Viking Slave

by Griff Hosker

  My heart sank, “You mean we will not finish it tomorrow?”

  He laughed, “This will protect you in battle and when you row aboard the dragon ship. It is not to be made quickly. Your heart needs to go into the construction. You need not fear, One Eye will not raid again until the leaves begin to fall.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He is careful, like his father was. He will want two ships and more warriors. He is ambitious. Marrying the princess was an astute move. Although I think her father cannot think much of her. He has made no attempt to rescue her and he stuck her in the church of the White Christ. Still our Jarl is now a rich man. Watch his oathsworn; soon they will each wear a mail byrnie like One Eye.” I could now hear the derision in his voice. He did not like our Jarl. He was his nephew whom he knew well. He knew his son was a better leader.

  I enjoyed making the shield. I had to split the log carefully to get the planks cut accurately. Then I had to shave them until they were smooth. It was a soothing experience and I heeded the old man’s words. My work now might save my life. I did not mind shaping each plank and making sure it was the right width. Once I had the planks ready I was sent to buy some nails from the smith. The old man took some silver coins from a purse. “Here, boy, take these. Call them a gift from your grandfather. You should be able to buy more nails than you can use.”

  I almost flew down to the village. I waved a greeting to my mother and Butar but I only had eyes for the smith. Bagsecg treated me differently this time. The last time I had been a thrall having a collar removed. This day I was a hero of the village and he was pleasant and polite. Once back at my home I could not wait to begin to build my shield but Ragnar made me wait until the next day.

  “We need to do this over a whole day. This part is the most crucial.”

  Once the shield’s structure was acceptable to the fingers of old Ragnar, we began to shape it. I say we, but it was my hands, guided by the touch of Ragnar. When the familiar rounded shape of the shield appeared, all I wanted to do was to hold it but we waited another day. The next day we cut the hole for the boss. The metal disk had cost far more than the nails had but Ragnar assured me that it was worth it. When we hammered the disk into place then the shield looked like a shield. He had me make a slight point to the boss. He said the shield was a weapon too. We had a fine deer hide which covered the shield beautifully. It had spent weeks drying and maturing. The nails hammered around the boss ensured it had strength and integrity. I thought the final part would be to put the leather strap on and the wooden handle but Ragnar shook his head. “Tomorrow we make this into the shield of a warrior.”

  I barely slept as I imagined what the last step would be. I also heard him coughing during the night. I had a disturbed sleep. Ragnar was up before I was and he was busy with water and leaves. “Make some food grandson. I am busy.”

  After we had eaten he gave me the pots with the coloured liquids in and he handed me the brushes made from the tail of a fox we had killed. “Now you paint on your sign.”

  I looked at him in panic. “What sign? What is the sign of Butar?”

  He shook his head. “You are not Butar, you are Dragon Heart who killed a wolf. Close your eyes and let the shield call to you.”

  I did as I was bid and I found my hand creeping to my neck. The sound came to me as clearly as the wound of the wolf pack baying. “The wolf.”

  “Aye grandson, the wolf with the blue eyes. It will mark you out in a battle and men will want to fight you.”

  It took some time to achieve the effect we wanted. The shield was painted red and then I painted on the black wolf with the sharp teeth and finally the blue of the eye which matched the jewel perfectly. I could not believe how beautiful the effect was. And yet Ragnar was still not satisfied. “And now you need to place nails around the edge of the shield for there it is the weakest.”

  I was amazed at the old man. He could barely see and yet he knew the design and the effect by mere touch. I did as I was bid and then added nails strategically placed around the shield. “They will protect you and the shield and they will blunt your enemy’s weapons.” After I had finished he ran his hands around the shield and nodded. “It is good.”

  Once the shield was finished I could not wait to use it but Ragnar was not ready for that. He bid me cut another log from the oak tree the same size as the first one I had cut. I then had to hold that as a shield when I hit the tree with my wooden sword. I could not see the value in using a log and a wooden sword but Ragnar would not be moved and I obeyed. I found both my arms became stronger and I started to move more quickly. Eventually he was happy with my progress and ordered me to hold my real sword and my new shield. They felt as though they were feathers. I could now see what a wise old man he was. He had made me hold heavier objects to strengthen my arms and back.

  That night I noticed him coughing more. It had worsened as spring had progressed. I would have expected the opposite. Eventually I became firm. “Grandfather, let us visit your son. You are not well and you need the healing hands of my mother.”

  When he relented then I knew that he really was ill and we journeyed down to the village. He allowed me to use the sled but insisted that I carry my weapons. It was not easy but I obeyed. My mother and Butar were shocked at Ragnar’s appearance and they put him in their bed immediately. “Why did you not bring him sooner?”

  I felt guilty but I had tried. “It only became worse this last week. He would not come. Remember, my lord, I was his thrall for over a year. I am not used to ordering Ragnar around.”

  Butar’s face softened. “You are right and I am sorry. He is a strong minded man and he has a strong will.”

