Brothers in Blood (Norman Genesis Book 7)

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Brothers in Blood (Norman Genesis Book 7) Page 3

by Hosker, Griff


  “Father when do we get to fight?”

  I laughed, “One voyage and you would draw sword?”

  Ragnvald had a short sword. He took it from its scabbard. “I have cleaned it and sharpened it. I have never yet drawn blood.”

  Arne took out his. It was not as good a blade and was little more than a long dagger. “And I, too jarl, have a sword I wish to use to kill our foes.”

  I shook my head, “It is harder to sink a blade into a man’s flesh than you think. More than that, it is hard to be able to do so. Your foe will not simply let you stick a blade into him. He will try to kill you. It is not as easy to sink your blade into flesh as you might think. The first time I was in a battle I stood behind your grandfather and his oathsworn. Had I been in the fore I would have been in the way. Learn how to be a ship’s boy and when the time is right you will come to war. Perhaps we will ride to war. However you learn, it will be behind those who have greater skill.”

  “We are not afraid.”

  I smiled, “I can see that, Ragnvald but I am.” They both gave me a quizzical look. “I am afraid that you might fight too early and pay with your lives. This next raid will be harder for you. Try to get some rest for when we raid you will have to watch the drekar with Leif Left Handed. Then, when we return, you will have your share of treasure from two raids!”

  That replaced the disappointment of not fighting with the anticipation of riches.

  We left the anchorage and, with sails full and billowing we set off to make the short journey to the land of the Bretons. The sea was not as smooth as it had been when we had sailed to Sarnia. That was because the weather was changing. At this time of year, a sudden squall and violent wind could spring up at any time. It was another reason that I had decided on two short raids which would yield great profit and yet not risk our ships. When we sent our knarr to trade it would not be across open water. It would be around the coast where there was always shelter.

  The beach we were using to land was a long one. There were few rocks and our beaching would be easier. Our sails would make us easier to see and so, when we landed we would take down our masts and the men would row back. That was also the reason we were landing four miles from the monastery and the port. It was a secluded part of the coast. The wind freshened on the voyage. That made it quicker but it also made it a more difficult landing. The ships’ boys of all four drekar had to work quickly to make certain that the ships would not broach. Once we were stable they returned to take down the sail and then we stepped the mast. Safe on its mast fish we left the drekar.

  “Leif, keep a good watch. This part of the coast is quiet but there are still more warriors here than in Sarnia.”

  “Worry not, jarl. These lads have sharp eyes and they will keep a good watch. We have bows and they have blades.”

  Even as we left I saw the pleading in Ragnvald and Arne’s eyes. They were desperate to come with us. I would not risk them. With the scouts loping along the beach ahead of us we set off. We marched in silence and our helmets hung from the pommels of our swords. Those who lived in this land were good warriors. They fought us and they fought the Franks. My father had tried to use that to make them allies of us but the Bretons had spurned the offer saying that we were pagans and heathens. Marching on sand sapped energy from legs. The dunes, however, to our left hid us from prying eyes. I wanted surprise. The wind was from the sea. We would not be able to smell the town. We had to rely on the skill of our scouts.

  Beorn Tryggsson and his scouts returned. They ghosted over the sand dunes. The sound of the surf surging on the beach would hide our voices. “Jarl we have found them. The walls are now taller than a man.” He pointed to the south west.

  “Do they have sentries?”

  “We spied men but we only counted six. Three of them guard the part which is still wooden.”

  “And the monastery?”

  He pointed directly south. “It is just a mile that way. If the wind was in the right direction you would smell their candles.”

  “Einar, take your men. When you have the treasure then fetch it here and bring your men to aid us.”

  He nodded and took his men across the dunes. Beorn led us through the sand dunes. When we reached the top of the highest I saw, a mile or so away, the dark shadow that was Saint Maclou. I saw the tower on the church. We donned our helmets and began to move towards the walls. The port was to our right and I tapped Harold Strong Arm and Leif Sorenson on the shoulders and pointed. They took their men to capture as many of the boats as we could. If they were successful then they would take the ropes, sails and other valuable items and sail one or two of the ships to where our drekar were moored. It was why I had chosen the two warriors. Both were good sailors and both of them were able to make good decisions. They were not reckless.

