Blood on the Blade

by Griff Hosker

  We had just two shields on the side. One day there would be another three there. One of my tasks this winter was to make my shield. It would not be as big as my father’s but big enough. The two warriors had also brought their swords and spears. Spears were useful. If game came close by then we could hunt it.

  We spied the trees as soon as we saw the coast. They seemed to rise like a wall from the sea. We had to sail a little east before we found a bay which was free from inhabitants. We used the sail to sail her in and ground up gently onto the soft sand and shingle. While our fathers took their bows and climbed to the cliff top, we hauled the snekke clear of the water. We would be using her as our home for a few days. We used a piece of old sail and made a shelter for us. By then our fathers had returned.

  “We spied neither houses nor smoke. There are good trees and we can use the cliff to lower them to the beach. This is a good place to hunt timber. Fetch the rope and axes from the snekke. There is enough daylight for us to hew a couple before dark.”

  We had three tree axes and three hand axes. I saw that my father had already spied two trees. Snorri patted one almost affectionately, “This one is close to the edge and, if we hit it right, it will roll down to the beach.”

  My father shook his head, “That matters not. This one will be the keel. It is perfect. You three stand to the side and we will show you how it is done.” They first hacked a cut as wide as a hand on the seaward side of the tree and then they alternated hits on the other side. They made it look so easy. “Stand clear!” There was a crack and then the tree began to topple. As Snorri had predicted it fell down the slope towards the beach. As it hit there was a series of cracks as the smaller branches were broken off. It slithered and slid until its top was three paces on the beach. “You three go and hack off as many of the smaller branches as you can and then attach a rope to it. The other is there.” He pointed a little way further along. They would be able to fell that one and we would not be in danger.

  I was confident that we would be able to strip the smaller branches and I envisioned us pulling the trunk to the snekke. How wrong I was. What had seemed easy when the brothers had done it now seemed almost impossible. The ones the width of a sword hilt were easy but it took many blows to sever the ones as thick as my arm. We heard ‘Stand clear!’ and looked up as the second tree was felled. I was just pleased that the others were finding it as hard.

  Snorri reached us first for my father had begun to take off the lower and larger branches of the other tree. He took his axe and said, “There is a technique to this. Learn it now for when you are older this will help you wield a Danish war axe.” He put one hand at the end of the axe haft and the other near the head. “See, as I swing, I move my right hand to join my left. I let the weight of the axe head do the work. If Siggi and Arne work in a pair they will be able to take some thicker branches. Erik, go and join your father. Take the smaller branches for him.”

  I was not happy as I wandered to my father. I had failed and been given a lesser task. I determined to do as well as I could and impress my father. It came on to dark and I still had not finished. My father stretched. “Come we have done enough. Give me the axe and then go up the slope and find as much dry wood as you can. We will have food. We have done better than I hoped. Three or four days should give us enough timber for the skeleton of the drekar!”

  I did as I was bid and I took the wood back to the beach where I made a fire. We would light it later. I headed back to my father. “I am not tired. I can hew some more.”

  “Good, the more we do tonight the sooner we can head home.”

  “We do not get all of the timber now?”

  “We would struggle to take it back. We will need at least three journeys.” He talked as he hewed. I used the technique my uncle had taught me and it was easier. Gradually the pile of branches grew and the trunk became more like a usable piece of timber. “We need to use the wood while it still has the moisture of growth within it. When we tow them back it will help us. We will strip the bark to reveal the bast fibres and they will make rope. The first two trees will give us the keel, the bow and the stern as well as the cross pieces. It is why we chose the two largest trees. When we return it will be for the wood for the strakes and they need to be young and supple that we may shape them to make a drekar.” He paused and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I have waited my whole life to make a drekar. Every one in which I have sailed I have studied. I have spoken with shipwrights. This is good that our family builds the drekar for our toil, sweat and, I have no doubt, our blood, will be within her. With such a ship we can sail anywhere we wish.”

