by Griff Hosker
“I would raid the land of the Saxons before the end of summer. The lands north of the land of the Walhaz are ripe. The wars between Wessex and her neighbours have weakened them. They have churches which are filled with silver and fine metals. They have holy books. The slaves there are hardier and less likely to run. When we go to the midsummer Thing we will speak with our friends.”
“How many do we need to crew, father?” We had finally settled on ten places for oars on each side. If we had them all manned, we would be crowded but my father and his brother had planned for the future.
My father smiled at Arne’s question. “The three of you can take an oar with Snorri. You are small yet but I believe you have the heart.” I beamed. I would be a warrior! “We have four rowers. Butar, Finn, Asbjorn and Galmr make eight.”
“Do not forget Leif.” My father nodded. “And I think Olaf Olafsson would sail with us too.”
“Then ten would be a good number. Finn and Galmr each have a son. They could be the boys. We now have to make twenty oars. We do not need them all yet but if we do not make them then we will need them; the Norns will see to that.”
Once again, despite the long days of summer there were not enough hours left in them. We worked from sunrise to sunset. The three of us needed a leather byrnie. We had the tanned hides but they needed to be cut and stitched. We had the poor swords taken on earlier raids. We made a fire and melted them down. It was hard work. We made a mould from clay for the strips and studs which would adorn the jerkin and our shields. We had each painted a design on our shields. Mine was a yellow dragon head with red eyes. When the studs were made, I would use them to fashion the dragon’s eyes. We poured the metal into the moulds. It had to be thin enough to be malleable and yet hard enough to blunt a sword. We sewed them on ourselves. Our mothers had made our helmet protectors. We could now wear our helmets. The leather straps had to be adjusted but I felt like a warrior when we wore them.
We sailed for the Thing on the day before midsummer’s eve. This was the largest Thing of the year and there would be a huge market. We had great quantities of coin. We intended to buy as much as we could to give us the greatest chance of success with our raid. The one thing we were uncertain of acquiring were maps and charts.
When I had shown my father my compass and hourglass, he had been more excited than I had ever seen. “This saves us much coin. I will use them but they remain yours, Erik. They are your treasure.”
“Then show me how to use them for I would be a navigator too.”
He shook his head, “That is a lesson for the days at sea.”
When we sailed, we did not take our helmets and shields. A Thing was a time for peace. Disputes between warriors and farmers were settled. It was a time of negotiation and reconciliation. It was also when the summer raids were decided. We reached the stad at sunset. As we entered the bay, I saw that there were two huge drekar in port. It was fortunate that we were not a drekar for we were the only ship small enough to find a berth. We recognised the pennant, it was the King of Norway’s ship. The symbol of the king was a hawk with talons clutching a serpent.
My father’s mood became black immediately. “What is he doing here? He will detract from the Thing.”
My uncle was ever the peacemaker, “Perhaps he comes to reward the jarl for our defeat of the men of Mann.”
“I see a more sinister side to this. Come we will see our friends before the Thing.” As we passed the feasting hall of the jarl, we could hear the sound of men celebrating. That would be the King, his nephew and the jarl. “We will sleep this night on the snekke. I will not beg for a bed from the jarl.”
We found an ale wife who served the beer my father and his brother enjoyed. Butar and Finn were there already. They were gloomy. We bought a jug of ale and my father asked them why the black mood.
“We thought to enjoy a feast in the jarl’s hall but we were told that he had honoured guests from Norway.”
“Honoured guests! The King of Norway is little better than a pirate who has stolen the lands of others. It is said that men flee his land and seek new homes.”
Finn nodded, “I heard that they have found a land far to the north. It is a land of ice and fire. It is in the middle of the seas to the west. A man called Naddor found it.”
I suddenly shivered. A land of ice and fire sounded like my dream. I paid even more attention.
“And why is he here?”
“None know. His nephew and the jarl spent seven nights in Dyflin and the word was that there was some sort of agreement over the future of Mann.”
