“Do not question my cousin’s honesty.”
His brother said, “I cannot see what we have to lose, Sven Blue Arm. If the Saxons are north of the Tyne and the Danes raid further south then who is there to stop us?” He cast a sideways glance at me, “Besides, we have this mighty hero now! Who can stand against us?”
The words seemed sarcastic. Bjorn had been drinking and his wife was ill. I dismissed his words. It was a mistake.
The jarl was still ill at ease. The death of his son had affected him. It was one thing to raid the Picts but the Saxons were a different matter. They had strong walls and mailed men, “That is the trouble, I cannot see and that worries me. Göngu-Hrólfr, you have a clever mind; what say you?”
I did not lie but I did not look at it as objectively as I might. I wanted to go home. I needed the treasure which Northumbria would yield. I took the easier route, “Like you, Sven, I cannot see how this can hurt us but, perhaps, if we take it slowly and scout out somewhere that is rich we might end up wealthy and not lose too many men.”
He smiled, “You are right. What was that place he mentioned? The one with an abbey.”
I had been listening when the jarl had told us of the land of Northumbria, “Streanæshalc. It is south of the river called the Dunum. My grandfather told me of the river.”
We all looked at the jarl. He nodded, “Then we are in agreement. We raid Streanæshalc.”
The Norns were spinning and threads were about to be cut.
My mail was ready. Bergil’s mother had made me a padded kyrtle to wear beneath it. This one was not like the one I had left in the ocean. This one went to below my knees. The smith had riveted the rings. It had taken longer but it was stronger. Sven gave me the idea of putting straighteners in my seal skin boots at the front. They were simple, thin pieces of pine wood but they were effective. They would not stop an axe but a thrust from a spear of a slash from a sword was less likely to penetrate. What I did not have was a mail hood but as my helmet came down below my ears, then I was well protected. As Bergil pointed out, there were few warriors who could reach high enough to get at my neck. My legs were more vulnerable.
Bergil had spent more time with one slave girl than preparing for war. I realised early on that she had decided that it would be better to be the wife of a Viking rather than a slave and, seven days before we sailed, he told his mother of his plans to marry. I could see that she was disappointed. The girl, although pretty, had a sly look about her. She had manipulated Bergil. His mother would have preferred a Norse girl but they were homelier. I could see the attraction in the Cornovi girl. The result was that I had to chivvy him up to prepare for the voyage. Our positions had changed, subtly since I had been plucked from the waters of the Tamese estuary. He now acknowledged me as his superior. I was the jarl’s adopted son and I had won great glory and respect in war.
We left at Sólmánuður. Even in Northumbria the nights were short. We would have to time our raid well for they had watch towers along the coast. The Saxon king might be a shadow of the former rulers but there would still be Saxon warriors who would protect their church and their land from Viking raiders. We were fully crewed and so I shared my oar with Bergil. Sámr and Arne were considered part of my band. We generally drank together and got on well with each other. Sven put the four of us on the same side of the drekar.
We talked as we rowed across the sea. This time we were heading south and it was getting warmer. The three of them all had a slave girl and I had none. They began questioning me about that. “I thought you and that princess would have made good children.”
How do you come to that conclusion, Sámr?”
“You are so tall and she had fine hips and breasts. Your children would have made good warriors or perfect mothers.”
“I take it that you have been busy trying to make children.”
Arne had laughed, “Of course! A warrior needs children. A man who just has one risks losing him.”
He suddenly realised what he had said. The jarl, his brother and his sister had each only had one child and now Bergil was the sole survivor. We were silent. I changed the subject. “Have any of you fought Saxons before?”
“No. What are they like?”
“They are similar to us. They use swords, axes and shields. They have mail and good helmets. They fight in shield walls. There the similarity ends. They sometimes ride horses to war and I have heard of some who fight on horseback. However, they have no archers and their shields are smaller. Their biggest weakness cannot be seen.”
“Why not?”
“Because, Bergil, it is inside them. They are Christians. They do not believe in Valhalla. Our warriors fight to the death knowing that death is just the passage from this world to the next. They believe that they have to be without sin to get into heaven. What man is without sin?”
