The Wolf and the Raven

by H A CULLEY

  Tóki was not a youth to allow such an insult to pass and he foolishly challenged his cousin to a fight. If he won then, he declared, she would be forced to marry him; if he lost he would stand down as jarl. Lagertha was loathe to fight him, much as she wanted to depose him as jarl. However, she couldn’t decline without losing face.

  ‘Don’t let him win, Lagertha,’ Loptr, one of senior warriors, said quietly. ‘He’ll make a vindictive bully of a husband, mainly because he is jealous of you.’

  ‘Do you imagine that I don’t know that?’ she replied with bitterness. ‘He’s my cousin and he was a ship’s boy on my drakar for two years. I know exactly what he’s like. Odin won’t think him worthy of Valhalla, but I fully intend to send him to Fólkvangr.’

  Fólkvangr was the meadow presided over by the goddess Freyja where those who die in combat, but who are not considered worthy of Valhalla, go.

  ‘He may be an arrogant and cocksure young man with few admirable qualities, but if you kill him he’ll suddenly become a heroic figure, cruelly slain by a Valkyrie.’

  ‘A Valkyrie? Is that how people see me?’

  ‘They see you as more than mortal, Lagertha. Your luck is attributed to help from the All-father, Odin, and many think that you are one his female warriors. They are simple people, after all. If you win easily they won’t think it’s a fair contest and their awe of you will turn to fear and loathing.’

  ‘Then I had better let them see that I’m not invincible.’

  She entered the circle made by her warriors and the hirdmen of Jarl Tóki wearing no byrnie and no helmet. Her only weapon was a sword and she carried no shield.

  ‘What’s this, cousin? Do you treat me with contempt?’ Tóki said angrily when he entered the circle wearing byrnie and helmet. He was carrying a shield and spear and wore both a sword and a dagger at his waist.

  ‘Not at all, cousin. I merely wish this fight to be as fair as possible; after all, I have both years and a warrior’s skill on my side.’

  Tóki was about to make a retort but the lagman held up his hand for quiet.

  ‘I am told that this one to one fight is due to a disagreement over marriage but our laws do not permit a suitor to challenge his intended to resolve the matter by combat, at least not this sort of combat.’

  The crowd were silent for a moment; they were unused to their lawgiver making a joke. Then they started laughing, which lightened the mood.

  ‘Therefore this fight is over leadership in the time honoured tradition of the Norse people. If Jarl Tóki loses, he will cede his role as your leader to the victor. If the Lady Lagertha loses, she will submit to her jarl as his obedient subject and pay whatever penalty he deems fitting. This is not a fight to the death, but neither is the first person to draw blood the victor. The loser must submit or be too wounded to carry on.’

  The lagman withdrew and the two combatants circled each other warily. Tóki made the first move and feinted with his spear whilst bringing his shield up to deflect the expected counter attack from Lagertha. It didn’t come. She neatly sidestepped the spear and her left hand snaked out to grasp it; her sword remained hanging down by her side in her other hand.

  Tóki tried to pull his spear back but found that his cousin was much stronger than she looked. It was as if the spear shaft was held in a vice of iron. He felt a fool trying fruitlessly to recover his spear so he let go of it and Lagertha threw it contemptuously aside.

  ‘If this is her showing that she isn’t invincible,’ Loptr muttered to himself, ‘then I’m a witless thrall.’

  Next Lagertha staged a series of lightning fast attacks with her sword. Tóki struggled to ward off the blows with his shield and was forced back and back. Eventually, at the edge of the circle, where he faced the spear points of those forming it if he retreated further, he went down on one knee and used his sword in a scything motion to try and cut into Lagertha’s legs. She leapt in the air to avoid the blade, but stumbled upon landing.

  Initially he had intended to leave her unmarked as far as possible. After all, he didn’t want some scarred hag as his wife. However, he had quickly realised that Lagertha was a skilled warrior against whom he had little chance of an easy victory. If he couldn’t make her submit and become his wife, he would have to kill her.

  Lagertha pretended to have sprained her ankle and hobbled back out of reach as Tóki sprang upright and came after her, a savage grin on his face.

