Ragnar the Murderer

by Byrne, Lily

The Jarl beckoned a slave, who stepped up, bearing a burden wrapped in animal skins. He opened it to reveal Ragnar’s sword, Hauknautr, with the blood stains still on it.

  Ragnar gasped audibly.

  “Is this your sword?”

  He nodded, in shock, recognising the hilt. He didn’t use it much, except when Steinar arranged sword training. The Huskarlr generally used spears. Why hadn’t he taken more care of his sword instead of keeping it hidden for safety?

  “What have you to say for yourself?”

  “I did not kill Eadbald! I was asleep all night on my bench, I swear! I do love Aelfwyn but I’d never kill her betrothed!”

  A ripple of unrest grew at his declaration of love for an Anglisc woman.

  The Jarl regarded him sadly.

  “I’m afraid the evidence is against you.”

  The Huskarlr and others were all looking at them, but Ragnar could see Kjartan and Yngvild behind the Jarl, mouthing words to each other.

  Ragnar made a noise of shock, but Jarl Thorvald took it to be aggression and stepped back in alarm.

  “Do not threaten me!”

  “I wasn’t! I just-I-“

  “Be careful, my lord,” warned Yngvild, her voice as smooth as honey. “He cannot be trusted. Remember, despite your careful upbringing, he is tainted blood. Others have proved more trustworthy.” She indicated Kjartan.

  What lies had she been whispering in her husband’s ear? Ragnar felt sick.

  Arnbjorn, the Law sayer, stepped up.

  “This crime has taken place against a man about to be married. He was a ceorl of Byrnstanham, a well respected man with eight children to support.

  The accused is also well respected, a Huskarl who has completed most of his training. Previously of noble character, he has never committed a crime such as this before.”

  The audience muttered, and their voices grew louder.

  “Silence!” roared Steinar, who up until then had been quiet at the head of the Huskarl group. Everyone obeyed, knowing his reputation for swift punishment of disorder. He turned and looked at Ragnar. Had he briefly smiled or had it been wishful thinking?

  “The law states that in such a case of murder, the guilty party should pay the victim’s family compensation of the equivalent to one hundred cows. This would include all the murderer’s family members paying. As Ragnar has no blood family, the fine would be paid by the Huskarl company including Jarl Thorvald.”

  The lady Yngvild whispered to her husband, who nodded adoringly and caught the attention of Arnbjorn. Ragnar felt rage kindling in his heart. If only Jarl Thorvald knew his devoted wife had been consorting with Kjartan behind his back. But who would believe someone accused of murder? Anyway, the relationship had nothing to do with this crime, revealing it would surely make him look worse. Ragnar sighed.

  “The Jarl reminds me that this punishment would not be appropriate,” said Arnbjorn. “The Anglisc are furious at this disrespectful death. They are represented by the thegn Cyneric, friend of the deceased.”

  He gestured and the finely dressed Cyneric approached, his cloak whipping in the wind. Ragnar had not noticed him until then.

  “Eadbald was well respected and loved,” said Cyneric. “His children are heartbroken, especially the daughter who found his body with the Danish sword. His young betrothed is also heartbroken that her friend could commit such a crime and never wants to see him again.”

  Ragnar’s own heart shuddered at this thought. Aelfwyn had seemed to believe him when they met in his room, but doubts crept in now.

  “We, the people of Byrnstanham demand a harsher punishment. We demand exile.”

  The Huskarlr shuffled and muttered, forgetting their discipline. The watching villagers whispered and exclaimed. Exile meant Ragnar would be at the mercy of anyone who had a grievance against him. No one would be allowed to help or hide him, he would be completely alone, a worse punishment than death in many ways.

  Yngvild spoke again in her husband’s ear, her face calm and beautiful, but her words surely poisonous. Jarl Thorvald nodded.

  “This seems, though it pains me, to be the answer. Huskarlr, what do you say?”

  Reluctantly, one by one, the twelve raised their hands to indicate their agreement. None looked happy.

  “Ragnar, what have you to say?” asked Thorvald.

  “I am not guilty! I didn’t kill this man! But if you must punish me, I will accept it manfully.”