They laughed, “Then this will be as easy as the raid on the Picts!”
The jarl took us towards the coast of Northumbria and then we sailed down it. I saw the watch towers flame and flare as we passed their Holy Island and their castle of Bebbanburgh. They would be worried that we were going to attack them. We had many leagues to travel. It was coming on to dark as we approached the sands of the Dunum where the seals basked. We had passed three villages and their beacons burned. It did not affect our plans. These lights were north of the Dunum and we were going south. We dropped a sea anchor in the estuary. I could see that the marshland around us would prevent any from getting close to us. Sven had decided to wait at this estuary until dark and then sail the last part of the journey at night. There was a village upstream, we had heard. They might think we were going to raid that one.
A party of warriors slipped over the side and slaughtered half a dozen seals. We ate them as we waited for darkness to surround us. We donned our mail as we ate and while we waited. We had been told that the monastery stood on a high cliff above the fishing village of Streanæshalc. We had been told that there were twenty huts and no warrior hall. It all seemed easy, perhaps it was, too easy. As we spoke of the raid none of us could see where the problem might lie. There would be slaves and treasure. Monks and nuns did not fight. There was no stronghold.
The jarl stood with me, “I am worried about my brother. I think that he is paying more attention to Ailsa than Gertha. It is not right. Nor do I like some of the comments he has been making about you. You are my heir! I thought he agreed with that but lately…”
I smiled, “Father, you are still jarl. You are still hale and hearty! There is little chance of me becoming jarl. Besides I am too young yet.”
“And you still wish to go to the land of the Horse.” He smiled, “I know that. Fear not, my son, you have my blessing.”
“Thank you. It means much to me that I can be honest with you. Do not worry about your brother. He will tire of the girl eventually and return to his wife.”
The jarl shook his head, “My wife has spoken with the volvas. Gertha is close to the Otherworld. She may not be there when we return. If it were me I would not have left. I did not say goodbye to my son. I would wish to say farewell to my wife. My brother seems unconcerned. We share the same blood but lately I do not understand him.”
I said, with feeling, “I know what you mean.”
Once night fell we rowed. When we were clear of the pull of the river then we used the sail. I prepared myself for the raid. The last two had been relatively simple. The Cornovi had been poor warriors and the Danes were not expecting us. Vikings had been raiding this coast for almost eighty summers. The Saxons would be expecting us. They would have plans in place. The fyrd would be ready with their weapons to respond to the summons of a beacon or a bell. I stood on the steer board side and watched the land slip by. It was night but you could still see the beaches and the bays. There were five bays we passed before we reached Streanæshalc. I stored that information.
Arne had asked me how the jarl would know when we had reached our destination. I had smiled, as we had eaten our seal
, “Simple. We look for a high cliff and we listen for a bell. If the wind is right, and that I doubt, then we could smell their incense and their candles.”
I had not brought my bow. I would have had the only one. I did not think that the jarl had enough archers but this was not my drekar yet. The sounds we heard were the creaking of the stays and sheets and the water surging beneath our bow. Then we heard the sound of breakers on rocks. We were close to shore. I cocked an ear. I could hear the tolling of a bell. The monks were being called to prayers. I hurried to the steering board. “We are close. I can hear the bell.”
Beorn was at the mast head. He suddenly slithered down the forestay. “Jarl, the entrance to the river is coming up!”
The jarl began to put the steering board over and said, “Beorn, get the crew to reef the sail.”
“Aye jarl.”
“Sven Blue Arm have the men ready on the larboard side!”
“Aye jarl!”
“Bergil, go and signal your uncle to turn!”
Bergil ran down the centre of the ship with the hooded lantern in his hand. It was his task to let the second drekar know our movement.