  ‘If I can’t have you, then no one shall,’ he cried as he banged his sword on his shield.

  ‘Don’t be too sure cousin; look, the Valkyries are circling already, waiting for your soul.’

  Despite knowing he was being duped, Tóki looked skywards for an instant. It was the moment that she had been waiting for and she charged into him, sending him sprawling onto his back. She stood clear and allowed him to get to his feet. It was only then that he realised that she had wrenched his shield from his grasp whilst he was lying akimbo. Lagertha send the shield spinning away to join the spear.

  Now it was sword against sword. Tóki had the advantage of his armour but Lagertha was spared its weight. Her opponent was tiring whilst she still felt as fresh as if she’d just bathed in the fjord. He attacked her and beat her back, feeling a sense of triumph until he realised that she was doing little more than just enough to defend herself. He paused, panting for breath and glared at her.

  ‘You’re not trying, cousin. Now why is that?’ he said quietly in between pants as he recovered his breath.

  ‘Because I don’t want to make your death look too easy,’ she replied with a smile.

  ‘Death?’ he replied in alarm. ‘This isn’t a fight to the death. You heard what the lagman said.’

  ‘Oh, but it is, and we both know that. I saw it in your face. If you can’t have me as your sex thrall, then you want me dead so no-one else can have me.’

  ‘Sex thrall? Yes, that’s exactly what you’ll be when I defeat you. Not my wife, just someone to pleasure me, and my hirdmen too if I choose.’

  For the first time in the fight Lagertha became angry.

  ‘I’d rather die than let either you or your filthy hird lay your hands on me,’ she hissed, gripping the hilt of her sword tightly.

  ‘That’s the idea.’

  He thrust at her with his sword and she contemptuously beat it away, but he had drawn his dagger with his left hand and now he thrust it towards her abdomen. Caught off balance, all she could do was to twist at the waist so that the point of the dagger didn’t penetrate her flesh too far before his arm was fully extended.

  She staggered backwards, blood pouring from the wound and staining the bottom half of her tunic and her yellow trousers a dark crimson. The crown grasped. The women had always been on Lagertha’s side, and most of the men secretly admired her, even if they called her a völva to each other, believing she cast a spell on her followers.

  She hadn’t intended Tóki to wound her there, but she had wanted him to give her a flesh wound of some sort. It would gain her a great deal of sympathy so that his death wouldn’t be resented. However, she realised that she was losing so much blood that she needed to finish this before she became too weak to do so.

  With a roar of feigned rage she attacked the young jarl with a flurry of cuts and jabs with her sword so that he was forced back at speed. When he felt two sharp blows to the back of his byrnie he knew that he had reached the encircling warriors. Lagertha felt her strength draining away so she made to thrust for her cousin’s groin, then turned her wrist at the last moment, after he’d committed to blocking it and sunk the point into his throat.

  The thrust had all of her remaining strength behind it and the point erupted from the back of his neck. The warrior standing behind Tóki in the circle, against whom he fell, had to jerk his head to the side to avoid being spitted in the chest.

  It was over and, as she stood there, bent over with her hands clutching her knees, swaying from side to side, the crowd erupted with shouts of Jarl Lagertha and long l
ife to the shield maiden. She was scarcely aware of Loptr rushing to catch her as she fell. The world went black and she knew no more.

  -℣-

  Ragnar hadn’t fully recuperated, but he wasn’t prepared to delay recovering his throne any longer. When he neared the entrance to the fjord that led to Arendal he was astonished to see another fleet of a dozen longships heading towards him.

  ‘Damn it, Froh must have left half his force behind to defend Adger.’

  ‘No, they aren’t Swedes. That’s my sister, Lagertha’s fleet,’ Gedda said, appearing by his side.

  ‘Your sister? She has a fleet?’ Ragnar asked bewildered.

  ‘Yes, she is Jarl of Lysebotn and leader of the jarls of the north.’

  ‘A jarl?’

  ‘Yes, it’s said that she killed the previous jarl, our cousin, in a fair fight and has led the fight against the Swedes for several years. She is called Lagertha the Shield Maiden, amongst other things.’

  ‘Is she now? I look forward to meeting your sister, boy. She interests me.’

