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Varangian

Page 8

by Griff Hosker


  I heard voices which seemed from far off and I wondered where I was. I recognised Ridley’s voice and that of Jarl Gunnersson. They were talking about me, unaware that I could hear their words. “He has always been loyal to those who served him. When his people were killed at Topcliffe he went into their stronghold to wreak revenge. He believes that he has a responsibility to his men.”

  “But he pays them does he not? They will share in the profits? Why risk his life for them?”

  “He has always been that way and I cannot see him changing.”

  “It has brought him to death’s door and for what? A lame servant who cannot speak and will be of little use for the rest of the voyage.”

  Ridley was right of course I did make gestures I need not. I had forgotten about Thomas and Sarah but I knew that I would do it again. It was comfortable lying there in the dark but I knew that I had to make an effort and I opened my weary eyes and tried to pull myself up.

  “Ah the sleeping beauty awakes! We thought we had lost you old friend.”

  I took Ridley’s proffered arm. “How long did I sleep?”

  “A day and a half and you have awoken at the right time for we have another portage.”

  “And the Pechengs?”

  “They have left us alone.”

  I nodded, that was what I had hoped as I had lain dreaming the strange dreams of near death. “And Ragnar?”

  “His leg is healing but he will be of little use hauling the boat.” I sensed the anger in Gunnar’s voice.

  “And yet, Captain, had Ragnar not fought off the Pechengs you might have had no boat to haul.”

  He had no argument against that. “Well this is the last portage and our last area of concern until we reach the ford of Var.”

  “The Ford of Var?”

  “It is quite close to St George Island where we become a sailing ship again, The Pecheng like to attack there for they can close with the boat and the narrow channel makes us move slower than we would like.”

  “How far?”

  “Two days.”

  “Then Ridley and I have two days to think of a way to beat these Pechengs.”

  Ridley put a protective arm around me and said, quietly in my ear, “We thought we had lost you. You were exhausted and were barely breathing. Do not do that to me again old friend.”

  “He was heavier than I thought.” I attempted to lift my arms up but I could not move them beyond my shoulders. I would not be wielding an axe for a while! They had erected a shelter for me and as I emerged into the thin sunlight there was a huge cheer from my men and the crew as they saw me. Ragnar was sat by the rail and tried to get up. I hurried over to him. “No, stay there you have a wound.”

  He grabbed my hand and kissed it. He mouthed the words, ‘Thank you.’ And placed his hand over his heart and then pointed at me.

  Eric rose and came to me. “Thank you my lord. I have never heard of a lord risking his life for a servant before.”

  I shook my head. “We are one company. If one is hurt then I am hurt. Enough of me and my troubles. We will have to fend off the Pechengs again in two days time and this time they will be much closer and I know from bitter experience that their arrows are dangerous. We need to make oblong shields, the size of a man. They need not be polished and finished but they should be thick enough to absorb the arrows.”

  Stig nodded and asked, “That is your plan my lord, to hide behind the shields until we are beyond them?”

  “No Stig for we must also stop them closing with the ship and boarding. The shields are to protect us while we shoot arrows at them and throw spears.”

  “We have few spears my lord.”

  “I know Olaf but we can cut saplings at the next portage and use the daggers we took from the Pechengs. We need to kill, not the Pechengs but their mounts and even a badly made spear thrown by a poor shot can still hit a large target like a man and a pony.”

  They looked satisfied and I saw nods from the experienced river men like Pig and Harold. Ragnar slapped the deck and when I looked at him pointed at himself, miming shooting a bow. “Yes Ragnar, you can have your revenge and you can sit at the bow and kill our enemies!”

  Ragnar had to stay aboard as we dragged the boat over the last portage close to the rapids. We kept Snorri and Eric as scouts to watch for the Pechengs but I agreed with the captain, they had learned their lesson and would wait until we wallowed like whale at the fords where they could surround us and bring their numbers to bear. While the ship was prepared for the voyage I took the men to cut down trees and saplings to fashion the shields and the spears. We split the logs into rough lengths by the river and then hammered them into shape on the ship. They were crudely made but each one was three fingers thick. We laid them next to the rail, which ran the length of the boat, out of sight. They would be raised when the Pechengs were in confident archer range. We found five daggers which we fixed to the saplings and then Eric had the idea of tying arrows to the other ten. They were crude spears but needs must when danger threatens.

