“Then we will raid the land of the Franks?”
“I can read your mind Göngu-Hrólfr, you wish to go to your home. Two or three years should be enough time for us to gather the fleet that we will need. We will be raiding again at the end of the month.”
“And where will we raid?”
“The Danes. They keep pigs. They feed us well over the winter. It is not far to travel and we know the waters better than we did those of Frankia.”
I was disappointed. It must have shown.
“Where would you raid?”
“There are churches along the east coast of Northumbria. They would be just as close and they would yield greater rewards.”
“They have stronger defences. The days when they were like sheep to be fleeced are gone.” He shrugged, “When you have been here a while then your voice will be heard. My uncle does listen to his warriors. Sven Blue Arm is the most important of warriors. He has defeated many other champions in single combat. He likes you. If you can get him to support your idea for a raid on the east coast then it may happen.”
“But not this season.”
“No. The clan decided where we would raid three days after you arrived. We held a Thing.” He looked at me apologetically. “You are not yet one of the clan. When it is Yule you will be made one of the clan. After that you can speak.”
I had time before we raided to make a bow and some arrows. I had used a bow since I had been able to stand alone. Now that I was much bigger and stronger I could use a much longer bow. My grandfather had always said that the longer the bow the better. The hardest part was to find a yew. It was Bergil’s mother who told me where to find one. I cut and shaped the bow over a period of three days. She also had plenty of goose feathers. When I had made my arrows, I used flint for the heads. I had no coin for metal.
Bergil saw me practising. “What do you want a bow for? A warrior fights with a sword or a spear.”
“True but a bow can be useful and besides I have a mind to go hunting. I would like a deer hide jerkin. I am used to fighting in mail.”
“Mail is expensive!”
“Most of my father’s warriors had mail.”
“I will come hunting with you. I know where there are deer.”
Bergil brought a spear and he carried a water skin and a bag with food. That should have warned me that this would not be as quick as at home, in the Land of the Horse. I knew that it would be more difficult to hunt here than at home. At home the land was largely flat. The trees were different and I knew my way around; also, I could ride. Here we walked, and in places, climbed. The deer were also different to the ones I had hunted. Their tracks were the same but they grazed different areas. If I had not had Bergil with me then I might not have even found one. As it was it took us most of the morning and into the afternoon until we found some. We were almost in the next valley when we did so. There were two of them.
I held an arrow ready to nock. I had practised with the bow but that had been without flint arrow heads. I held a spare arrow against the bow. Pine needles were a hazard. They crunched when you stepped on them and they were more slippery than I had expected. After I had made a noise and they had skittered some thirty paces from us then I changed my approach. I looked for the rocks and used those. It made my approach even slower. When I was just forty paces from them I nocked my arrow and pulled back. I had made a good bow. Grandfather would have been proud. I released and Ullr must have guided my hand. The arrow flew true and struck the doe. She managed ten paces before she fell to the ground.
Bergil slapped my back. “A fine hit. May I try the bow?”
“Of course.” I handed him the spare arrow and the bow. He pulled it back. He could not manage to get half the distance I had.
“By the Allfather! How do you manage to pull back this beast?”
“You make a bow for the man who draws it. If we made one for you then it would be shorter.” I shrugged, “I am a big warrior.”
We reached the deer and while I gutted it Bergil rammed the spear he had brought through its body. It would make it easier for us to carry. I left the heart and kidneys in the animal but I put the rest by the spilled blood for Ullr to thank him for his help. The arrow was ruined. Had I been at home I could have re-fletched it and used it again. The flint had done its job but it had broken and the shaft with it.
As we carried the carcass down the twisting path I asked, “Have you a smith? When I get coin, I would have some arrows made and I will need metal for my leather jerkin.”
“I would not worry overmuch about that, Göngu-Hrólfr. When we raid the Danes, you can take metal from them.”
Bergljót, Bergil’s mother, was delighted with the venison. I skinned it for I wanted the largest piece of deer hide I could get. When you are my size then you are aware of such things. The meat would be prepared in two ways. We would eat some of it and the rest would be preserved. I gave a haunch of it to Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson. Gefn beamed, “You are such a kind and thoughtful young man.” Her eyes welled up, “Your poor mother will be worried about you.”
Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson said, “You know, mother, that a Viking steps into the world knowing that he might never return home.”
Gefn looked sadly at her husband, “And a Viking woman never ceases grieving and worrying.”
She was right and I felt guilty. I had given little thought to my mother and her predicament. I had not finished preparing the deer hide before we left to raid. I had clothes now and I would have to use my seal skin cape as protection. At least I had helmet, shield and sword. I did not feel so bad when I boarded the drekar. There were others who were dressed as I was. Some had no helmets and many were my age. The difference was that this would be their first raid. I felt like a veteran. I put my belongings in the chest. As we rowed down the fjord to the sea I was able to admire the rugged nature of the land. I could see why they needed no horses here. The land would not support them. It explained why they thought I would be too big for a horse. They had ponies which were so small that they could walk between my legs without touching me. It was a lovely land but it was not mine. As we left the fjord and turned south I knew that this would be the first step on a long journey but that journey would take me home. I would be returning to the Land of the Horse.