  I think that Ragnar was just old. There did not seem to be a particular ailment but he slept much more than he had and when he did wake he was not as hungry as he used to be. He enjoyed talking to me and my mother in the evenings but gradually his waking hours became less and less until one morning he just didn’t wake up. His last ten days were in the home of his son and he was tended to by all of us. He died happy I think. We gave him a warrior’s funeral that I knew he wanted. Butar bought a boat from a fisherman. We cleaned it up and laid Ragnar’s furs on the bottom. Ragnar, his sword and his shield, were laid on board. He was dressed in his finest clothes with his weapons and his treasures. As I placed his shield upon his chest I reflected that he had waited until my shield was finished before he chose to leave this life. In my mind I think he was ready to die and he chose his moment. He was passing over to Valhalla to watch over me.

  As we watched the burning boat head towards the sea I cried for I missed the old man already. Even when I had been a slave he had not been cruel to me and had shown me real affection. He had taught me much, from the language of his people to the skills needed to become a warrior.

  Butar put his arms around my mother and me. “Your coming, the two of you gave him longer life and a better one. I can never thank you enough. The last year was a good one for him and he had more purpose. He got to become a warrior again and that was in no small measure due to you, Dragon Heart. When you called him grandfather he felt fulfilled. A man needs a family to live beyond him and he had that with you. He is in the Otherworld now but he will watch over you.”

  After they had left and the burning boat had disappeared beneath the waves I stood there and wept still. I had not cried when my father had been killed but I wept for the half blind one armed man who had changed me from a boy to a man and set me on the course to become a warrior. Whenever I fought I was never alone for in my heart and in my mind I had Ragnar to protect my back and I felt safer. He was always there with me. The dyes he had used to make the paints were part of him and my shield always seemed like part of Ragnar.

  Butar decided that I should live in the village. I was reluctant at first and then he pointed out that I needed to train with the other warriors; ‘Ran’, the new ship, was almost ready and we would be going a-Viking as soon as she was launched. That convinced me. But
ar and I went up to the house to clear out the few belongings which remained there. I found it sad that there was so little remaining of him. When Butar asked me why I looked so unhappy I told him, and he put an arm around me.

  “If you leave objects then you will be forgotten. Ragnar lives here.” He pointed to my head, “and here, “he pointed to my heart. When we feast he will be remembered as you will in the sagas of warriors. He died as famous as when he was a young warrior and that is hard to achieve when you are as old as he. Other warriors envy him and you in equal measure for you are younger than they are. You have achieved much already. Remember that and be a great warrior for Ragnar trained you and set you on your course.”

  That helped and I set to my training with a will. The other young warriors, all of whom were older than me, showed me respect because of my achievements. I had killed warriors in combat. I had killed a wolf. They could only dream of such glory. It also helped that Haaken and Olaf held me in high esteem too.

  The ‘Ran’ was a smaller boat than the ‘Sif’ and had fewer in the crew. There would be but thirty of us aboard her. The majority were young untried warriors like but me we had Olaf and Butar to lead us. I think Harald gave Butar men he thought were not of the highest standard so that his boat would have all the glory while we would take all of the risks. It did not work out that way and Butar’s boat, as the ‘Ran’ became known, became more successful. Butar and Olaf were better sailors than Harald and when we sailed it showed.

  For the first month of late spring we just had to learn to row together. That is not as easy as it sounds but we were all young and willing to learn. My past achievements meant nothing to Olaf who laid about him with his knotted rope whenever he thought we were slacking. We soon stopped making mistakes. We learned to row in time with each other using the long smooth strokes which propelled the boat seemingly effortlessly through the icy waters of the fiord. We learned to obey the shouts of Butar or Olaf instantly so that the ‘Ran’ could jink and spin in the water. She was an agile boat and there was much adjustment to the weight of the boat and the position of the rowers before we were to achieve that perfection which Butar sought. Finally we painted the dragon head at the prow. It had been well carved from the piece of oak but it had been left bare until we were ready. As soon as the red eyes and flaring nostrils were added the boat seemed to become a living beast; we would be the embodiment of the dragon. It was when we sailed that first time with the dragon painted that the crew began a ritual which continued so long as the boat floated. My position was in the middle of the boat and I was always the first one seated. The others boarded and went behind or before me. Haaken impulsively patted me on the head and I looked at him in surprise. He smiled, “I am just making sure that the Dragon Heart of this boat is beating.” The rest of the young crew did the same. I wondered at that until Butar nodded and smiled. I became the lucky mascot of the boat.

  Just before midsummer, Harald decided that we should be ready to raid. He was eager to pay back the men of Stavanger for their treacherous attack and to teach them a lesson. This was the first time we had placed our shields along the side of the boat. Thanks to Ragnar mine looked better than the rest. Or perhaps I just thought so. I knew that Ragnar would look down and be smiling. The time I had taken to paint the image and finish off the shield had been more than justified and I felt proud of my work. The next test would be more severe- it would be in battle.

  When we left Ulfberg we were able to leave more men than the last time Harald had gone raiding. As the smaller of the two ships we followed ‘Sif’. Our boat was the faster for it was lighter and we had an easy row down the fiord towards the open water of the sea. As soon as we left the protection of the high sides of the fiord I noticed that it was harder to row but the seas were still relatively benign. It was still summer and autumn storms were some way off.