My father seemed mollified by that. “Then if the King of Norway is here to guarantee that the pirates will no longer raid then I am happy.” The others nodded.
A voice from the dark shouted, “Lars! Well met!” It was Galmr and Asbjorn. They had a young warrior with them.
“Come join us this is an appropriate time. Snorri, more ale.”
Asbjorn said, “This is Harald of Dyrøy. He came to our farm seeking someone to follow.”
My father’s eyes narrowed, “Is there no jarl on Dyrøy to follow?”
“There was but Jarl Bjorn has given his allegiance to the King of Norway.”
Finn the Scar shook his head, “Then you have come to the wrong place. The King of Norway may not rule here but he, too, is an ally of our jarl.”
Asbjorn said, quietly, “I have spoken to him of your plan, Lars.”
“You should have asked me first.”
“Lars, we are too few in number to raid. We cannot turn down any who wish to raid with us.”
“Perhaps. You are welcome, Harald, but keep what is said here in your heart.”
“I will and I am an honourable man. It is why I left my island and my jarl. I would not raise a sword against him but I do not like this Harald Fairhair. It strikes me that he is a man without honour.”
The beer arrived, “Well, friends, the drekar is built. She floats and she sails like she was born to be upon the water. I intend to raid the land of Mercia.”
“Mercia?”
“Aye, Butar. There are many rivers there. The land south of the Land of the Wolf and north of Ceaster is without strongholds. The farm land is rich and there are few warriors. A small band such as ours could use a river for a raiding camp and then raid up and down the land.”
All of the assembled warriors seemed in agreement and nodded. Butar said, “Saxons make good slaves. They are easier to train and I like their churches.”
“Then after the Thing I will tell the jarl that I raid.”
Finn said, “You will ask his permission?”
My father laughed scornfully, “I am informing him as a courtesy. We have no king here. None of us have sworn an oath to him. We tell him that is all. Perhaps there may be others who might wish to join us.”
Harald said, “There will be. Many young warriors left Dyrøy at the same time as I did. I found a berth on a knarr. Others went to the Land of the Wolf while one crew sailed south to the land of Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson. It is said he will soon rule the land of the Franks and there he has no king.”
“Then I hope there are others of the same mind. We had oars to spare and twenty men will be better than the handful I have.”
I suddenly became concerned. If all the oars were taken by grown warriors, I would not have an oar. I would be a ship’s boy still. I hoped that we would not have more men wishing to ship with us. I knew that I was being disloyal but I could not help it.
Finn the Scar said, “Have you heard about Ulf North Star?” We all shook our heads. “The healer the jarl sent over was not as diligent as he should have been. Ulf’s leg went bad and they had to take it off.” He saw the look of dismay on my face and he patted my arm. “This was not your doing, Erik. Ulf said that had you not pulled out the spear then he would have died. This is a bad healer and the Norns.”
Despite the words I felt responsible. I drank less as I brooded.
The ale and beer flowed. Plans were made. T
he more the men drank the grander became those plans. I drank little for I still brooded about losing my chance of an oar. Siggi and Arne were drunk as we headed back to the snekke. Snorri carried Siggi and my father and I held Arne between us. My father was never drunk. I had seen him consume a firkin of ale and he had not appeared drunk.
“You were quiet this night.” I was silent. “Come, my son. We must have honesty between us. Speak the truth and I will not think badly of you.”
I was not drunk but I had drunk enough to have Frisian courage. “If we take on more men then I might not have an oar. I would be a warrior.”
He nodded. We neared the sea. We stopped while Snorri lowered his son into the snekke. “You do not want to be an oarsman.”
“I do!”
“I thought you wished to be a navigator.”
I was confused, “That too!”
“Which is it, navigator or oarsman?”
“You do both!”
“Not out of choice. Ulf North Star was the navigator. He is not as good as me but he was a friend of the jarl. If we fill the benches then you will learn at my side.”