  ‘Welcome home, King Ragnar Lodbrok,’ Lagertha called across the water, standing at the prow of her drekar wearing a byrnie but with her long fair hair blowing free.

  ‘Not king yet, Jarl Lagertha the Shield Maiden,’ he called back. ‘I have yet to be acclaimed as such by the thing.’

  ‘You know who I am?’

  ‘Of course, he does, sister. Everyone does.’

  ‘Gedda, is that you, you imp. I wondered where you’d got to.’

  Ragnar and Lagertha smiled at each other across the water as her drekar turned and came alongside Ragnar’s ship. Gedda studied them and grinned to himself when he saw that they didn’t seem able to take their eyes off each other. It was obvious to all that each found the other immensely attractive, if only by repute at this stage. The boy found himself wondering what it would be like to be the brother of a queen.

  Chapter Twelve – Aslaug

  830 to 835

  Ragnar’s second marriage was a passionate, if not exactly a romantic, affair. Each enjoyed bedding the other tremendously and Lagertha had two children in as many years – a son, Fridlief and a daughter, Ragnhild. Ragnar sent to Denmark for his two sons by Thora – Eirik and Agnar – so that they could be brought up with their half-siblings.

  However, life was never going to be easy for two people who were so strong willed. In particular Lagertha hated being pregnant and didn’t have a maternal bone in her body. After Ragnhild’s birth she refused to sleep with Ragnar if it meant getting pregnant again. They argued incessantly after that until eventually Lagertha decided she’d had enough; she came to the conclusion that life as a celibate jarl was preferable to that of a fornicating queen. In 835 she returned to the north taking her two children with her and, after a great deal of soul searching, Gedda decided to go with her.

  Ragnar watched her sail away with mixed feelings. He truly loved her and he still regarded her as his soul mate, but he’d decided some time ago that she was simply impossible to live with. Moreover, he didn’t want to share his life with a shield maiden who could beat him with sword and shield as often as not, however good in bed she was. He was a proud man and he felt that losing to anyone, especially to his wife, damaged his standing in the eyes of others.

  What he needed was a woman who would look after his hall and his children, and perhaps give him fewer scars on his back when he rutted with her.

  In any case he had other concerns at the moment. His Danish lands had been invaded by Finnulf, Jarl of Gotland, whose father he’d killed several years before. It was rumoured that King Eystein Beli of Uppsala was supporting him, which made the situation even more serious. Eystein was Finnulf’s king and Uppsala was not only the centre of the kingdom which covered much of Eastern Sweden, but it also contained the shrine to the Allfather – Odin, king of the gods. It was the most powerful of the Swedish kingdoms and Ragnar had enough problems without making an enemy of Eystein Beli.

  Ragnar prepared to embark on a mission to make peace with Eystein. Meanwhile he sent for Lagertha and asked her to assemble as many ships and warriors as she could from the north.

  Whilst he set sail for Uppsala, Lagertha headed for Egholm, the island in the middle of the Limfjord where Ragnar’s hall used to be. It was now the base from which Finnulf was operating and it was essential to secure it if she was to eject the occupying Swedes from Jutland.

  Evidently Finnulf hadn’t expected Ragnar to react so quickly, or in such force. Perhaps he didn’t even know that his enemy was now King of Adger. Whatever the truth of it, Egholm was lightly defended and quickly fell to Lagertha’s warriors.

  Her first priority was to gather intelligence. Apart from finding out where Finnulf and his men were, she was puzzled by King Horik’s lack of retaliatory action. Her suspicion was that he was jealous of Ragnar and might even see him as a potential rival for the throne of Denmark. If so, he might even have welcomed Finnulf’s depredations in Jutland.

  She stopped thinking about what might be and smiled at Gedda as he entered the jarl’s hall.

  ‘By Thor’s hammer, it’s wet out there,’ he said shaking the rain off his cloak and going over to the central hearth to dry himself.

  ‘Did you find out anything?’

  ‘Only that Finnulf seems to be making his way north, along the coast, burning and pillaging as he goes.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s making for Fladstrand? It used to be Ragnar’s base once upon a time and it’s where he may well keep a chest or two of silver.’

