It took two days to reach the fjord. I was glad when we saw our home for it meant I would not have the stink of pigs and cattle in my nostrils. The animals were taken off first and the decks swilled down. We then lifted the deck. The cereal was taken ashore as well as the preserved meat we had taken. The Danes also made good, hard cheese and we unloaded the six rounds. Then we took the chests. We had all marked our own. Bergil and I had the luxury of being able to take our two chests to his home. We could examine our booty without prying eyes.
Bergljót was relieved that her son was still alive, “I have the venison bones. I have made a stew with them and some salted meat. We have pickled fish as well. You can show me what you have brought when I have added some vegetables and dumplings to the stew.”
Bergil had eyes only for his byrnie. He waved a distracted hand at me as I took out the weapons and helmets we had collected. “Take whatever you wish. I have a mail vest.”
I nodded, “Good. I will see if the smith will let me use his forge. I would melt down the poorer helmets and weapons to make arrow heads and studs form my leather jerkin and shield.”
“Next time we raid you will get mail.”
“No Bergil. I will have to have a mail shirt made and they are not cheap.” I had sorted the coins out. “We both have money but there is not enough yet for a byrnie. Besides, Sven said that we would not be raiding again this year. We have no reason.”
Bergil looked disappointed. “I wanted to wear the mail!”
“It takes some getting used to. If I were you I would have your mother make you a padded kyrtle to go beneath it. They chafe and, even with mail, you can still be hurt by a blow from a sword. The quilted kyrtle will soften it.”
“You had a mail byrnie?”
“When I was younger and before I grew. My last one lies at the bottom of the ocean. I had a fine helmet too. When last I fought I had a byrnie which was more like a vest or jerkin.”
Bergil laid down his byrnie, “This must seem like a poor and backward place to you. No wall, poor farms and warriors who cannot afford mail.”
I shook my head, “No, Bergil for if it were not for this haven, I would lie at the bottom of the sea. It is not what I am used to but that is my challenge. I must make it stronger so that I can be returned to my family. You could come with me!”
“I could not leave my mother but I would like to see it. This Haugr you speak of sounds magical!”
“It is, Bergil, it is.” I became sad when I thought of the home I had had and now had lost. What was happening there? Was my dream that which was happening or that which might happen?
Bergil was pleased with his find but I was even more pleased. I examined my long sword. It was a fine weapon. The hut we had searched must have been the chiefs. This weapon was too good for an ordinary warrior. From the hilt I guessed the Dane had used it two handed. The chief had not taken it for he needed to use a shield wall. Perhaps this was for those times when he fought others in single combat. I was tall enough to be able to use it. I had found treasure. I had a sword. Not only that I had a sword which only I could use. Once again, I realised that my thread was still being spun. The Norns’ web was a complicated one. I was on the path to becoming a warrior once more.
Chapter 11
I discovered that winter came early when you lived this far north. We had much to do in order to prepare the two drekar for winter. We dragged them onto the small beach which was just upstream from the jetty. Stripped to our breeks we cleaned all the weed from the hull. It was a slow job. The barnacles and limpets had to be scoured off with a blade and I had bloody hands after a short time. Then we had to coat the strakes with a mixture made from pine tar and resin. In all it took four days by which time the weather had deteriorated. We then had to make more pine tar to take with us when we sailed. While we waited for the coating to dry on one side, so that we could do the other, we went into the forests to cut down two spare masts and yards. I knew from my father’s shipwright, Harold Haroldsson, that every ship needed a complete set of spares and whilst some of the smaller pieces of equipment could be quickly fashioned, masts and spars were specifically sourced. I enjoyed it.
“Give Göngu-Hrólfr an axe. I would like to see how he can use those long arms and broad back of his.”