  When they slipped away, we moved towards the town. In places they still had a wooden palisade. The stone wall had replaced it for most of its length. That explained why half of the guards were on the wooden section. They would see it as the most vulnerable. As we neared the wall I could see evidence of building. There were mortar pits and lime beds where they prepared the mortar for the walls. There were piles of stones ready to be lifted into place and there were small stones waiting to be used as infill. I saw a treadmill crane over what looked to be the gate to the port. We used the stones as cover as we skittered over the dark ground. When we reached the ditch, I saw that it too showed evidence of building work. There were still the broken remains of the palisade. The men of Saint Maclou wanted their walls erected as quickly as possible. They would clear the ditch when the wall was finished. It was a mistake. We could use their rubbish to enter the walls.

  Nagli Olafsson was a good archer. He had a Saami bow. We had not needed it in Sarnia but here we would. He ghosted next to me and I pointed to the walls. He nodded. He unslung his powerful bow and nocked an arrow. He headed down the ditch looking for a sentry. With his sharp eyes and skilful bow ready we could cross the ditch and begin our ascent of the walls. The walls were already taller than me. They had yet to be completed and that told me they would be much higher. Our task would be almost impossible then.

  We picked our way through the ditch. The bank was easy to climb as there were lumps of hardened mortar, stones and parts of the palisade. We reached the wall. Sigurd and Snorri took a shield and held it for me. I stepped on it and put my hands on the wall for balance. They lifted me up. My head appeared over the top. There was no fighting platform. There was a single course of stones with a gap between. The inner section was the length of my arm away. I glanced down and saw that half of it had the infill of smaller stones already. I saw a sentry. He was forty paces from me. All along the wall men were doing as I was but they were watching me. I was the jarl and I would initiate the attack. I waited. Suddenly the sentry I could see doubled over and grabbed his middle. Nagli’s arrow had struck him. He fell into the ditch. There was a crack as his falling body hit and broke some of the discarded palisade. Even as another sentry shouted something I pulled myself on to the wall. I stepped on to the inner wall and then began to lower myself down. I dropped the last pace and a half and landed on more stones.

  Whipping my sword out and sliding my shield around I turned to look for enemies as I heard a loud shout of alarm. We were seen. The cry was ended by Nagli’s second arrow. The port had many houses and buildings. There were streets and paths both broad and narrow. It was perfect for us. My men appeared next to me as I heard the sound of orders being shouted. That was not my men. We were silent. When I saw that I had Siggi and Sven next to me I headed down the widest of the streets. From the top of the wall I had spied what looked like a large building close to the church. That would be where the lord lived.

  There were screams and shouts and I heard the word ‘Vikings!’ screamed out. Our name was one of our most effective weapons. The Bretons in Saint Maclou had thought themselves safe behind their wall. They had been abed and secure. Now they were under attack from the Clan of t
he Horse from the north. They ran and, in doing so, prevented the warriors and men of the town from getting to us. One man ran from his home wielding a wood axe. He swung it at Sven who took it on his shield. Sven’s sword tore into his chest and he fell dead. I heard his wife scream. She was ignored. We wanted to kill the men. The women would be safe. The darkness was also our friend. They could not see our approach. My men swarmed through along every path, road and track in the small port. It had grown over the last years as the port had prospered. They had built wherever they could.

  There were just women, children and old before us. They were racing towards the hall. We did not kill them. They would have become an obstacle in our way. I heard orders given. The Bretons were making a stand before their hall. I glanced around and saw that there were just eight warriors with me. I stopped thirty paces from the line of Breton warriors. The women and the children; the priests and the old, all were cramming themselves into the hall. To my right I heard the clash of metal on metal as Folki and his men clashed with more warriors. I turned as Finni and his warband arrived. His sword was bloody and he was grinning.