  Kjartan sneered and even the lady Yngvild allowed a brief whisper of triumph to cross her face. Ragnar realised they wanted him to pay for knowing about their relationship. But how could he fight against their unity?

  Threotiene

  “When are you going to clear up this mess?” asked Bjarni later as he lay in bed with Saehild. Clothes lay everywhere on the hut floor, dirty plates and cups piled up, and the candles all needed trimming. If Steinar saw it, he’d probably throw him out of the Huskarlr.

  “Oh, I don’t know. There’s more to life than cleaning.” She fiddled with the blond hair on his chest lazily. “I want fun, like you just gave me.”

  “We can’t have sex all the time, even though it’s tempting,” he tutted. “Life has boring times but we have to live properly.” He sat up and pulled his clothes on. “I’m going out for some fresh air.”

  “Where? I’ll come too!”

  “No, I’m going to talk to Steinar. I want to know how Ragnar’s trial went.” He strode out, still straightening his clothes.

  Saehild looked round the hut. Cleaning had become so tedious. Should she go and find Ljotr? If Bjarni was visiting the Huskarlr longhouse, he would see her if she went there however. Her obsession with Ljotr had grown as she hardly ever saw him. Since that time in his shelter by the lake, where she’d learned and revelled in the dominant position, she’d only seen him once more, at Valbrand the Smith’s forge, where they’d only managed to kiss before someone had almost caught them. And while at fighting practice in the distance. It couldn’t be more frustrating.

  *

  Entering the Huskarl longhouse, Bjarni knocked on Steinar’s door.

  “Yes?” The scarred face of his master peered round.

  “I was wondering how Ragnar’s trial went today, sir.”

  Steinar ushered him in. The room appeared more like a storeroom than a bedroom-the bed took up most of the floor space with a narrow gap to walk round it. Clothes were folded neatly on the bench, which gleamed with cleanliness. There were no cobwebs on the ceiling and Steinar’s spear rested upright in a corner.

  Leofrun was getting dressed on the bed, but Steinar ignored her and sat down in front of her, indicating for Bjarni to sit too.

  “Not good. Your friend is to be exiled.” Steinar pulled down his tunic and straightened his trousers.

  “What?” Bjarni gulped.

  “Didn’t realise that not only did Kjartan see him leaving the longhouse the night of the murder, they found Hauknautr at Eadbald’s hut.”

  Bjarni’s mouth hung open.

  “Kjartan? And Hauknautr at the-“

  “Can’t believe he used his own sword, the fool.”

  “You don’t believe he did it?”

  “There’s too much evidence against him. He’s a valiant warrior, but-“

  “Hold on. It was Kjartan who saw him leaving that night?”

  Steinar nodded.

  “Ragnar told me Kjartan’s fucking the lady Yngvild. And Kjartan told Aelfwyn the same thing.”

  “What?”

  They stared at each other.

  “But if Ragnar knows about Kjartan and Yngvild, and he saw Ragnar leaving the night of the murder, couldn’t he be lying to get Ragnar out of the way and keep his secret?” suggested Bjarni.

  “And how would Kjartan know Eadbald was going to be murdered that night? Unless-“

  They stared at each other again.

  “We need to do something,” said Bjarni.

  “We do. I’m not having my best Huskarl exiled!”

 
“Thanks! The Jarl won’t believe us if we just tell him though. He’s so in love with his lady, he’d probably exile us as well.”

  Leofrun coughed. “I’m the lady Yngvild’s maid remember. She tells me everything, even about Kjartan and the place he takes her. We can catch them at it, easily.”

  Disgust and admiration fought for dominance on Steinar’s face. Relief and amusement did the same on Bjarni’s.

  “I’ll kill that dog for dishonouring the lady!” Luckily Steinar kept his voice down.

  “Later,” said Bjarni. “We have to trap him first.”

  *

  The next day, a red cloaked figure walked towards the entrance of Byrnstanham. Maegla performed gatekeeper duties that morning and saw him coming many gyrds away. He tensed, but then smiled.

  “Bjarni! Brother!” They clasped hands, as they had fought side by side against the Norwegian Vikingr.

  “I have come to visit my in laws.”