  ‘Who lives in the hall there now?’

  ‘I seem to remember that its Olaf’s younger brother, Vragi. Let’s hope we can get there by sea before Finnulf reaches it on land.’

  ‘What about his ships? Where are they?’

  ‘Perhaps he’s sent them ahead to Fladstrand. Anyway we’ll soon find out.’

  It was still raining heavily with the wind blowing strongly from the south east when Lagertha’s small fleet left the Limfjord and headed out into the Kattegat. Once they turned to head up the coast they ceased rowing and the ships’ boys hauled up the sail with one reef already in it. Lagertha grinned at Gedda as her drekar responded to the increase in pace and carved its way through the spume flecked waves.

  ‘What will you do if the Swedish fleet is at Fladstrand?’ he shouted as they both stood in the prow, enjoying the motion of the ship as salt spray hit their faces.

  She shook her head to indicate that she didn’t want to try and compete with the noise of the wind and the sea and they made their way aft to where the steersman and the ship’s captain stood.

  ‘Hopefully we’ll find the bastard’s ships there. If so, we’ll burn them so he’s trapped in Jutland. That’ll mean he’ll be forced to fight us instead of being able to scuttle back where he came from.’

  Four and a half hours after setting out Lagertha sailed into the bay below the palisaded hall at Fladstrand. Seven snekkjur, a drekar and a knarr were tied up to the jetty and the hall appeared to be under siege. It seemed that Finnulf had beaten her to the place after all.

  ‘How many do you think there are?’ she asked her brother, pointing towards the besieging army.

  The rain had stopped and there were now patches of blue sky above them. They were still a couple of miles offshore but Gedda had good eyesight. He called the lookout down and climbed up the mast himself.

  ‘At least four hundred,’ he called down. ‘There’s a few more guarding the ships. They seem to be panicking; they’re trying to get the ships ready for sea and the crews are running down the hill to man them.’

  His sister smiled grimly.

  ‘It seems we are to have a sea battle then.’

  She signalled to the rest of her ships and the rowers rushed to their places. The sails came down as they neared the jetty. Some enemy ships had already cast off but over half were still tied to the jetty as their crews piled aboard.

  Lagertha had nine longships but six of those were drekars, so not on
ly did she have bigger ships but they were manned by six hundred and fifty warriors, so her men outnumbered Finnulf’s Swedes.

  Only five snekkjur faced her as her men shipped their oars and came alongside the enemy, grappling the ships together. In all but one case the Swedes were trapped between two Norse ships; the battle on board the Swedish ships was short and the outcome never in doubt.

  Meanwhile Lagertha’s own drekar had attached itself to the fifth enemy ship and she led her men on board it, jumping down onto the lower deck of the smaller ship. As she landed she crouched down so that the spear aimed at her went over her shoulder. She thrust upwards with her sword, pushing it into her attacker’s rotund belly. He screamed like a stuck pig and fell into the bottom of the ship, trying to stop his intestines from spilling out.

  Lagertha ignored him and used her shield to catch a wild blow from an axe aimed at her head. The force of the blow from the axe jarred her arm and it split her shield, sticking fast in the lime wood. Once more her sword snaked out and the axeman fell back with blood spurting from his ripped throat.

  The shield was now more of an encumbrance than a help and so she discarded it and drew her dagger with her left hand. Gedda had followed her onto the enemy ship. Unlike his battle seasoned sister, this was his first battle and he was both excited and nervous. He saw the man with the fatal wound in his belly grit his teeth and draw his dagger, intent on stabbing it into Lagertha’s leg. Gedda struck downwards with his sword and killed the man just in time. It wasn’t much of a victory but now that he had killed his first man he calmed down and moved to his sister’s side.

  Together they held off the frantic attacks by the Swedes until overwhelming numbers of Norsemen arriving on the enemy ship drove the crew back. Gedda didn’t notice until afterwards that he had suffered two flesh wounds during the fighting, one to his right cheek and another to his right biceps. He was rather proud of them, forgetting that the one to his face wouldn’t show once he was old enough to grow a proper beard instead of the wispy fluff he now sported.