  The sun set and although we had not finished, we headed for the beach where Snorri had used the kindling we had brought to get the fire going. I saw Arne and Siggi collecting limpets and other shellfish. With the salted meat we had brought we would eat well. My father took out the whetstone and carefully sharpened all of the axes. He took my dagger and Arne’s sword. “Come and watch. I will give you a lesson in how to sharpen a blade.”

  I smiled, “My blade is sharp!”

  He laughed, “When you can shave my beard with it then it is sharp.” I watched him work the stone. He spat on it every now and again. He tested the sharpness. He handed Arne his sword, “Here, test it.” As Arne did so he cut himself and my father laughed. “That is sharp!” As he dabbed a piece of cloth against the wound, he saw the scar down Arne’s palm. Although Siggi and I tried to hide ours they were seen. My father nodded, “It seems our sons have sworn a blood oath.”

  Snorri asked, “Did you?”

  We all nodded. We were fearful of the consequences of our admission. My father said, “Did you spill the blood beneath a cut turf and then replace the turf?”

  Arne shook his head, “It was on a beach. The tide came in and washed away the blood.”

  “Ah, then Ran will control your destiny. You are now tied to each other and the sea. You can return from such an oath.”

  “We do not want to!”

  He nodded, “Erik, the Norns are listening. Be careful what you wish for.” He began to sharpen my blade. “Check the stew. I have an appetite.”

  We were too few to keep watch and besides it was remote. We slept well and woke with all of us safe and sound. The fire had died and so we put some stones in the embers and a piece of salted meat on the top. It warmed it through and the smell made it even more appetising. We had just dragged the two timbers and trimmed branches to the snekke when we saw the fishing ship. It appeared in the bay and there were two men in it. It did not stop. My father said. “We cut two more timbers and then raft up what we have.”

  Arne said, “It was only a fishing boat with two men within it.”

  “And they will return home and tell others. It may be that the men who live here may not mind sharing their timber but as they are the people who fled when we came to Orkneyjar I would not count on it.”

  We had started work earlier in the day and we had felled the two trees and stripped the wood by noon. I know my father had planned on felling more but we had been seen. As he and his brother used the rope to make a raft, we stripped all the foliage from the branches. We would take them home and utilise every single piece of timber we could. We piled the green foliage next to the embers of the fire to begin to dry them. We stopped for food in the middle of the afternoon. My father had us relight the fire and put on a pot of water. “I plan on sailing at night. Tomorrow there may be visitors and I would be gone. We will have a hot meal and then sail. Come Snorri, let us launch the raft. When it is done load it with the other branches and secure them with ropes.”

  Even on the drekar I had never worked as hard. We did not wish to be caught on this shore by angry warriors. We had just tethered the raft and begun to eat the stew when the warriors appeared on the cliff top. There were just six of them. It did not matter if it was six or sixty for we only had two warriors. My father turned, “Take the pot back to the boat. You boys launch the snekke. Tie the raft securely to t
he stern rail and untether her. When I give the command then lower the sail.”

  “But…”

  “Do as I command, Arne!” There was steel in his voice. We worked hard. Our time on the drekar paid off for we worked together well and soon Siggi was holding the tiller as Arne and I tied the raft. We heard a shout and the five men ran at my father and uncle. Arne shouted, “You finish here. I will help them!” He drew his sword and ran.

  I quickly tied the knot and then took my sling from the snekke. I ran towards the skirmish. My father and uncle were back to back. They were taller than the five warriors who came at them. I heard the ring of steel on wood. My father had a leather jerkin and it could take a blow from a sword. Eventually, however, it would succumb and a blade would find flesh. I saw Arne dash, like a hound to hack at the back of the leg of one of the attackers. There was a roar of pain and the man he had wounded and another turned to face Arne. My brother was in danger although my uncle now had just one man to fight. I put a stone in my sling and hurled it at the unwounded one fighting Arne. It was a hurried throw and I only managed to hit his arm but it must have hurt. Arne swashed his sword before him as Snorri hacked into the leg of his opponent. As the man fell to the sand Snorri went to the aid of my father. I stopped and fitting another stone took aim. The man whose arm I had hit turned and my stone smacked into his forehead. He fell down. The wounded man took to his good leg and he ran. As my father slew his opponent the three who were still able fled.

