“Start to load ‘Fáfnir’ .”
We placed a gangplank so that the captives could climb aboard. Two men went first to watch them. It would be some time until ‘Fáfnir’ was refloated but we would be able to leave as soon as it did. My heart sank when I saw Arne and Sámr racing towards us. I picked up my shield and helmet for I knew what their speed meant.
“Jarl! Saxons! They have mounted men and they have raised the fyrd!”
Sven Blue Arm was not a man to dwell on misfortune and mistakes. “Those with mail, form a shield wall. Those with bows get aboard the drekar. You will shower death upon the Saxons.”
We had thirty men with mail. Not all had a byrnie such as I wore. More than half had just a mail vest. The ones in the second rank took spears. Arne and Sámr joined those without mail in the third rank. We had to hold off the Saxons until the drekar refloated.
Jarl Rognvald stood between Sven and myself. “Jarl, you should be aboard ‘Fáfnir’ . Your brother is at the helm of his drekar.”
“Sven Blue Arm, I will fight alongside you. Too often I have let you and Göngu-Hrólfr bear the brunt of the fighting. I am not too old to stand with my shield brothers and oathsworn.”
Then we saw them. They appeared on the skyline below the smoke from the burning monastery. They had twenty men on horses. None were mailed. There were, as far as I could see, just ten men with mail and they were on foot. But there were over a hundred other Saxons armed with a variety of weapons. They were the fyrd. They were warriors for the day and farmers for the year. I saw that the horsemen rode small horse little bigger than a pony and they did not use stiraps. That was the good news. The bad news was that we were outnumbered and ‘Fáfnir’ was yet to be totally refloated.
The Saxons just launched themselves as a horde. They poured down the hillside. The huts and the buildings meant that they had to come at us piecemeal but that meant our handful of archers and ships’ boys with slingshots had less opportunity to thin their ranks. The horsemen reached us first. I held my sword above my head. I brought it down as the first horseman, with spears outstretched, tried to skewer the jarl. My long sword hacked his horse’s head in two and the Saxon flew over the horse’s head. The Norns were spinning for his helmet encased head struck the jarl square in the face. As Sven ended a Saxon’s life the other Saxons saw their chance and they headed for the gap. Our shield wall was broken and so I did the only thing I could; I left the shield wall and stepped before it. I had to buy time to move the jarl to safety.
I slid my shield to my back and held my sword in two hands. I swung it in an arc before me. I knew that men were pulling the jarl to safety. Others were filling the gap. I had to stop their horsemen from reaching us. Our archers and slingers could do nothing about the mailed men and, as I started my swing, I saw their arrows and stones falling among the fyrd. I did not use a flat arc for my swing. I swung in two loops so that none would be able to approach. My blade tore into the throat of one horse and, as my sword rose it slashed into the shield of a Saxon. On the back swing it ripped into the arm of another Saxon and then into the head of a horse. Their lack of stiraps was their undoing. Our shield wall was repaired and their horses baulked. As riders were thrown they were butchered by our front rank.
“Göngu-Hrólfr, get back in line!”
I shook my head but did not turn. “I cannot swing in the shield wall. This is a good day to die!”
Bergil shouted, “Do not go berserk, Göngu-Hrólfr!”
I laughed, “Fear not little shield brother. It is the Saxons who will find it a good day to die.”
It was their mailed men who were advancing. They were the ones the Saxons called housecarls. Their thegn led them. He was as old as our jarl and his armour was made of overlapping metal plates. He looked like a fish.
Bergil banged his shield and started the 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
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 ten mailed men were backed by the fyrd but their numbers were diminishing even as they advanced. Sometimes a warrior needs to be reckless. I did not want to die. I wanted to see the Haugr and my grandfather again. To do so I had to get off the beach and the Saxons were in my way. I did what the Saxons did not expect. I stepped towards them. My long legs covered the ground quickly and I was swinging as I did so. This time there were no horses’ heads in the way. As I swung they brought up their shields. My sword smashed into a shield and knocked one man over. He stumbled into the man next to him.
