by Griff Hosker
“Up forrard then, Aiden, and use those eyes of yours. Take Arturus too.”
“Let out a reef!”
We could afford to go a little faster now. The knarr was almost on our beam. The light behind us faded a little more and I wondered if we had strayed too far from the shore. Then Arturus waved us to the left and I put the steer board over. I saw it. There were cliffs but between them was a piece of lower ground which suggested a bay of some kind. I ordered another reef to be taken and watched as Trygg did the same. The closer we came to the cliffs the clearer the anchorage became. It was a beach surrounded by high cliffs. As we approached I saw that the breakers suggested sand rather than rocks. Even so we went in slowly. I had the sail lowered some forty paces from shore and let the waves take us in. We slid gently up the beach. We were still afloat for I could feel the stern bobbing up and down.
Arturus and Snorri were already in the water and Haaken and Cnut had their bows strung in case of danger. The knarr ground softly on to the beach too. Ketil followed Arturus with the rope which he secured to a rock. We waited anxiously. Arturus returned. “It is safe. We can go ashore. The cliffs are high and there are no paths.” He flourished something in his hand, “And we have food.” They were gulls’ eggs.
The slaves were brought ashore but they were tied hand and foot. We did not wish them to be tempted to escape. We risked a fire. It was unlikely that there was anyone around. The cliffs were too high and exposed to make a good site for a home and we needed hot food.
“What happened?”
“The waves were high and one of the priests dropped to his knees and began to pray. One of my men who could understand his words said that the priest swore we were going to die and God was punishing you for taking the priests. He ran to the prow and pleaded with his God for his life. A second priest joined them and then a wave took them overboard. The other priests wanted me to turn around.” He shook his head, “Olaf had to hit them with a trenail to calm them.” He shook his head. “This White Christ of theirs is a strange god.”
“I agree. I know not why they follow him. At least we know which god to plead with. I asked Ran’s help before we left Úlfarrston and when we changed direction. If they cause more trouble then throw them overboard.”
“But we will lose the trade.”
“Better we lose the trade than the ship. I will speak with them.” I shouted, “Aiden, I need your words!”
Aiden joined me and I went to the tethered slaves. I addressed the men for the women appeared to have accepted their fate. “The priests who caused the trouble and died nearly got you all killed. I have told my captain that he is to throw overboard any who cause trouble.” I nodded to Aiden, “Translate.”
Although I had some Hibernian I wanted no misunderstanding. When he had translated they stared at me with hate burning in their eyes. It did not worry me. Had they had courage they would have fought us when we had taken them. They were getting what they deserved. If they did not want to be treated as sheep then they needed a sheepdog!
“When we reach Frankia you will be sold. If you are lucky you will be employed by a lord who will treat you well and use your reading skills. You will live! Cross me and you will die!”
When Aiden had translated I asked, “Do they understand?”
One of them looked at me, sadly and said, “We understand.”
I returned to Trygg. The food was now ready. “One of your slaves can understand us. He is the one who is taller than the others. I have told them what you will do to them.”
Many people might think me cruel but I am not. This is the way of the world. I had been a slave and now I was the jarl of my own fiefdom. You could change your stars or you could crawl on your belly. The Allfather needed to know what kind of man you were.
Chapter 8
We had no more trouble and we reached the Rinaz without any further losses. It was the middle of the afternoon when we saw the river and I breathed a sigh of relief that we had managed to reach our destination still together.
“Sails!”
Ketil’s shrill voice was accompanied by his hand which stretched to the south. There were two small ships approaching us. They were filled with armed men.
“Lower the sail. Let us see what they want. Be ready to repel boarders if this is some sort of trick.” Neither ship seemed a danger to us. I had more than four times the number of men I could see on both ships but something was not right.
They lowered their sail and bobbed up and down next to us. They were lower in the water than we were and we were able to see that each boat had twelve men on board. All wore mail and were well armed.
One man stepped forward and spoke to us, haltingly, in our language. “Men of the Norse are not allowed on the Rinaz! Go away, pirates!”
“We are here to trade. We are not pirates.”
“It matters not; the Emperor Charlemagne has barred you from this river.”
I did not like his attitude and I found his words offensive. “You and your little boats will not take long to sink and then who is to stop us entering your river?”
He actually grinned at me. “You could sink us but then the ships of our Emperor would hunt you down. Even if you reached Aachen you would be arrested and executed. Go home!”
Haaken and Cnut had been listening. They did not like the insults I had been forced to take. Two arrows flew from their bows and the grinning spokesman was hurled overboard. I frowned. I was not certain if anyone else spoke our language. And I did not like the fact that their action had made us enemies of the Emperor Charlemagne, whoever he was. The two ships suddenly hoisted sail and made all speed for the distant river.
“There was no need for that!”
“He was annoying us. If they had any warships here we would have seen them.”
“What do we do now? Sail all the way back home?”
Aiden said, “We could go to Frisia. That captain from Cymru said there were trading centres there.” He pointed north. “The Roman maps say they are not far away.”