  Stavanger was not one place but a number of small settlements with an alliance to Stavanger. That was the port where a Jarl resided but we would not be tackling that one. It would be too hard and we would not have enough warriors. This would be a revenge raid. Harald had chosen the one closest to our settlement and about the same size. It did not matter if the men had not been the ones who raided us, they were part of the same clan, and that was enough. We would leave them a message.

  We halted just along the coast in a deserted inlet which Olaf had used before. I discovered that Olaf was the most experienced of all the men in the village and had been raiding the longest time. We threw our sea anchors out and then ate a frugal meal of bread and cheese. We washed it down with beer and then lay down in the thwarts to sleep until early morning. I was woken in the middle of the night for my watch. I wrapped my fur cloak tightly around me to keep out the damp early morning cold. It might have been summer but this far north it was never warm.

  Haaken smiled, “When you see the false dawn then wake Olaf or Butar. As for me I shall find a warm spot and dream of the slave girls I will capture.”

  There was just me and Heinrik. He was another young warrior, a little older than me. He only had a leather cap and I could see him looking enviously at my iron one. “Did you get that in the raid? From one of the men you killed?”

  “I did.”

  “I will get one today.”

  “I would only worry about that once we have survived. I do not think that this will be easy.”

  “No, but it should be a glorious day. If I die with a sword in my hand then I will go to Valhalla and boast of my deeds.”

  Perhaps you had to be born in this land to understand that idea. I was happy to be a warrior and fight for my stepfather. I was happy for the chance to avenge the attack on my village but I did not want to die; with or without a sword in my hand. It seemed an age but when I saw the false dawn in the east I went to Butar and shook him gently. His eyes opened as I shook him. “I was awake already.” He looked at the sky. “Good. Wake the others.”

  Most of the men were barely asleep. There was a great deal of nervous energy about our ship that morning. This would be the first raid for many of us. We all just wanted to get on with it and we had to force ourselves to eat some bread and wash it down with the beer we had left. Butar spoke to us all before we left to follow ‘Sif’. “It is a village the same size as ours. There is a wooden wall but this one does not have the benefit of a steep climb. It is almost on the beach. Harald One Eye and his men will have the honour of breaching the walls and we will follow them.” I heard the sighs of disappointment. Butar laughed quietly, “You are all young men and have much to learn. Regard this as your apprenticeship. Watch me and watch Olaf. Listen for commands and obey them. None of you are good enough to engage in single combat. I would like to return home with a full crew and plunder.”

  I liked the speech. It was reassuring. We donned our helmets and began to row along the dark coastline to the village sleeping peacefully around the headland. It was so dark that I could barely see ‘Sif’ and yet I knew she was just ahead from our motion as we crossed her wake. We smelled the village before we saw it. It was the smell of wood smoke and animals. We had practised the hand signals and we all raised our oars at precisely the same moment. We silently slid them into the bottom of the boat. We each took our shields from the sides of the boat. Cnut was the one who had been assigned the rope. As he stood close to the prow I could see the walls of the village ahead of us. Cnut disappeared and then there was a small splash. Although I could not see him I knew what he would be doing. He would be tying the boat to a secure point. The last thing that we needed was to have our means of escape float away. Butar waved us to our feet and we clambered over the side.

  The water was icy cold and it chilled my feet instantly. I slid my sword silently from its fleece lined scabbard and looked to Butar. The helmet my step father wore was like Harald’s it was a half mask which gave him a terrifying aspect. He made sure we were all ashore and then pointed left and right. We took our places. I was to Haaken’s right about four men from the end of the lin
e. Olaf followed us to make sure we did not go astray.

  Ahead of us Harald and his men were racing to the gate. He had archers with him and I heard the arrows as they flew to the single tower. Although they hit the sentry he had given the alarm and his warning was cut short by his death. Harald’s oathsworn ran to the gate and began to hack at the middle with their axes. Men appeared on the walls and began to loose their arrows.

  Olaf’s voice rang out. “Shields!”

  I crouched as I raised my shield; I heard and felt the arrow as it thudded into the oak of my shield. If I had been tardy then it would have struck me. Harald’s men put their shoulders to the gate and it split asunder. There was a roar as they burst through the shattered gate and into the village. There was the clash of metal and screams. “

  “Forward!” Even as we moved forwards I sensed movement to my right. A party of warriors had left the village, I presume by another gate and they were hurtling rapidly towards us. “Ware right!” My voice sounded high pitched but at least Olaf had heard.

  “Warriors to the right. Shield wall!”

  I had been dreading this as we had only practised it once. Even then we had not got it right. I stood between Haaken and Cnut. The warriors who raced at us were all full grown men and we were boys. I wondered if Heinrik still thought that this was glorious. The men coming towards us all looked much bigger than we were. Perhaps it was an illusion but they seemed better armed too. I glanced at Haaken who seemed quite calm and remembered the last time I had been in this position I had had no shield and no helmet. I also remembered Ragnar. It was reassuring for I felt his presence. I tucked my shield tighter to my body and readied my unnamed sword. Would it tell me its name this day?