revolt as well as any traveller passing through their waters.”
“And we have to sail through their hunting ground?”
“We do. We would have to sail almost to Kriti to avoid them.”
I nodded, “The Norns continue to make our lives difficult. I hope that these doctors in Miklagård are all that Aiden has promised!”
Aiden’s face became serious. “They are your only hope, Dragonheart.”
We had six days of easy sailing through the safer waters south of Kerkyra. We were able to find deserted islands where we could anchor and cook. We did not wish to risk the islands at night. It was when we turned due east that we entered the troubled waters. Almost as soon as we saw the land of Achaea to the north we were spied by a ship. It was not a galley. It had a lateen sail and a square sail. David recognised it as the type used by pirates. The men prepared weapons but the ship seemed happy to shadow us.
“Erik, tonight we anchor at sea. This ship is a scout. It does not bode well.”
David and Aiden joined me as we watched the ship, towards sunset, slip away north. “If it is any consolation, Jarl Dragonheart, we can count the rest of the voyage in days.”
I nodded, “Yes, David ben Samuel but those days have nights too and it seems that we have found ourselves in a world of danger.”
What we had learned was that this part of the world could turn from a benign sun-soaked sea into a maelstrom of rain and strong winds. We anchored at sunset. There were too many islands, shoals and hidden rocks in this sea to risk sailing at night time. So it proved. I was awoken by Arne in the middle of the night. The ship was pitching violently. “Jarl a wind has come from the south. We are being driven north. There are islands there. We saw them as we sailed here. My father says we should man the oars and try to get us south.”
“He is captain!”
Arne shouted, “Rowers, man the oars!”
We had sea room to the south. To the north was Achaea and pirates. We would have to add time to our voyage if we were to reach it safely.
Erik shouted, “Ship’s boys get the anchors in and then take an oar. We will need everyone to get us to safety.”
I saw him looking at the mast and the yard. We could not afford to lose either of them. As the oars were run out and the anchors taken in the strength of the wind increased. Erik put the steering board over and once the oars began to bite the movement of the drekar became less violent. The oars did not have to propel us south; they just had to stop us being driven north. There was no chant. There was no song. The crew just kept a steady stroke as we waited for dawn. Once dawn came then we would be able to run with the wind. The lookouts could watch for rocks. It was the darkness which was the danger.
Dawn, when it came, was not blue; it was grey and the wind had not abated but we could now see
where we were. Erik sent Lars up the mast. It pitched alarmingly but Lars seemed not to be troubled. “What can you see?”
“There is land to the north, captain, but it is a long way away.”
“Ship’s boys, lower the sail. Oars, prepare to withdraw.”
I saw the relief on the faces of the crew. For the former slaves this was the first time they had had to row since they had been rescued. I guessed this had felt different. They were not chained and they were surrounded by brothers in arms. I felt some trepidation as I saw Sámr scamper up the yard. In all the years I had been sailing accidents had been few and far between. I did not want Sámr to be one.
Erik turned the steering board. He needed the oars to continue to row to keep the way on her as she turned. He did not wish her to broach. His timing was perfect. As the sail billowed he shouted, “In oars! Take in a couple of reefs! I do not wish to lose the mast.” We did not need the full sail. We headed north and east. The wind would try to push us to the mainland but we could avoid the rocks and shallows which might harm us.
All day we were buffeted by the wind. We saw that not all the ships which plied these waters had been as well handled as ours. At what passed for noon we passed some wreckage. It was then that the wind began to abate and our voyage became less frenetic. Erik sought an anchorage for the night. Siggi was the lookout and he shouted, “Island to the south east, captain.” Aiden took out the chart we had bought. It was not marked upon it.
“Is there habitation?”
“No Captain. It has a beach and there are two trees. It is smaller than Whale Island.”
Erik nodded, “Then we anchor there. The men need hot food and I need to go over the ship and check for damage.”
We saw the island. It was little more than a rock jutting out of the water but there was a beach. As we neared it I saw that it was about two hundred paces by a hundred and fifty paces. One side was a beach and the white water on the opposite side suggested rocks and shoals. We went in very slowly. Lookouts manned the bow but there were, mercifully, no rocks. Erik turned us so that we could be dragged up onto the beach. We hauled ‘Heart’ on to the beach. Once ashore we set about collecting driftwood for a fire. Erik and Arne examined the hull for damage. They had to work quickly for night was coming. When they were satisfied we had the task of dragging the drekar back into the water. It was exhausting but necessary. It took so long that we had hot food ready by the time the drekar was tied off the beach and facing the sea. If we had to leave in a hurry we could.