Haaken shrugged, “It is worth a try. We have nothing to lose.”
Trygg pulled alongside us. I leaned over. “We will sail north and find a Frisian port.”
As we headed north I asked Aiden what he knew of this Charlemagne. “I have not heard the name but Emperor sounds Roman.”
“I think someone told me he ruled the old Roman Empire but I thought that was further east.”
“So did I. I will see what I can discover when we reach a port.”
We sailed slowly through new waters. We saw low islands and narrow channels. I wondered which one to pick when Ketil shouted. “Mastheads!”
He pointed to the east and put the steer board over. “Drop the sail and run out the oars. We will enter gently.” The channel seemed wide enough and the low lying islands enabled us to see some buildings and the masts of many ships. We later found that we had come across the island of Wierirgen. I saw other long ships tied to the wooden jetties as well as knarrs and even some long low river barges. We were one of the longer ones. We stopped in the middle of a channel. I was not certain what to do next. A small rowing boat came out and we were spoken to by one of our people.
“Captain, tie up to a jetty. There are spare berths at the northern end. You come here to trade?”
The question seemed without ulterior motive but our warlike appearance might have worried the locals. We were the largest ship in the port. “We come to trade.”
He seemed relieved. “You have come to the right place.”
When we reached the berth I was still a little suspicious. “Keep most of the men on board. I will take Sigtrygg and Arturus with me. Make sure we have sufficient guards along the jetty.”
“Are you going mailed?”
I shook my head, “I will just need Ragnar’s Spirit.” As we had sailed through the port I had noticed that the men were not wearing armour. It would not do to appear to be belligerent. With my son and Sigtrygg I was confident I could deal with any
problem I might encounter.
We left the ship and walked along the wooden jetty. Crossing a bridge to the land I saw that there were some substantial looking buildings. All were wooden but they gave the impression of prosperity. The man in the rowing boat strode down to meet me. I could see that he was a warrior, his sword had warrior bands and his face had a long scar running down one cheek.
“I am Rorik of Dorestad! Welcome to the town of trade!”
He was an ebullient and cheerful man but his eyes belied the smile. He was calculating. I later discovered that money and business coursed through his veins instead of blood.
“Come, there is a fine ale wife here and she serves the best wheat beer you have ever drunk. Allow me to buy you one and then you can tell me what you wish to trade.”
“Are you the jarl here?”
“Jarl?” He laughed, “No. I am just a trader but I do own a warehouse and I do like to make trades with fellow Vikings.”
He pointed up at the sheaf of wheat hanging up outside the hut. “Here it is.”
The hut was surprisingly well lit by bowls of seal oil. There were no seats but there were crude tables. I noticed that they all deferred to him and moved back to allow us room. He was important. He strode up to a table where a woman held a jug. “Four of your wheat beers, Agnetha.”
She was a tough looking woman and I saw that she had had her nose broken at some time. She held out her palm into which Rorik dropped some coins. I got the impression he did not like her action but after a brief grimace his mouth returned to the smile.
He handed me my horn of ale. Arturus and Sigtrygg were left to pick up their own. Rorik clashed horns with me. We both drank. He was right, it was good ale.
“Now then you know my name but I have not seen you before or your magnificent ship.”
“I am Jarl Garth Dragon Heart of Cyninges-tūn.” I knew I had surprised him by his face.
“I have heard of you. You fought with Magnus Barelegs and Thorfinn Skull Splitter.” I nodded. He pointed at my sword. “Then that must be the sword touched by the gods.”
“It is. So tell me when do we trade?”
“That depends what you have to sell. If you have slaves then that would be on Woden’s Day. Other items might be traded on any day.”
“Swords and sword blanks?”
“Ah,” he tapped the side of his nose, “you know that the Emperor Charlemagne had forbidden the sale of swords to the Norse and the Danish?”
“I had heard that the Franks had forbidden their sale to Vikings.”
“That doesn’t mean to say we cannot arrange the trade but the prices tend to be a little higher than they were.”
“We have slaves and we have a holy book of the White Christ.”
He suddenly became interested. “That, my friend, calls for another ale.” He put two more coins down and Agnetha filled two more horns. “The books of the White Christ are in great demand but I would suggest you do not sell that in public. The Emperor has spies everywhere and if got to hear of it, well, let us just say, his price would be lower and bloodier than others.”
“Could you arrange for some interested buyers to meet me then?”
“Of course.”
I drank the rest of the ale. “Then as the morrow is Woden’s Day I will go back and prepare the slaves so that we can get the best price.”
He waved us from the door and we made our way back towards our moored ship. “What did you think to him Sigtrygg?”
“I thought he was as slippery as a freshly caught herring. I would not trust him.”
“Nor would I but we will deal with him until we find out a little more about this place.”
Once back at the ship I called Trygg aboard ‘Heart’ and spoke with my men. “We trade the slaves tomorrow. I would be rid of them. They are mouths to feed and require guarding. When that is done I would have some of you circulate amongst the other ships and businesses. Listen and find out as much as you can.”