  “Best of luck. In laws are never easy.” Maegla smiled and patted him on the back as he entered the village.

  Other young Anglisc men greeted him as brothers in arms, but the older ones watched him suspiciously.

  “Good day, father and mother,” he announced at the door of the hut. Aldulf and Cwenburg were together having lunch while Aelfwyn stirred a pot of stew over the fire.

  Aldulf stepped towards him, frowning.

  “Is something wrong with Saehild?”

  “No, she is perfectly well. I just thought you would like to know the fate of Ragnar.”

  “The Dane who killed Eadbald?” Cwenburg stood next to her husband.

  “We don’t know he did. Anyway, he’s been found guilty and sentenced to exile.”

  A sob escaped Aelfwyn’s lips and she gazed at her brother in law, lip trembling and eyes filling with tears. Bjarni hated hurting her like that but the news had to be passed on. And he had other news for her anyway.

  “Come in, take some food with us.” Cwenburg offered, even though her husband glowered. Bjarni entered the hut, dipping his head a little in the lower doorway.

  The stew consisted of onions, carrots, peas, barley grain with a little chicken.

  “How goes your farming?” asked Bjarni, through a mouthful of carrot.

  “Very well thank you,” replied Aldulf formally. “How is your training?”

  Bjarni gave him brief details, while observing Aelfwyn. She looked even paler and thinner than usual as she hurried about doing most of the work: serving food and drink, stirring the stew.

  “Let me help.” He stood up, catching his head on a bunch of herbs hanging to dry on the ceiling. He collected the empty bowls, meaning to help Aelfwyn clear away.

  “But you are our guest, you should not be doing housework,” said Aldulf.

  “It doesn’t matter. Huskarl training includes menial tasks to keep us in our place.” He chuckled. “We all need keeping in our place from time to time.”

  He went with Aelfwyn to the stream to wash the bowls, knives and spoons.

  “Oh Bjarni, how will I live when he’s exiled?” blurted Aelfwyn when they reached the burbling water. She burst into sobs, which he guessed had been long stifled.

  “I’m trying my best to save him, believe me. Steinar’s with me, I’m sure between us we can prove Ragnar’s innocence.”

  “Oh, can you? You’re not lying?”

  “Of course I’m not-“ He realised her distress and softened his voice. “Of course I’m not lying. We have a good chance. But I need to know what Kjartan said about Yngvild. Did he talk about any particular place he meets her? We know it’s a cave, but where?”

  Aelfwyn blushed.

  “It might-it might be the same place I went with Ragnar.”

  “You went-ah, I see.” Bjarni suppressed a smile thinking of his secretive friend. He hadn’t known he’d had clandestine liaisons with Aelfwyn.

  “It’s a cave by the cliffs, near the waterfall. Where the hazelnuts grow.”

  “I think I know where you mean.”

  “Just follow the stream and you’ll find the caves. Kjartan was talking about caves the other day, that must be what he meant.”

  “Thank you, that is really helpful. Don’t worry, me and Steinar will save him.”

  He embraced her impulsively, and she felt a slight flicker of hope, even though she still felt sick with nerves for her lover.

  *

  Jarl Thorvald went to visit Ragnar. The Huskarl guards had taken pity on him and allowed him to play Hnefatafl with them, sitting on the floor. He controlled the king piece and had nearly managed to get it to the corner of the wooden board without the opposite pieces trapping him. The game had been played so much that the carved bone pieces were wearing out.

  “You’ve always been skilled at this, Long Reach,” said one of the guards.

  “It looks like my last game though.” Ragnar sighed.

  Thorvald watched from the doorway, his heart heavy, then stepped into the room. Ragnar looked up, but the usual happiness in his eyes at seeing his Jarl did not appear.

  “Come speak with me,” requested Thorvald. “Leave us,” he ordered the guards.

  Ragnar dutifully went to sit on the bench next to him.

  “I’m sorry it’s come to this. Is there anything you can say to convince me you didn’t murder Eadbald?”

  “If my word isn’t enough, then nothing else will be.” Ragnar set his jaw.

  “If Kjartan were not such a blameless character, it would be different.”

  “You believe him over me?”

  “I’m sorry, but yes.”