Sven was challenging me. I did not mind and I accepted it. Harold Strong Arm had shown me how to use an axe. He had taught me for war but the stroke would be the same for timber. We had long axes. They were not war axes. We had taken some of those from the Danes we had killed. This was a more functional axe. With a sharp blade and long handle, it was for one purpose only: to fell trees. The tree was not massive. It was as wide as my leg. I held the axe with my right hand closer to the head and my left at the end of the axe. I pulled the axe behind and above me. As I swung I slipped my right hand down the shaft to my left. The tree shivered when I struck it. The blade had bit deeply into the trunk. The warriors watching gave an appreciative cheer. My second blow was struck horizontally and was just as fierce a blow. A large wedge of wood fell from the tree. I moved to the other side and repeated the two blows. The did this three more times. By then I knew that it would not take much to bring it down. The tree was already teetering. I pulled back by arm and struck my last blow. I stepped out of the way as the tree crashed through its lesser companions and hit the ground.
Sven took the axe from me. “You have earned the right to watch us try to do the same. When next we fight, try a Danish axe. I would like to see that!”
We had taken hatchets and side axes as well as saws. I could not let my shield brothers do all the work and we all joined in trimming the tree to the right size. We then sought smaller ones for two yards. We carried them back down to the village. Four days later we launched the drekar again and the figureheads were repainted. All was finished as the first flakes of snow fell. As a reward the jarl had laid on a feast. I found that I was happy here. It might have been perfect save for the fact that I needed to have vengeance and I was worried about my home, my family and, most of all, my grandfather.
At the feast I was seated close to the jarl. He had asked me to join him. I am not sure that his brother appreciated the honour for he was seated on the other side of Gefn. “Sven is not easily impressed, young giant. Yet he is impressed by you. He says you believe we should build a stockade and keep a watch.”
I nodded, “Winter is coming, is it not, jarl?”
“Yes, the fjord often freezes. The world becomes white and our nights are so long that we have no days.”
“Then if I were a Dane I would choose that time to come and to raid. Darkness can hide killers and men can use the ice as a roadway.” I saw the jarl take that in. I had my arguments prepared. “And what will the men do in the winter? Bergil says that they will make new warriors. From what I have heard that will take but the blink of an eye.” The jarl laughed and nodded. “I know that the ground is too hard now to build a stockade. All we need is two men in a wooden tower to watch. We have fifty men. That is a whole day or a long night of watchers. Each pair could do one hour. The Franks use candles which are marked so that they can measure time.”
“And the stockade would be built when the snow melts?”
“That would be a good time. It would help to prepare the warriors for raids. In my experience men become fat and lazy in their halls at winter time”
“I will give it consideration and I will talk of it to my brother and my wife. It is not without merit.”
Sven had been listening and, as the jarl went over to speak to another warrior Sven Blue Arm leaned over. “How did you manage to persuade him when I could not?”
“I just gave him answers to questions he had yet to think of. He did not agree to build a tower. He said he would consider it.”
Sven laughed, “But he will. More ale for Göngu-Hrólfr!”
Sven was right and, from then on, all of us were given a duty. First, we had to build the tower. That was easy for there was plenty of wood left over fro
m the mast and yards. It rose ten paces into the air and a ladder was made to allow the sentries to climb. It had a roof and there was a cow’s horn. It had come from the cow we had slaughtered for the feast. It would be sounded if there was danger. Sven took charge of the manning of the tower. He reminded all of us of the Danish village. We were paired off with our oar mates. We drew lots for our first duty. There were enough of us so that the duty would change over a period of time. Those that had the dark hours at first, would eventually have either the brief time of dawn or the flash that would be sunset.
As luck would have it Bergil and I drew one which entailed being woken. It was hard to leave the comfortable goose down bed, get dressed and go into a night where our breath froze before our faces. On that first duty I took my bow and arrows as well as my sword.
“Why the bow?”
“If I see someone then while you sound the horn I can try to hit him.”
We settled in to the tower. We had a fine view of the fjord. It had yet to freeze. We could see the drekar and the halls and houses. Sven himself had picked the site for the tower.
“How far can you send an arrow?”
I tested it not long after I made it. “I can make an arrow travel more than two hundred paces along the flat.”
“And from a tower?”
I shrugged, “I have yet to try that out. But I would guess further.”