Beorn Three Fingers asked, “About what?”
I shrugged, “About anything. I have been told that we cannot trade for Frankish blades and that Holy Books have a special market. I have spoken to one man. He is one of our people but we do not trust him. Before I judge him I would have as much information as we can. Until we know more we assume that we are in danger. Haaken, arrange the watches.”
I went to the stern to look at the busy little port. Aiden came with me. “You are troubled, my lord?”
“I am troubled. Why does this Charlemagne blockade his own river and allow this free port just a few miles away? It makes no sense to me. I would return after selling the slaves save that we need swords and other supplies. We need seeds and the means to grow our own crops.”
“I have been studying those parchments we found. There is a mention of the sword we found.” I looked up, suddenly interested. “It was named ‘Saxon Slayer’. It came from the land of the Franks before the time of the Romans.”
“And we are here, in the land of the Franks.”
“Aye my lord, but they discovered this by travelling to Miklagård where they studied the writings of Rome and,” he paused dramatically and lowered his voice, “there they bought fine weapons. I believe the armour we saw on Anglesey came from Byzantium.”
“You have done well! That is interesting news. We have much to ponder on and all is not as dark as I had first thought.”
When I woke the next morning I discovered that our precautions had been wise. Small boats had sailed close to our hulls during the night. Had we not had guards there who were able to chase them away who knew what might have resulted? Of course it might have had little to do with Rorik. Ports always attracted criminals. That was how Rolf and his oathsworn had come into my service.
I had the slaves prepared. We made sure they were washed and most of the vermin chased from their clothes. The women and children had their hair combed. The monks were, generally, clean anyway. Rorik appeared, flanked by two tough looking warriors.
“I came to show you where the sale will be.”
“That is kind of you. Haaken!”
Haaken had twelve of the Ulfheonar ready. We did not want to appear to be too belligerent but I wanted a show of force. He lined the men up on either side of the slaves. Cnut and Trygg nodded as we walked towards the centre. They would watch the boat while small groups of my warriors circulated to discover the layout of the port.
Rorik waved an expansive hand around the buildings we passed. He implied ownership. “The Frisians are a fine people but this was a collection of huts until we came.”
“You raided?”
He flashed a sharp look at me, “You have a quick mind, Jarl Dragon Heart. Yes we did but it was poor returns and so we stayed. We found that the restrictions on the Rinaz forced many ships, such as yours, to come here instead of Frankia. It has grown.”
“And you take a cut.”
He laughed, “You are indeed clever and quick! Why not stay and join us. You have the finest drekar I have ever seen and your Ulfheonar have an untarnished reputation.”
“I am afraid that I am wary of any new ventures.” I inclined my head. “I had an unfortunate alliance with Ragnar Hairy Breeches and besides I have a family waiting for me in my home.”
“And where is this Cyninges-tūn? On the island of Man?”
I waved a vague hand, “It is in the north of the land they call Britannia.”
“You are cautious; that is wise.”
We had reached the centre of the port. There was a square flanked by large buildings. A small dais had been built in the middle and the auctioneer stood there.
Rorik pointed to some animal pens off to the side. “Your men can hold the slaves there and we will call them. I must go and begin the sale.”
“Haaken put them in the pens over there. They will be summoned.”
He began to move off, “You will be safe?”
“I have Arturus and Aiden here. I think so.” Turning to Aiden I said, “Yo
u have an ear for languages. Listen and pick up all that you can.”
“And me, father?”
“Today you are my bodyguard; keep me safe.”
I did not think for one moment that I needed protection in such a public place but it made Arturus feel better.
Rorik stood on the dais. ”Welcome to the sale of slaves.” He waved a hand towards the pens. “We have a large number today including a consignment of monks from Hibernia.” I heard mumbling from a group of well dressed merchants and warriors. They would be the ones I would need to watch. Those who bid for the monks might be interested in the holy book of the White Christ. “On with the sale and remember it is cash only.” Although said with a smile there was a threat in his voice and in the attitude of the well armed men who flanked him.
I saw a hooded man who showed the most interest when the monks came for sale. He had soft hands, I was close enough to see that clearly and his fingers were adorned with rings. The two mailed men close by him were obviously his bodyguards. He purchased all of the monks despite competition from three other well dressed men. It suited us for our profits rose. One of the monks went for more than all of the rest of the slaves put together.
When the sale ended I followed him as he went to pay for and collect his acquisitions. I waited while he handed over the coins and watched them counted. Rorik took on that task himself. As he turned I gave a slight bow. “I am Jarl Dragon Heart and you have just bought my slaves. I hope they serve you well.”
I saw that he was a younger man than I had expected. He had a neatly trimmed beard and hawk like eyes. His men’s hands went to their swords when I spoke. He muttered something to them and they relaxed.
“I am Count Pepin of Colona. They will serve.” His eyes searched my face. “You wanted something else?”
“I have a holy book of the White Christ in my possession. I wondered if you might be interested.”
He smiled and proffered the cross from around his neck. “We prefer to call ourselves Christians. And you wish to sell this book?”