Behind me I heard, “Break wall!” as my sword smashed into the helmet of a third Saxon. A sword, wielded by the thegn, was thrust at me. I turned but it still struck me. My mail was good but I felt the blade rasp through the links.
Bergil and my oar brothers fell upon the housecarls. The two who lay prostrate were butchered. I used the hilt to punch the thegn in the face. He reeled backwards. The Saxon next to him lunged at me but Sven Blue Arm blocked the blow with his own shield and I was able to swing my sword overhand. The thegn looked up and saw his own death as my long sword hit his helmet, splitting it in two and then slicing through his skull. As the last housecarl was killed the fyrd took to their heels and ran.
The warriors behind me cheered. There were none left to kill and no one wished to chase after men whose bodies would yield neither honour nor treasure.
Bergil came up to me, “That is worthy of a song, Rollo, my friend. That was the stuff of legend.”
Sven Blue Arm said, “You are making a habit of disobeying me, Göngu-Hrólfr!”
“I am sorry but I could think of nothing else.”
“One day you will try that and someone will have a longer sword!” Sven sheathed his sword and put his arm around me. “Come let us see how the jarl fares.”
Just then Beorn came to the prow and shouted, “Sven Blue Arm, the jarl is dead!” I watched as the drekar bobbed afloat and I swear I could hear a thread being cut. The Norns!
Chapter 14
When we looked at his body we saw no wound but I saw that the front of his helmet was dented. As Sven removed the helmet we saw that his skull had been crushed. The flying Saxon had killed our jarl. Any joy at our victory disappeared like early morning mist. We covered his body with his cloak and kept it by the steering board. Sven took the helm. Like the rest of us he was bereft of words. The jarl had died with his sword in his hand but it had not been a glorious death. The winds were with us and we did not need to row. I wanted to row. I wanted to exorcise the memory of his death. Instead we had to look at the cloak covered corpse. It made it worse.
Bergil and I were on the night watch. We did not stop for the dark. Olaf Two Teeth steered and Bergil and I watched.
“This means you are jarl now. You ware my uncle’s heir.”
I had avoided that thought. Nor was it true. I was his heir and that was something different. I did not want to be jarl. If I was jarl then I would not be able to go home. I shook my head. “Let us not talk of that. First, we have to bury him. Gefn will mourn. She has lost a son and a husband in a short time.”
He nodded, “And soon my uncle may be mourning the loss of his wife too. We have had great success since you joined us but it has been at a price.”
He was right and that sent my spirits even deeper into my seal skin boots. I had thought that being saved was a good thing but the clan I had joined was paying the weregeld for that salvation. We made it back in two days. Perhaps the Allfather took pity on us. We arrived back at dusk as the sun was setting over the western waters.
I had been adopted by the jarl and so I took on the responsibility of telling Gefn of her husband’s death. While his oathsworn carried his body, I preceded them. “Mother, your husband is dead. He died i
n battle.”
She took it better than I had hoped. She closed her eyes and mouthed something then she opened them and smiled. It was a sad smile. It was the smile of regret. She reached up and hugged me, “He was never the same after our son died. You brought a little light into his life. He will be pleased that the clan is in your hands.”
I said nothing. The Norns would decide my fate. I knew that as certain as I knew the sun would come up each morning.
Gefn and the other women of the family prepared the jarl’s body. Only Gertha was absent. He was laid out in his mail which we burnished. He had his sword in his hand, his helmet on his head and his shield on his chest. He was laid on the table in his hall. He would be buried the next evening at sunset. His passage to the Otherworld was not the same ritual as that practised by the Clan of the Horse. They still used a burning ship to take a jarl to the Otherworld. I had not known it but he had had his burial ship made when he had returned from the raid where he lost his son. It was a miniature version of ‘Fáfnir’ . A shipwright had built it on the beach where we had repaired our drekar. The whole clan came to see him off. The warriors wore their mail and their helmets. They carried their shields on their backs. The women had their hair braided and wore their best. We waited until the sun began to dip at the mouth of the fjord.