  “Form a wedge!”

  “Aye Jarl Ragnvald. Give me the honour of being the point!”

  He was still aggrieved at having missed out on honour and glory when we had raided Sarnia. “Aye, your warband can have the honour. Sven, make a second wedge with our men. We will attack on our shield side.”

  I just had twenty-five men with me. Finni had more than forty. The Bretons were in a two-deep line which bristled with spears. The men had had time to don mail. Finni would be attacking their lord. He was encased in mail with a high domed helmet. I hoped that Finni was not overconfident. The Bretons could outfight the Franks. The jarl had yet to fight them.

  My men formed up on me. It took us less time to form our wedge as there were fewer of us. As soon as we were ready we advanced. It would help Finni for we would weaken the right side of the Breton line. When Folki and his men reached us, they could attack the left side of the Bretons. Although I had counted forty shields in the Breton front line I knew they would have more packed behind the first forty. The front rank would be their best warriors. I levelled my sword over my shield. We were at a slight disadvantage for the Bretons had spears and we had none. They would strike us first.

  Clan of the Horseman

  Warriors strong

  Clan of the Horseman

  Our reach is long

  Clan of the Horseman

  Fight as one

  Clan of the Horseman

  Death will come

  Clan of the Horseman

  Warriors strong

  Clan of the Horseman

  Our reach is long

  Clan of the Horseman

  Fight as one

  Clan of the Horseman

  Death will come

  We sang as we stepped. It must have sounded like the knell of a bell which heralded their doom. I had my eyes peering over the rim of my shield. I saw the man I would kill. I was the point of my wedge. I would be the one who struck the first blow. I would be the one to receive the first spear. The Breton shields were slightly smaller than ours. I saw that the Breton had his shield held high to protect his face. I dropped my sword so that it was level with my shield. With no warrior next to me, it was easy. There were four spears which would come towards me. Any one of them could slide over the top of my shield and take out an eye. It was a risk but my father had told me of a warrior, Haaken One Eye, who fought with the Dragonheart. A warrior could fight with one eye.

  The Bretons began to shout at us as we neared them. Their words were lost in our chant. They were cursing us. They were trying to give themselves courage for the sight of a Viking warband marching towards you was a terrifying one. I heard their priests chanting prayers to the White Christ to save them. They would have been better off wielding a weapon. My men were used to fighting behind me. They had practised for long periods. We had been getting faster as we neared the Bretons. By the time we were four paces away we were almost running. At three paces I dropped my head beneath my shield for I saw that every spear was aimed at my head. We stopped singing as we struck their line. We roared instead. We sounded like a metal covered wild beast. I had the weight of twenty-five men behind me. As we hit them they reeled and I brought up my sword, blindly into the morass of men before me. It tore up into the mail and then through into the flesh of the warrior I had faced. I twisted as I struck and he screamed. I pulled back my sword.

  The gap I had created allowed Siggi and Sven to slash and stab at the men whose spears had been aimed at me. I lowered my shield and saw a spear come directly for my head. I flicked my head to the side and the spear head scored a line along the helmet. Once again, I thrust. This time there was no mail and I felt my sword scrape along bone. These were not the best warriors we faced. I looked up and saw just two ranks remained and none had spears. Now was the time to bring all twenty-five of my men into action. “Break wedge!”

  I stepped on to my shield leg and punched at the man on my left. I raised my sword, ready to strike at the one to my right. Suddenly my head rang as a stone from a sling hit it. The man to my right took advantage and lunged at me. I was lucky that I wore mail made by Bagsecg. The links were tightly made and riveted. The tip of the sword caught in them. As the Breton pushed and the tip touched my padded kyrtle, I brought my sword down and cracked into his blade. It forced it down. The man I had punched with my shield lay on the ground beneath me. I stepped onto his face as I swung the shield sideways at the man who had tried to stab me. My shield had a metal rim. The man beneath me screamed as my seal skin boot broke his nose and jaw. My shield hit the Breton under the chin. As his head was knocked backwards his arms flailed to help him keep his balance. I swept my sword across his middle. It ripped through his kyrtle. I saw what he had eaten last!