I had my helmet hanging from my sword. I knew that I was the only one who could wear such a long sword from his waist. The Dane I had taken it from had a scabbard he wore over his back. My shield had been taken from the side and was now across my back. I had added a seax to the inside of my shield. I now had three weapons as well as my sword. The jarl had been sailing longer than I had been alive and he put the steering board over perfectly. We slid into the middle of the channel. We had learned they called this river the Esk. It was very narrow! I saw lights glowing above us. That had to be the monastery. There was neither jetty nor quay. We would have to land on the beach. The beach was tiny and there were savage rocks at the southern end of it. We would have to land the two ships prow on. It was pitch black and we would be reliant on the sharp eyes of the ship’s boys. Sven hurried down to the prow as the jarl turned the steering board to head in to the beach.
Sven shouted, “Hold!” But it was too late. I heard the crunch and crack as our bow rode over a beached fishing boat. Beorn had not given us any warning. It was too late for us but not for the other drekar. The jarl shouted to them and they stopped. We would use our drekar as a bridge. Sven disappeared over the prow and we all followed him. As we landed, men ran from their huts above us. The alarm was raised. Sven was decisive and, without waiting for the rest to disembark, he led the ten of us who had followed him quickly, across the sand towards the Saxons.
He swung his sword into the middle of the Saxon with the axe. I saw a second lunge at him with his spear. I jerked my shield arm out and the spear hit my shield. I was travelling too quickly to bring my sword around and it was my mailed body which hit the man. He fell to the sand and I was able to skewer him there. Bergil, Sámr and Arne were with us and we quickly despatched the Saxon men. The men who had been killed had bought time for their families who now fled up the cobbled track which led to the church and monastery at the top of the cliff.
A bell tolled urgently above us. The monks knew we were coming. Sven turned, “Move, you lazy whoresons! Are we to do all the work?”
I had never seen such a steep track. Normally they twisted and turned but this one went directly up. Some of the older folk were ahead of us and they screamed as we approached. We ignored them. The monastery was the prize. As had happened before, the ten of us outpaced the rest of the warband. I kept pace with Sven Blue Arm rather than opening my legs and reaching the monastery first.
When we reached the top, I saw that there were a number of buildings. There was the church. It was a huge wooden one. There were two halls. I later learned that one housed the monks and one housed the nuns. There were three other smaller halls. It was the church which would yield us the greatest treasure. Someone had gone inside and barred the door. As other warriors arrived Sven sent them to gain entry to the other buildings. He turned to me and grinned, his teeth white in the moonlight. “Göngu-Hrólfr, put your shield before you. The rest let us make a wedge behind our human ram!” Sven led me twenty paces from the door.
As they formed behind me I heard Bergil begin to chant.
Hrólfr the giant two men tall
Hrólfr the giant broad as a wall
Hrólfr the giant leads the clan
Hrólfr the giant I am your man
The rest joined in and it helped to get the rhythm.
Hrólfr the giant two men tall
Hrólfr the giant broad as a wall
Hrólfr the giant leads the clan
Hrólfr the giant I am your man
“Now!”
I stepped off on my sword foot and we ran at the door. I held my shield before me. Sven and Rurik held their shields in my back. We hit the door hard. I heard a loud crack as the bar broke and the doors flew open. It was so sudden that I almost lost my balance. A monk stood waiting for me and he lunged at me with his spear. It hit me but the monk was no warrior. Our smith’s skill showed for the mail held. I saw the monk’s eyes widen and then his life ended as Sven took his head with one mighty blow. The candlelit church was filled with monks and nuns. As we ran towards them they fled for the two doors at the other end of the church.
One or two tonsured monks turned to try to fight us. We slew them. Others fell in the doorway and they were killed too. The nuns were spared. They would make slaves but the monks and priests who remained were slaughtered. It was not long until dawn and when the sun did rise from the east we had the monastery in our hands. We had great quantities of treasure. It was fortunate that I was on hand for some of the others were all for burning what they saw as books of Christian magic.
“Hold, these books are worth much gold and silver. We can sell them.”
Sven Blue Arm gave me a quizzical look, “Where?”
I pointed west. “Hibernia. There are Vikings at Dyflin, Veðrafjǫrðr and Veisafjǫrðr. There is a market there and one for slaves.”