I suddenly felt foolish. “I am sorry I…”
“Always speak what is in your heart. It is my way. I know that others might be upset by your words but not I. Anyway, let us worry about a crew after the Thing.”
We rose early and prepared ourselves for the Thing. Despite the low opinion my father had of both the jarl and the King of Norway he wanted us to look our best. We wore our finest kyrtles. We had combed and oiled beards and hair. Our boots were without dirt and we strode to the ale wife to meet our fellows. My father wished to be surrounded by allies. We had a horn of ale and then went to the market to buy that which we needed. The market was always better first thing and when we had bought all that we required the men returned for another horn of ale while Siggi, Arne and I took our purchases back to the snekke to store them below deck.
Despite the feasting and the carousing, the hall was already filling with warriors when we arrived not long before noon. Most of the tables and benches had been removed save for one large table and a bench. We were at the rear and we heard a cheer. The jarl, the King and the King’s nephew stood on the table and then Bjorn Bjornson clambered up too. What was Karl the Lame’s father doing there?
The King of Norway stroked his hair as he looked down on us. He was ever a vain man. He and his nephew wore golden mail. It was not gold, of course. It was ordinary mail made to look like gold. His helmet was also golden. I guessed it was copper. My father was right about this King.
The jarl held up his hands. He spoke first of all the success they had had and then flattered, uncomfortably so, the King of Norway and all of his achievements. Men became restless and so the jarl moved on to the meat of his words, “Hersir, bondi, warriors and friends, welcome to this Thing. I have spoken at many of these but today, thanks to King Harald, what I say will ripple through the ages. Today we become part of the Kingdom of Norway!”
If he thought his words would result in a torrent of cheers and applause, he was wrong. I saw the King of Norway frown and the jarl looked nervously at Bjorn Bjornson.
He ploughed on through waters which were becoming increasingly stormy, “More, we have been honoured by the generosity of King Harald. He has accepted that the King of Dyflin accepts his suzerainty. King Harald has made Bjorn Bjornson, Jarl of Mann. No longer will men fear to sail those waters.”
The silence was deafening. This was not the response either man expected.
A voice from close to the front shouted, “Why do we need the King of Norway?”
Behind the table were the hearth weru of the King. I saw them bristling. The King did not seem happy either. The jarl looked panicked, “We need fear no enemies!”
My father shouted, “We fear no enemies now! We need no king! I will follow no king!”
The silence which had greeted the jarl’s announcement was now replaced with a roar as warriors cheered my father. This was not going the way the jarl had expected. The King, embarrassed, made to leave but the jarl restrained him. He held up his arms, “Lars the Luckless knows nothing. As part of the Kingdom of Norway and the Isles no one will dare face us. The Picts will be ground underfoot. Already the King of Dyflin prepares an army to take Hibernia. When that is done and we are ready then Mercia and Wessex will fall beneath our heel!”
For the first time there was a murmur of approval from some. Butar Beer Belly shouted, “And who will pay for this army? This protection?”
The jarl made a major mistake, he answered him, “The taxes we will all pay to the King will suffice!”
My father shouted, “I have heard enough. I go to my home. If any tries to collect my taxes they had better wear good mail!” His answer was greeted by a cheer.
I watched the King of Norway bend down to speak with the jarl. The jarl nodded and turned. Pointing to my father he shouted, “Lars the Luckless is banished from Hrólfsey and Orkneyjar! He is declared outlaw! That is my decision and any man who sides with him is also declared outlaw!”
All eyes turned to my father, “So be it! You were ever a faithless jarl and now all men can see the colour of your heart!”
He turned and we all followed him from the hall. Others, not just my father’s friends, joined us. Once outside my father said, “Any who wish to follow me to a new land come to Hrólfsey. I will not stay here to be crushed beneath Fairhair’s foot. There are new lands without kings. I will find one!”
My father had cast the bones and my future changed irrevocably on that Midsummer Day.