  I ran to Arne. “Are you hurt?”

  He shook his head but I could see that his hand was shaking. He held his sword aloft and I saw blood upon it. “I have blooded the blade! I have wounded a man! I am catching you brother!”

  My father’s voice was angry, “And you could both have been killed. You disobeyed me. Get back to the snekke and prepare to cast off.”

  “But father, they are fled!”

  In answer my father pointed to the cliff. There were men there. This time there were many more than five. “Arne, obey me!” He ran to the fire and dumped the green foliage upon it. Smoke began to billow along the beach.

  We ran to the snekke. Already the tide was taking it away. Only the weight of the raft kept it close. Siggi had done well. As we clambered aboard Arne and I took the ropes which would release the sail. Our fathers were running towards us. They had taken the discarded weapons. The men chasing them were just two hundred paces from us.

  “Lower the sail!”

  We did not wish to risk my father’s anger again and so we did as he said. ‘Jötnar’ was ready and she leapt forward like a greyhound. The raft was a dead weight and I felt the rope tighten. My father and Snorri threw their shields, boots and the captured weapons on the raft and then began to swim to us. The pursuers had reached the shoreline. As my father and uncle clambered aboard my father shouted, “Arne, Erik, slings!” I took my sling and whirling it around my head, threw a stone at the leading warrior. It was a hasty strike but Ran was guiding me for it hit the water before him and skimmed up to strike him in the face. He fell backwards clutching his face. Arne hit one on the sword hand and the sword fell beneath the water. Then the wind caught the sail fully for Snorri took the helm. The raft floated and moved easier. We had escaped but we would not be able to return to the bay again. We would have to find somewhere else for the rest.

  Once we knew we were safe my father began to laugh, “Brother what have we bred here! Perhaps we should swear an oath too eh?”

  Chapter 5

  We made it home in three days. The raft was a dead weight. We finished the food we had brought after two and had to fish. I quite liked raw fish and I was hungry enough to eat it all. I kept looking at the weapons we had captured. There were three short sword and two long daggers. I hoped that Siggi and I would be given a short sword each. As we watched Hrólfsey grow closer my father said, “We have the keel, the prow and the stern. We have the crosspieces. Those two timbers should yield forty planks. That might be enough.”

  “We need pine for the mast and yard anyway. The best is in Norway.” Snorri was eminently practical and positive.

  “Aye, I know. We cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  When we reached the shore, our problems had just begun. We had to drag the raft ashore. My father came up with the idea of tethering it at high tide and when the tide went out it would be grounded. We could then take of the ropes and haul the timbers above the high-water mark. We had the help of Edmund and Gava, Snorri’s slave. It was dark by the time that the four timbers, the cut branches and the trimmed wood were safe and secure. I was almost asleep on my feet as we reached our longhouse. My mother was normally subservient to my father but she stood up to him, “These are little more than children and they are almost asleep as they walk. For shame on you.”

  In answer he grabbed us both around the shoulders, we were still a head shorter than he was, and kissed my mother. “You are right. I forget for they do not behave as children. They draw weapons and face their father’s foes. They are Vikings but I will put them to bed!”

  I do not remember falling asleep. The next morning, when I awoke, I reached under my cot for Karl’s dagger. It was not there. I jumped up. Arne was still asleep. I shook him awake, “Karl’s dagger! Where is it?”

  “I know not, he said sleepily! I have a sword! I need no dagger!”