We settled into a routine. Despite some misgivings none of the warriors seemed to object to the duty. It was not long. It gave us a chance to talk to oar brothers. I told Bergil all about my home and he told me about the village and his dead cousin. He told me of his other cousin, Bjorn’s son. He told me how it had affected the whole clan. He had been a popular warrior. Some had said he would be able to lead the clan.
When we met the other sentries, we were able to compare our duties. Sound travels at night and the young men in the warrior hall were the closest to the tower. The noises which emanated thence were a great source of amusement and embarrassment. The tower became a focal point of our day and that helped us grow closer as warriors.
I found the smithy and the smith was more than happy to let me use his forge in exchange for some labour. I did not mind. I was still growing and it made me stronger. When the weather turned colder it was the perfect place to be. Working with Farmaðr gave me new skills. I melted down my scrap metal and used the moulds I had made from river clay for the arrow heads and the studs for my jerkin and shield. I made simple arrow heads. They were narrower than hunting arrows. I wanted something which would penetrate a mail ring. In the long nights leading up to Yule I made arrows and fashioned my jerkin. That too was made simply. I did not have enough to cover my arms. I used the hole where the head of the deer had been and used thongs for the sides. That way, if I continued to grow, it would still fit. There would just be increasingly large gaps at the side.
Yule came and went. They celebrated Yule differently to the Clan of the Horse. I knew why. They had no Christians living amongst them. I enjoyed Yule. It was nature which was celebrated and the power of the gods. It was not the birth of a baby in a faraway land. The sea ice which I had been promised never materialized and the waters remained free for our fishing boats to catch fish for us to eat.
After Yule the nights became shorter. Not by much, it was imperceptible at first but the duties became a kind of timepiece we had something we could use to reference its passing. We knew that the new grass would show when the snows melted. Already the lower slopes were more mud and slush than snow. Bergil and I had just come down the tower after a middle of the night duty. It had been a night with a bright moon. Bergil’s mother always left a good fire and a jug of ale. We used to reward ourselves by putting a healthy knob of butter in the ale along with some juniper berries and then plunging a hot poker into it. Sometimes we added cream. The hot drink helped us to sleep. We just took off our cloaks when we saw the table with the ale and the cheese. We both wore our armour. Bergil liked to wear his new byrnie and I was always warmer in the deerskin jerkin. It looked so appetising we did not change. We ate and we drank.
Even though we had been talking for most of our watch we talked as we drank our ale.
When we were together Bergil called me Rollo. It seemed more appropriate than Göngu-Hrólfr. “Rollo, do you have girls in your land?”
I laughed, “Of course! How do you think we make babies?”
“No, I meant are they pretty girls? Are they the kind a warrior would like to lie with?”
“I suppose.” I drank some beer and thought about it. “We are lucky. We have women who were once slaves. They are Saxons, Hibernians, Welsh, even Franks. It means we have lots of different types of women, why?”
“I don’t know if you have noticed but we do not have many girls here and those we have are guarded by their fathers and brothers. I regretted not getting slaves.” He patted himself between his legs. “I wish to use this more than just to make water.”
“You are young.”
“Hark at old father time! My father was younger than I when he sired me.”
Our conversation was ended by the sound of the horn. We were under attack! I still had my sword strapped to my belt. I slipped my shield over my back and I just grabbed my bow and four arrows from my pouch as we raced from the hall. Bergil lived in the upper part of the settlement. The ones closer to the fjord were the poorer people of the clan. I saw the mast of a large drekar. It was approaching the shore. There would be just four men to slow down the attackers. Us and the two who were on duty. Sámr and Ragnar would be hurrying down the ladder. The men who would be disembarking were lining the sides of the drekar. They had helmets and, in the moonlight, I saw the glint of mail. It was a big drekar, it had perhaps twenty oars on each side. It could have up to eighty men on board.