His body was laid in the bottom. Gefn positioned his hands about his sword and then kissed his lips. His helmet hid the horrific wound which had killed him. I had the honour of loosing the sail and releasing the mooring lines. I lowered the sail and the lithe little vessel tugged at the mooring ropes. I released one and it began to drift away. As I released the second, Bjorn, his brother, Bergljót, his sister and Gefn, his wife threw the burning brands into the kindling filled boat. The wind caught her and she seemed to leap towards the west. The flames licked around the bottom of the mast and then flickered up the sail where they caught. By then the tiny drekar was well down the fjord. We saw her silhouetted against the sunset and then, as the sun disappeared, the glow of the burning boat sank beneath the waves. The jarl was dead.
We retired to his hall. We left our helmets and shields outside. It was just the family. Sven Blue Arm was the war chief. This was not his jurisdiction. Gefn had had food prepared. We sat around the table, picked at the food and then toasted the jarl. Gertha Eysteinsson barely made it through the toasts. She began to cough and Gefn had her servants take her home. Her husband barely acknowledged her departure. I saw the displeasure on the faces of the two women. Jarl Rognvald would not have acted in the same way.
Bjorn Eysteinsson stood. “Now we come to the legacy my brother leaves.” He smiled, “Gefn, the hall remains with you. It is your home for as long as you shall live.”
Bergil stood, “Uncle, what is this? You talk as though it is your right to give away my uncle’s goods. You are not the heir of the jarl. His heir is Göngu-Hrólfr.”
“That is where you are wrong. I am jarl of this clan by right of blood.” He turned to me, “My crew and many of the crew of ‘Fáfnir’ support me as jarl. If you fight me then there will be much blood spilled. My brother would not have wished that.”
“And I do not wish that either.” He smiled. He thought he had won. I would leave the clan. We had planned on going to the island of Hibernian to trade. I would ask to leave the drekar there.
Suddenly Gefn stood. Her face was cold with anger and her voice, when she spoke, showed her scorn for her husband’s brother. “You, Bjorn Eysteinsson, threaten to destroy the clan and yet my son does not. He has more right to be jarl that you have.” He shrugged and drank some more ale. I saw a cold smile appear on Gefn’s face. “This hall is not yours to give or take at your whim. It was my husband’s. You know the law of our clan. The title of jarl may be stolen by you but you cannot steal my home.”
He spread his arms, “I told you that you can keep the hall!”
“And what would you when I am dead? You would take it.” She turned to Bergil, “Go and fetch Sven Blue Arm. Tell him the wife of the jarl needs him!”
Bergil left eagerly. Bjorn shook his head, “He is war chief and has nothing to do with this.”
“True but I do not send for him as a war chief. I send for him as a witness.”
Bjorn turned and stared at me. I saw his hands bunch. If this came to a fight between the two of us then I would win but if it spilled into the clan I would leave for I would not tear apart this clan. Sven arrived and I saw, from his face that Bergil had told him all.
Gefn said, “Sven Blue Arm. Were you present when my husband made Göngu-Hrólfr his heir?”
“I was.”
“Bjorn Eysteinsson claims the title of jarl.”
I could see Sven choosing his words carefully. He nodded, “But Jarl Rognvald intended Göngu-Hrólfr to be his successor.”
Bjorn turned and almost spat the words at Sven Blue Arm, “Mercenary, I have more than half of the clan on my side. Would you make war on me?”
Sven laughed, “If I did then you would lose.”
I stood, “Stop. I do not wish to be jarl. I will not have this clan destroyed by me.”
Gefn smiled although tears coursed down her cheeks, “And that one statement shows that you are the true successor to my husband. Göngu-Hrólfr, my adopted son, this hall is yours, my husband’s treasure is yours and,” she stared at Bjorn Eysteinsson, “‘Fáfnir’ is yours. They are not Bjorn Eysteinsson’s to give. They are mine as wife of the jarl.”
Bjorn stood. “Then have the drekar but you will not find a crew to sail it!”
“We shall see.” Sven’s voice cut through the silence. Bjorn stormed off.