Chapter 8
We had parted at the quay. The hall had spilled out and men had milled around debating the words of the jarl. Now I understood the need for two huge drekar. The King’s hearth weru had been inside but outside there were more than a hundred Norwegian warriors. No matter what had been said at the Thing Norway had taken over Orkneyjar. The King had doubled the size of the land he controlled. My father spoke to his friends and to the many others who came with us. They organised the opposition to the King of Norway. Arne, Siggi and I prepared the snekke. We could not stay on Orkneyjar. We might resist the jarl but the King of Norway had too many men for us to fight. We would die. If we sailed away then where would we go? The annexation of Mann and the neutralising of Dyflin limited the places we could go. Before we had attended the meeting, we were planning a future of raiding. Now we had to seek a new home.
As my father and his brother descended into the snekke Asbjorn said, “You are not alone! There are others who will not stand by and allow you to be driven from this land. We will join you at your farm”
My father said nothing but he raised his hand. He took no pleasure in being proved right. Instead of taking the steering board he waved me over, “Let us see if you can be a navigator. Take the steering board. Arne, Siggi, raise the sail. We will watch your brother sail.”
All thoughts of the future fled from my head. I had a snekke to steer. I had sailed her before, in our bay, and I had taken her for short periods to give my father some relief but this was not the same for we were in a crowded anchorage. There were many men watching us. When we reached the channel, I was relieved. While my father and Snorri talked, I concentrated upon keeping the sail filled and our course true. I did not have the open sea to contend with. I had to sail around Orkneyjar and then north to sail around Hrólfsey. I would have to tack so that no one needed to row. Time was unimportant. No matter how badly I sailed we would be home by morning. I had to ensure that we reached there safely.
Snorri tried to be the voice of reason, “We cannot fight the jarl, brother. He has the King of Norway at his back. We would kill many of them but we would be killed and our families enslaved.”
“I know Snorri but we have other matters to think on. First, it will take time to collect what we need for a new life. Will we be given that time? We have to be ready to fight. Then, where do we go? Mann or Dyflin were possibilities but the King of Norway’s web has
ended that hope.”
I looked up at the pennant and adjusted our course. The sail snapped as the wind pushed us. My father smiled and nodded.
“Then that leaves Land of the Wolf or the land of Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson.”
My father shook his head. “The Land of the Wolf, since the Dragonheart disappeared, is less friendly than it was. The best land is already taken. They are real warriors. Do you wish to tangle with the Ulfheonar?” My uncle shook his head. “And it is still a little too close to the lands of Norway. As for the land of Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson, that is a possibility but it is two moons south of here. We need somewhere else.” He looked to the north and east. “The land we heard of, the land ice and fire, sounds attractive. There are few men there and land to be had. I would go there but it is the unknown. If we had no wives then the five of us could go there but we have womenfolk and bairns to consider.”
Snorri laughed, “Then, big brother, tell me where we go, for I know that you have decided already.”
“The land south of the Land of the Wolf and north of Ceaster is without strongholds. Instead of just using a river as a base we build a new home there. True, the King of Norway will control the land to the west of us but not the north, east and south. Our drekar has a shallow draught and we can find a river which has no Vikings living there. We make a home which can be defended. We raid. When we are stronger then we decide where we go next.”
“Next?”
“Yes brother. The King of Norway seems to me to be an ambitious man. Did you not hear the jarl’s words? Already he casts his eye upon the Saxon kingdoms. Guthrum almost defeated this King of Wessex, Alfred. The King of Norway would do the same. We need a home which is far from his tentacles.” He turned to me, “You have done well but it is coming on dark and I will take a turn.” He took the steering board. “When we sail, we will have a drekar and a snekke. Both will be full and the snekke will need a helmsman. I have felt the snekke beneath my feet. ‘Jötnar’ likes your hand upon her steering board. When we leave Hrólfsey then this will be your ship to sail.”