  “If only you knew-“ Ragnar bit his lip, not wanting to sound insane with wild accusations of the lady Yngvild.

  “Knew what?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Bitterness dwelled in his heart and would never leave, he knew that much.

  “Exile is the law. Maybe the Anglisc will be satisfied and leave you alone when you go. I know other Danes, you could get safe passage away from here and start afresh.”

  “It’s a bit late for that now! And what would I do if I didn’t know anyone?”

  “You-you- would survive and even prosper. A resourceful man like you-“

  “After knowing me from childhood, you still don’t know me well enough to believe me? I can’t believe I called you father! What happened to the man I loved, married to my foster mother Katla? She would never have stood for your treatment of me! What happened to you after she died?”

  Thorvald stared, uncomfortable.

  “I-I found happiness again with Yngvild, I-“

  “Yes. I believe that’s what happened, in some way or another. Please leave me.” Ragnar would never have dared order his Jarl around before, but now he had nothing to lose.

  “But Ragnar-“

  “I will soon be gone and you’ll never see me again, so better make a quick end to it.” He turned away, so after a few minutes, Thorvald walked out. His cloak seemed to take Ragnar’s side as it caught round his ankles and tripped him, but he continued on his way.

  Ragnar brooded. All he’d ever done was serve Thorvald, he deserved better reward than this. He’d go far away from here when exiled. He could become a mercenary and forget Hallfridby, and Aelfwyn. His resolve flickered when he thought of her, but he hardened his heart.

  *

  Bjarni was woken by someone shaking his arm.

  “Hurry, I have news.”

  Saehild snored in bed by his side so he got up and followed Leofrun outside into the mild but moonless midsummer night.

  “My mistress is to meet Kjartan tomorrow morning at that cave they use. I can’t stay long, I just slipped out of the hall to tell you. It seems Jarl Thorvald is going on a tour of his furthest estates, so she’s taking advantage of the free time.”

  “So how are we to get the Jarl to catch them at it?”

  “I’ve done my bit, Bjarni, it’s up to you now. I have to return before I’m missed.”

  “Alright. Thank you.” His brow
s furrowed as he thought. Some crisis would have to be invented to keep Thorvald at home. And how could they get him to the cave?

  “What are you doing?” Saehild appeared at his side, so he explained the situation, putting his arm round her as the night breeze strengthened.

  “I have an idea.” She giggled and whispered in his ear.

  *

  Steinar chose his time to speak to Thorvald carefully. After breakfast, the lady Yngvild always went to bathe. Her husband stayed alone in his room, preparing to depart on his travels.

  “We’ve found something important, my lord,” said Steinar, his scarred face impassive as usual.

  “Oh yes?” Thorvald asked distractedly, mentally calculating how long it would take to travel the thirty miles to his furthest lands.

  “It’s a weapon hoard. We think it’s Anglisc, so we are worried they are planning something against us.” Steinar was accustomed to pretending. He put on an act of being strict much of the time whereas really, he liked his Huskarlr.

  “A what? Are you sure? Who found them?”

  “A couple of Huskarlr. They heard rumours and investigated. It’s hidden in a cave by the waterfall near the cliffs. We should act quickly to prevent something happening.”

  “I must take a look. I can put off my journey for a couple of hours. I’m very grateful, Steinar, you are a stalwart.”

  “Thank you sir.” Steinar wondered if he would say the same after he found out the truth.

  “Excuse me while I get ready.”

  Steinar hastened to find his woman.

  “Has the lady left yet for the cave?” he whispered in Leofrun’s ear, pressing his stocky body to her curvy one, wishing he had time to have his way with her.

  “Yes, she set off immediately after bathing. I must go.” Leofrun disentangled herself and went to tidy her mistress’s clothes.

  Steinar took a deep breath. This had to be done, however unpleasant. Ragnar had to be saved.

  He accompanied the Jarl on horseback. Being of high rank, Thorvald had been trained to ride a horse but Steinar had learned by trial and error. So they progressed slowly, the horses picking their way over the uneven stones near the river bed. Four Huskarl bodyguards accompanied them, three chosen by Steinar for their steady, calm temperament, and Bjarni, as he knew where they were going.