He grinned, “Once again we are grateful to you. We might have wasted that which is valuable.” He turned to some of Bjorn’s crew, “Take them down to the drekar.”
Once we were outside we saw that the jarl and his brother had emptied the two halls. I saw Bjorn waving the brand. Already flames were licking at the buildings. I frowned, “That is a mistake, Sven Blue Arm! You might as well ring a giant bell and tell the whole of this land that Vikings are raiding.”
“You worry too much, Göngu-Hrólfr. We will be long gone before any help can come to these priests.”
As if to confirm the view flames raced up the church. That had been fired too. The clan was leaving its mark but I heard the Norns spinning. I alone trudged silently down the hill to the ships filled with foreboding. The others were in high spirits.
My fears were realised when we reached the beach. ‘Fáfnir’ was down by the bows. The tide was on the ebb and the two drekar had been pulled into the river. The fishing boat had sprung some strakes. The ships’ boys were looking helplessly at it.
The jarl reacted first. “Drop the treasures get ropes and pull her on to the beach!” We all obeyed instantly. We could not sail home on our treasure. With two crews pulling we soon had the drekar on the wet sand. The wreckage of the fishing boat could be seen drifting out to sea. The jarl and his brother went to examine the hull. I fingered my horse amulet. Behind me a pall of smoke rose in the sky. That and the ones who had escaped us would now bring the wrath of the Saxons upon us. Danes had taken their land. Our destruction would be their vengeance.
“Beorn get aboard and fetch the pine tar.”
“Aye jarl!”
“Erik, there must be sheepskins in the huts. Find one.”
“Aye jarl.”
“Get the water out of the drekar. We can save her but we must work quickly.”
Bjorn Eysteinsson climbed aboard ‘Fáfnir’ . He waved to his crew, “Six of you come with me. We will pull our drekar on to the sand. The rest of you move those
fishing boats! We will not risk my ship too!”
We all raced to the boats and pulled them high up the beach. Jarl Rognvald shouted, “Fire them! We need a fire to make the pine tar liquid.”
This time I understood the need for the fire. By the time ‘Dellingr’ had been drawn up on the beach the fire was going and we had our wool and pine tar. The ships’ boys were given the task of teasing out the wool and taking it to the jarl. He knew his ship. He packed it along the sprung strakes. At the same time, we began to load ‘Dellingr’ . We were all working quickly. The tide was still on its way out. We had the chance to repair the sprung strakes and give the pine tar and wool time to set.
Sven Blue Arm pointed to the west, “Arne and Sámr, get yourselves up there on the ridge and keep a watch for Saxons.”
They nodded and ran off. Sámr was keen to get back into Sven’s good graces. I was tempted to take off my mail, as I toiled carrying supplies to the ‘Dellingr’ . The monks and nuns had been well supplied. We had grain which would last us many months. We also had wine, vegetables and other foods which they had produced at the monastery. There was fresh bread, cheese and butter. Even without the items from the church the raid would have been worthwhile. We had twenty captives. There were twelve nuns and the rest were young women who looked like they had child bearing hips. I kept my mail on and endured the sweat.
When the tide was fully out and ‘Fáfnir’ lay canted at a strange angle the jarl finished applying the tar and the wool. He had used our entire supply of it but the damaged section was well coated and the gaps filled with teased, oiled wool.
He nodded and glared at Beorn, “You have let down the clan, Beorn. We could have been heading home.”
“I am sorry, jarl.”
“You are just lucky that we did not lose any men as a result.”
I clutched my amulet as the jarl spoke. I saw Sven do the same. You did not speak of luck until you were safe in your hall. Then you toasted the Norns and you spoke of luck. Here, it just antagonised those three sisters. The tide had just begun to turn and the stern of the drekar floated in the river when the jarl and his brother walked along the strakes which had been repaired. I saw him run his finger along the repair. He seemed satisfied. The remaining captives stood forlornly huddled around the nuns.
Brothers in Blood (Norman Genesis Book 7) Page 21