Bergljót said, “It is that whore Ailsa. She has him twisted around her finger. Since she came and he bedded her he is not the same man. She has turned his head.”
Gefn said, “No, my husband believed that there was a bad seed in him. It is why he named Göngu-Hrólfr as his heir. He did not trust the clan to his brother. I fear this means the end of the clan.”
Sven and Bergil sat and talked with me long into the night. Sven told me much that I did not know. We would speak to the clan the next day. The Norns were spinning. When we rose, we discovered that Gertha had died in the night. Many said it was the sickness but Gefn did not believe it. She thought it was something more sinister. Nothing could be proven. Out of respect for her we did not speak with the clan that day, as we had planned, but soon all knew of the rift and men chose sides. I kept apart. I would not be the one who destroyed this clan. The delay went on for Bjorn Eysteinsson married Ailsa and it soon became apparent that she was with child.
The day after their wedding Sven Blue Arm took it upon himself to blow the horn at the top of the tower so that the whole clan came to see what was happening. I saw that Bjorn was less than happy with Sven’s actions but Gefn and Bergljót were with him and they were still the matriarchs of the clan.
Sven said, “Bjorn Eysteinsson has declared himself jarl of this clan. Göngu-Hrólfr was chosen as heir by Jarl Rognvald.” People turned and spoke to their neighbours about this. It had been gossip but with the funerals and the wedding nothing had been confirmed. “Göngu-Hrólfr does not want war and he accepts that Bjorn Eysteinsson is jarl of this clan.” There was another buzz of conversation. He then unleashed his thunderclap. “However, Göngu-Hrólfr does not wish to serve this jarl. Nor do I.”
Bergil, Sámr and Arne stepped forwards as one. They all said, “Nor do I!”
Bjorn’s face was red and angry.
Gefn said, “Göngu-Hrólfr is master of the hall and master of ‘Fáfnir’ .”
There was uproar. I had been seated on a barrel. That was as small as I ever managed. I stood and silence fell. “I will not fight the clan but any warriors who wish to follow me are welcome to an oar on my drekar, ‘Fáfnir’ .”
The result shocked even me. Forty men chose to follow me. Bjorn was defeated. More than half the warriors chose to follow me. The numbers he thought would support him were not there. There would be no
war but I knew there might be treachery.
Matters came to a head months later at Haustmánuður when Jarl Halfgrimr Halfdansson arrived to ask us to take part in a winter war against Sogn. He made the mistake of addressing me. I shook my head, “Bjorn Eysteinsson is jarl. He did not honour his brother’s wishes. I am not part of this clan.”
Halfgrimr turned to Bjorn. “But the tribe acknowledged Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson as the next jarl.”
“Well he is not and I am!” Bjorn sounded petulant.
“Then I must ask you to come with me to swear allegiance to the leader of our tribe.”
Bjorn had no choice. He had to agree. He and his crew left the next morning.
Gefn and Bergljót had been talking, behind my back, with Sven Blue Arm. As ‘Dellingr’ sailed down the fjord in the wake of Jarl Halfgrimr’s drekar Sven said, “And now we must sail to Hibernia. We have holy books and captives to sell. And you need the coin to buy another drekar and crew.”
“What?”
“Your mother knows that you wish to return to the Land of the Horse. She and Bergil’s mother are happy for you to do that. You cannot return to fight your brother with just one drekar. We have your father’s treasure. Come. We must tell the crew.”
I felt as though I was in a maelstrom! I no longer controlled my own life. Events were happening too quickly for me to comprehend. I just went along with the plans which had been hatched behind my back. Those who supported Bjorn Eysteinsson had sailed with him. Those who supported me prepared my drekar and those either too timid or too careful stayed to protect our hall.
I stood on the jetty and said, “We sail to trade our goods in Hibernia. Know that the profit we make will be returned here and shared out amongst the whole clan: my crew, those who stay behind to watch our homes and the crew of the ‘Dellingr’ .” I saw the two matriarchs nod their approval.
Brothers in Blood (Norman Genesis Book 7) Page 22