  I searched our sleeping chamber but could not find it. Had Edmund stolen it? I clambered down the ladder to the main hall. My mother and father sat at the table. They were eating fresh baked bread and runny goats’ cheese. The dagger was forgotten until I saw it on the table between them.

  My father chewed and swallowed. He washed the bread and cheese down with ale and then he leaned back, “Tell me all and do not think to lie.” He stared at me as though he could see into my heart. I told them all, leaving nothing out including the oath we had sworn.

  My mother rose and held my head to her bosom. “He tried to kill you!”

  “He tried but he failed for I am the better warrior.”

  My father said, “Sit, wife. We have a warrior for a son. Both our sons are warriors but Erik here has seen death and defeated it. I have never known this in one so young. You know that if you had told the jarl then Karl would have been banished?”

  I nodded, “I thought I had done more wrong in taking his knife!”

  My father laughed, “By the Allfather you have honour! Do not hide the dagger. If Karl the Lame claims it then he will be the laughing stock of Orkneyjar for he will be admitting that he tried to murder someone younger and failed.” The smile left him and he became the warrior I had seen fighting. “Never hide anything from me again! Do you understand?”

  “Yes, father, I do.”

  “Good. Now we must make a scabbard for this. It is a good blade. His father took it from a Northumbrian Eorl. There is writing on it. Wife, you can read the Saxon squiggles, what does it say?”

  She peered at it, “Rædwulf had me made.”

  My father frowned, “Rædwulf? I have not heard of him.”

  She shrugged, “Nor have I.”

  Edmund rarely spoke but he did now, “He claimed the throne of Northumbria. My father told me about him. He ruled for months but he had weapons made for him with his name upon them. He was desperate to remain king. This is an old blade. May I look at it, lord?”

  My father put his hand on his own seax as he said, “Aye, but tread carefully, thrall.”

  Edmund nodded, “See that there is a hawk carved in the handle. That was his sign. This is a well-made weapon Master Erik.”

  I looked at it in a new light. The gods had sent it to me and I would look after it.

  That day began many days which started with the sun rise and ended when it set in the western seas. We stripped the bark from the timber and collected the bast fibre. My father began to carve the prow while we helped Uncle Snorri to make the join which would fit it to the keel. Each day we soaked the other timbers with sea water. The days were getting shorter and
the time of the bone fire approached. It was as if we were in a race with nature itself.

  I now had a scabbard for the dagger. I knew its story and that made it even more special. A king had owned it. I knew not the story of how it had come into the possession of Karl’s father but I felt that it had sought me out and that made me special too. The scabbard was relatively plain. I did not wish my enemies to know that the blade was worth stealing. I doubted that Karl had known its true value. I made the scabbard at night when we had finished labouring with the drekar. By the time it was Ýlir there was shape to the drekar and we had begun to fit the planks. My father used wooden trenails rather than iron. We had no smith and it was easier. My father also thought it would be better. As the winter solstice drew closer then we knew that we would not be able to source the mast and spars. We needed pine not just for the mast and yard but also the pine tar to seal it. We had the teased wool but without the pine tar the drekar would not last long in our harsh northern seas.

  My father was philosophical about it. It meant he could spend longer carving the dragon prow. The drekar might not be a big one but the dragon prow would be intricately carved. He and Snorri worked at it during the increasingly short days of winter. My father had a name in mind for the drekar but he told no one. He considered it bad luck. He did not want the Norns to know. Snorri thought it foolish as the Norns had already spun the web of our paths and the drekar was there, taking shape before our eyes. I think he just wanted to wait until the ship was finished and he could announce it to the world.

  When Yule came and the days were so short that the sun barely made an appearance my father gave me one of the swords we had taken from the Picts. The scabbard was crudely made and it was a short sword but it was a sword. “It is not as good as one made by your mother’s people but, for a first weapon, it will do. As your brother showed even a poor weapon, so long as it is sharp, can do damage to one of our enemies.”