  I saw that there were no more men before me. Sven and Siggi had slain the others. Sven reached down and slit the throat of the man with the broken nose. There were one or two men to my left still fighting but the main battle was around Finni. “Reform on me!”

  “Are you hurt, jarl?”

  “No Sven. I am lucky. The gods have been kind this day.”

  As our men gathered behind the three of us Sven said, “Not so Jarl Finni!”

  I saw what he meant. His wedge had Bretons lapping around the side. He was in danger of being defeated. He had overestimated his men. There was no time to wait, “Clan of the Horse, Charge!”

  We threw ourselves into the flanks of the Bretons. We took them by surprise. The first three were slain by us before they even knew we were there. Tearing their bodies from our fore we punched with shield and sword into the backs of Bretons who had no mail. I heard, from the other side, the clash of wood on wood as Folki and his men hit the other flank. We had them beaten but Finni was still in trouble. As I stabbed a Breton in the side I saw a Breton weapon rise and strike the helmet of Jarl Finni Bennison. His helmet disappeared.

  I fought even harder. My arms were already aching from the battle thus far but one of our oar brothers was in trouble. I was lucky to have two such strong warriors next to me. They stopped any blows from striking me as we gouged our way through the Bretons. They had now turned to face us and that, alone helped the oathsworn of Finni Bennison to protect their jarl.

  A mailed warrior who was next to the Breton lord faced me. He had, not a sword, but a mace. They were a deadly weapon. Although they had no edge they had spikes of metal and could break bones and shatter skulls even those protected by helmets. I was aware of that as I faced him. My helmet had been scored by sword and struck by stone already. I held my shield higher. The Breton would have to swing the weapon. I would have an idea of the direction. He used a direct approach. He smashed the mace against my shield and my arm shivered. He was a powerful man and I felt the blow. I feinted with my sword at his head and when his shield flicked up I changed the move to a thrust to his thigh. I hit his leg just above the knee where there w
as no mail. As it sank into flesh and grated off the knee cap I twisted. I did not take my eyes from his face. His face contorted and he swung again at my head. He had quick hands. As I pulled out my sword I took the blow from his mace on my shield. I was driven back. I saw his mouth widen in a grin as he saw his chance. He made the mistake of trying to thrust off his left leg. It would not support him. He sank to his knees. Off balance myself I managed to lunge forward and my sword went through his throat. As I tore it out blood sprayed in every direction.

  I was about to attack the Breton lord when Karl Pederson brought his axe over to hack through the arm and into the chest of the lord. He fell to the ground his life blood pumping away. The death of the lord and his oathsworn was the signal for the end of the battle. Those that fought on had no heart and many surrendered. I turned and knelt next to Jarl Finni Bennison. I saw that he had been struck by the mace of the man I had killed. The helmet had broken and the side of his skull was broken. He had lost his right eye too, yet still he breathed.

  “Karl, go into the hall. Find priests and healers. The jarl might yet be saved.”

  “Aye jarl. Thank you for coming to our aid.” He disappeared into the hall. My men had already broken down the door and I could hear screams from inside. My men were not harming the women, children, old and the priests. They were making sure that none had weapons. You do not harm your own goods.

  Folki came with a bloody and scored arm. “They fought hard, jarl!”

  “They did. Sort out the ones worth selling as slaves and have the men collect all the treasure.”

  “Aye Jarl. Will Finni live?”

  “That is in the hands of the Allfather.” He turned to begin giving orders. “Sven and Siggi, go to the port and see if we have ships. If we do then we can begin to load them. Find a small fast vessel. We may have to send Jarl Finni back to our home.”

  “Aye Jarl.”

  I took off my helmet. It would need work. The scoring could be buffed away but the dent from the stone would make it weaker. I had a spare but I liked this one.

 

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