I had elevation. The drekar was less than a hundred and fifty paces from us. I ran another twenty paces and stopped to nock an arrow and draw my bow. I took aim at the prow. There was a warrior in mail with raised Danish axe. I let fly and nocked another. I drew and sent this one into the press of men. I saw the Dane with the axe fall backwards into the men. I sent my third and fourth arrows quickly into the confused mass of men. Dropping my bow, I swung around my shield, drew my long sword and Bergil and I ran down to join Sámr and Ragnar who were waiting for us.
Sámr shouted, “Fine arrows, Göngu-Hrólfr. Perhaps our bodies may slow them down and allow Sven Blue Arm to organize our warriors.”
Ragnar shouted, “Lock shields.”
Bergil went on my left side Sámr and Ragnar on my right. Men had clambered over the side of the Danish drekar. Their weapons and their shields told me that they were Danes. Behind us I heard Sven’s voice as he shepherded our men down to the fjord. The Danes just ran at us. They saw four men. None of us had helmets. Our shields hid our bodies and they must have assumed that we wore no mail. Although only Bergil had a byrnie the other two wore, like me, metal studded leather. They might kill us but we would die hard. I held my long sword over my shield. With my long arms and a sword which was a hand and a half longer than any other my blade would strike the first blow.
The Danes obliged us by racing at us in an untidy and disorderly mass. Harold Strong Arm would not have approved. I pulled back my arm and, as the leading Dane ran at me I rammed the sword forward with all the power that I had. My hand was quicker than his. Even as he moved his shield up the tip of my sword rammed into his open mouth. His speed and my arm drove it through the back of his skull. He flopped like a fish and dropped from my sword. His body fell across us.
Ragnar shouted, “Step back!”
It was a clever move. By moving backwards, the dead body became a tripping hazard. They would be slowed down. I heard the rest of our warriors as they hurried from their huts. The next Danish attack was a little more organized. Five men carefully stepped over the body and then advanced upon us. Instead of stabbing with my long sword, this time I swept it across our front. My long arms and the long blade mea
nt that they all had to protect themselves. Their shields came up and their heads went back. They slowed and each moment was precious to us for it brought help a step closer.
The Danes were all ashore now and someone organised a wedge. We had retreated up the side of the path to the jarl’s hall. It was steep. Their heads would be below ours. The five men clashed with us. My swinging sword smacked into the side of the helmet of one warrior. Another was stabbed by Ragnar. A spear darted up at me. I almost forgot that I had no helmet and the spear gouged a line along my cheek. Unable to swing I punched my sword into the face of the Dane who faced me. He lost his balance and tumbled backwards. He rolled down the slope and the Danish wedge was forced to halt. The body of the dead Dane had slowed them already.
I felt a shield press into my back and saw that Sven Blue Arm was now next to Bergil. Others joined both Sámr and Sven. We had bought the time. A scarred cheek was a small price to pay. Sven’s sword stabbed into the side of one of the two Danes who were still before us. The last brought his axe to smash into Ragnar’s skull before Sámr ended the Dane’s life. Eystein pushed Ragnar’s body to block the Dane’s advance and he stepped into the gap. We would mourn and honour Ragnar later. He could still serve the clan, even in death.
The Danish wedge was not as tightly packed as it should have been. They were stepping over bodies and that left gaps. They were also coming for me. I had now become the centre of our line. My height meant that they were drawn to me. I saw the chief with a Danish war axe. He was the tip of the wedge and he marched to me. What he did not know was that I had such a long sword. He could only use his axe two handed if he put his shield behind him. He could not do that for he was the tip. He held his axe just below the head. He would stab with it. He would see that I had no protection for my head. I heard him order the charge and I jerked my sword forward. He had an open helmet and I saw his eyes widen as he saw the sword come towards him. I had power in my arm and even though his shield came up I was able to drive the sword into his right shoulder. I twisted and the axe fell from his fingers. Bergil brought his sword up and under the Dane’s arm as Sven blocked the sword which was aimed at Bergil. The chief was badly wounded. More importantly he could not fight. The tip of the wedge was blunted and the Danes were forced to stop.
Brothers in Blood (Norman Genesis Book 7) Page 17