It took two days for us to reach the seas of the Danes. I was relieved to see that this land was not like Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson’s. There were islands and the land was flat. The two brothers had raided here before and they knew where they wished to raid. Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson took us away from the land so that we could approach in the dark. This was not like the raid in Wessex. There we had had many ships and a river to use. Here we sailed through the dark to a shadow. The jarl was a skilful sailor. There were no chants and no shouts. The ship’s boys came down and spoke quietly with our orders. Two men were left to scull the last few paces as we shipped our oars, donned our helmets and took our shields from the sides. Some warriors had no sword but those carried spears. I noticed that none of these warriors donned colours on their faces and hands. Some of my grandfather’s warriors did.
We slid up on a shingle beach. I was new and I knew my place. The jarl and his brother leapt ashore first followed by Sven Blue Arm. The warriors with mail led the way. There were just ten warriors who wore mail. The rest of us, all forty looked ragged by comparison. Bergil ran with me. He had become my oar brother. Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson and Sven Blue Arm had moved us so that we rowed together. That made us shield brothers. The Danes had a stockade. Bergil had told me that when we had sailed south. The Danes thought that would protect them. The jarl believed that they did not keep a night watch.
We loped through the trees. They were more familiar to me than the ones in which we had hunted. I smelled the smoke of cooking fires. We were close. We halted when I could see the solid shadow of the stockade. Sven Blue Arm waved his arm and we moved into a long line. The plan was to scale the walls and fall upon them. The idea was a familiar one. Two men
would hold a shield and a third would use it to ascend. A young warrior, Arne Larsson was with us. He looked a little slight to me. As we neared the wall I realised that I could almost reach the top of it with my hands. As Arne unshipped his shield I shook my head and turned with my back to the wall. Bergil realised what I intended. He put a sealskin boot in my hands and I lifted him up. He put his feet on my shoulders and slipped over the wall. I nodded to a surprised Arne. He did the same. The two were in the stockade before anyone else. I stepped away and then ran at the wooden wall. Arne and Bergil reached out and grabbed an arm. I scrambled up the wall. I made a noise but it was not a loud one.
The three of us were the first on the fighting platform along with Sven Blue Arm. This was not the plan. The first ones inside were supposed to be mailed warriors. Sven pointed to the gate while he helped his shield brother up. I led the way. Arne hesitated and Bergil just followed me. We had not said that this was what we would do but it felt right. I had fought more times than both of them. I drew my sword and swung my shield around. With the wall to my left I would have the freedom to swing with my right arm.
There was a sentry. A Dane was resting with his back against the stockade. He must have been asleep but the vibration of our feet along the fighting platform awoke him. He stood and looked around him. That hesitation cost him his life. I swung my sword so hard that it took his head which flew beyond the walls and the headless corpse slid to the fighting platform. I climbed down the ladder and reached the gate. I sheathed my sword and laid my shield on the ground. I took the heavy bar and lifted it from the gate. I placed it on the ground and, picking up my shield, opened the gate. Bergil and Arne joined me as Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson led the older warriors inside the walls. He nodded his thanks.
He and his oathsworn took the lead. The jarl’s brother pointed to Arne and another young warrior to stand and guard the gate. I think Arne was grateful. We had not reached the first hut when the alarm was given. A woman came out of a hut and, seeing Jarl Rognvald Eysteinsson, screamed. One of his warriors slew her. I do not think he even knew it was a woman. It was a shadow which screamed but I saw her body as we passed. A warrior stepped out with a sword in hand. He lunged at me. I instinctively brought around my shield and the blade slid along it. He was so close that I could not swing my sword. I pulled back my arm and struck him in the side of the head with the pommel of my sword. He fell to the ground and Bergil stabbed him. We stepped into the hut. There were three children. I pointed to the door and shouted, “Run!” They looked terrified. Later Bergil told me that he would have been terrified if a giant had entered his world when he had been so young. They ran.
I saw the warrior’s chest and opened it as Bergil searched the rest of the hut. He found the family’s coins and took them. We emptied the chest of that which we did not need and added the coins. We placed the chest by the door. We would retrieve it before we left. Once outside we headed towards the clamour of sword on sword. The Danes had made a shield wall before their chief’s hall. Our mailed men were in a wedge led by the jarl, his brother and, at the fore Sven Blue Arm. We took our place at the rear of the line. I put my shield into the back of the next man and I pushed. I was big and I was heavy. The wedge lurched forward.
With mailed, experienced men at the front our wedge hacked and slashed into the heart of the half formed Danish shield wall. We, at the back, were just weight. Suddenly we almost lost our footing as the jarl slew their chief and we broke through.
“Break wedge!”
I turned and ran towards three Danes who were just five paces from me. Bergil ran at them with me. My height gave me an advantage. I had a longer sword than they did and my arms were longer too. I swung at them as they closed with us. My sword sliced through the head of the first warrior and the tip ripped the cheek of the second one. My shield smashed into him, knocking him to the ground. As he lay there, sprawled like a beach fish I plunged my sword through his chest. The third Dane was glancing fearfully at me as Bergil slid his sword into his ribs.
We looked around. There were no more Danes. Our warriors were searching the dead Danes. We had three before us. Their purses yielded coins. We took their helmets, swords and daggers. They were metal and, as such, they were valuable. We left their hammers around their necks. It was bad luck to take a warrior’s token. There was a hut nearby. We entered. The family had fled. The warrior’s chest lay there. We opened it and discarded the clothes. After putting in the swords, helmets and daggers we searched the hut. There was a mail shirt. Too small for me it was a good fit for Bergil. His eyes lit up. “Mine?”
I grinned, “It might fit one of my arms. Yours.”
We moved the sleeping sack. I found a sword. It was not just any sword. It was a long sword. It was almost the height of a man. The gods had sent it to me. When I moved it, I saw an area of soft earth. Using my seax I cleared it. The tip touched a box. We dug it up. It was the family fortune. There were coins. When I had lived in the Land of the Horse I might have given them to one of the servants. Now they represented the start of a fortune. If I was to lead men south and have vengeance then I needed coin. We put the coins in our chest and we carried it out. We headed back to the first hut. We put the first chest on top of this larger one and walked back to the drekar. I laid my new sword on the top. Others were making the same journey as well as the wounded warriors who were being taken back. We dumped the two chests on the jetty and then turned to return to the village.
We could see that the battle, if battle it was, was over. Warriors had taken off their helmets. They were drinking the villagers’ ale. I heard the squeal of pigs and the lowing of cattle. Sven Blue Arm nodded to us. He was always a hard man to please. “You did well. Your weight came in handy!”
Bergil shook his head. “We slew five warriors, Sven Blue Arm. When we both have mail then you will see us next to you.”
He laughed, “That will be the day!”
The Jarl and his brother walked towards us behind eight pigs and six young cows which were being driven towards the drekar. They both looked happy. “A good raid. We lost but one warrior.”
Bjorn Eysteinsson nodded, “We caught them while they slept. They should have had a guard.” He pointed at me. “And, of course, they did not know that we had a giant with us who could boost men over the wall. I believe that you, Bergil and Arne made it easier for us. Brother, you made a fine catch!”
The jarl looked sad, “The gods took my son and gave us Göngu-Hrólfr. The clan may be happy but I have still lost a son.”
Bergil said, “I have no father. Now that I have a byrnie I will try to be the son you lost.”
The jarl put his arm around Bergil, “Then between the two of you there should be a son for me eh? Come let us board the drekar. We will have a noisy and smelly journey home.”
Bergil asked, “Do we not take slaves?”
“We do not have enough room. The chests and supplies we took and the animals will have to be enough.”
Once at the drekar we loaded our two chests below the deck along with the sacks of wheat, barley and oats. The other chests were placed there too. It seemed that, the animals apart, the treasure remained the property of the one who took it. They were a different clan to mine.
The jarl was right, we could not have carried slaves. We lost one pig which became agitated when we put to sea. It ran around before using a chest to leap into the sea. The fishes would feed well. It was fortunate that the wind was from the south west and we did not need to row much. It would have been hard to do so with the animals we had on board. The ship’s boys were in constant demand to clean up after the beasts.
I got to know the rest of the crew. I knew Arne. He was relieved to have survived. I recalled that he had been happy to guard the gate. He was still to be blooded. Leif Jorgensen was older than Bergil and I but he had, unlike Sven Blue Arm, a sense of humour. He regaled us with funny stories as we watched the grey seas scud by. Sven Blue Arm seemed preoccupied with war and being a warrior. I lea
rned, through Leif’s words, rather than Sven’s, that Sven had not been born into the clan. He had had a falling out with his ship mates and the jarl had discovered him on the island of Ljoðhús. Grateful not to be marooned amongst people he did not know he swore allegiance to the jarl. That had been five years since and in that time, he had made the clan stronger for he was a real warrior. He reminded me of Harold Strong Arm.
“Sven, the jarl’s brother said that we gained access to the Danes too easily for they had no guards. They had a wall and we have neither wall nor guards. What if we were raided?”
Sven nodded and gave me a sideways look. Before he could speak, Leif said, “We are a long way down the fjord. It would take a determined enemy to find us.”
I persisted, “But if they did then we might all suffer the same fate as the Danes.”
Before Leif could speak again Sven put up his hand, “You are right. I have made the same point to the jarl. His clan never needed one and he sees no reason to build a stockade. Did you have one?”
“We needed one for our land is flat and close to the coast. It is fertile and ripe for raiding. My grandfather and my father built stone walls and my grandfather has a stone tower.”
“The jarl likes you, Göngu-Hrólfr. He might listen to you. We did not slay all the Danes in the village. They know who we are and there are other villages on the island. We picked a rich one but one which we knew was poorly defended.”
I was interested, “How did you know that?”
“Last year we took the drekar down and we traded with them. They like our seal oil.”
“Then they will know exactly who you are. Perhaps you should have gone in disguise.”
Sven laughed, “I can see that we have a cunning warrior here. Your size suggests that you are all muscle but that is not true. There is a sharp brain inside your head.”
Brothers in Blood (Norman Genesis Book 7) Page 16