  The rowers all pulled even harder as we made our way down the last part of the river for once we reached St George Island their rowing days would be numbered and the sooner we got there the sooner we would be free of the threat of the Pechengs.

  I had worked on recovering my mobility for I would need to be able to use my shoulders to fight the Pechengs. I worried at first that I had irrevocably damaged my shoulders but Eric displayed a skill hitherto unknown to us. His mother had taught him how to massage and he used some oil we discovered on board to soothe the pain in my shoulders. Within a day I could raise my arms and within two I felt that I was back to normal.

  “That is a skill Eric. Why did you not tell us of it?”

  He looked shamefaced. “My brothers mocked me, telling me that I was a girl going a girl’s job.”

  Stig summed it up, “I have never met them, but your brothers sound like dick heads to me.” He was probably right but two of Eric’s brothers became Kings in Denmark- the fact that their rule was short lived and unsuccessful perhaps reflected their narrow minds. The men laughed and Snorri wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders. The desertion by Ulf and Snorri’s arrival had made us a much more tightly knit company and I felt now as I had in England, when fighting with my men of the Red Horse Company.

  The Fords of Var came after a very wide section of river. It was shallow but our ship had no problem navigating its churning waters. Then the cliffs rose steeply and the river narrowed but still remained shallow. It split into a number of different courses most of which were shallow enough for horses. As we made our way south we saw the Pecheng horsemen gathering like the vultures we had seen on the plain, swarming to devour the dying beasts. They looked like a horde of deadly flies and they watched, from both banks to see which channel we took. The channels were so narrow that even the deeper ones could be swum by the powerful Pecheng ponies.

  Jarl Gunnersson pointed to them. “There is your enemy Thegn and we are in your hands now.”

  We had armed as many of the spare crew as we could but we knew it would come down to the ten of us, five on each side of the boat. Ridley had four on the eastern side of the boat and I had the rest to the west. We had been armed and ready since dawn and we now waited for the moment I would order the shields to be raised. The closer we came to the fords the more certain our enemies were of our selected channel and they began to congregate. I estimated that there were almost a hundred on my side and perhaps sixty on the other. They meant business. They were spread out in a semi circle, obviously intending to attack us from all sides. I hoped that the shields would protect the rowers but, if they fired directly into the air then the plunging arrows could cause devastation. “Be ready to pass your own shields to the rowers if they target them.” I walked to the stern and handed my shield to Gunnar. “You may need this captain; I suspect they will try to harm you.”

  I noticed, for the first time that he had put on a mail shirt and wore his sword. He grinne
d. “It is not the first time I have faced arrows and an enemy who wished to end my life. Look to yourself Aelfraed.”

  I wondered, as I returned to my post, how he had come to be a river captain for he looked to me like a warrior and he spoke knowledgeably of weapons and warriors. I had no time for speculation as we were now close to the Pechengs and they launched their attacks, riding hard and low towards our side. I had to judge the moment to raise our shields for too soon and they would withdraw. I needed them committed to the charge so that we could begin to whittle them down with our bows and spears. With only ten men the most that we could hope to take was eight or nine and we could afford no casualties. When they were forty paces from the side I saw the leading riders pull back their bows. “Shields!”

  We all grabbed a shield and jammed it into position. The ones at the end had two shields to erect and we heard the thud as the arrows hit the defences. We had no time to congratulate ourselves on our defence for we needed to kill and kill quickly. I was not the greatest archer but at thirty paces even I could not miss a pony and I shot arrow after arrow at the mass of men who hurled themselves at the ship. Despite the rower’s efforts we were moving slowly as Gunnar and Siggi, who was standing at the prow, negotiated the twisting waters. The squealing of the dying ponies and the screams of wounded warriors filled the air. I saw a hand appear towards the stern and I dropped my bow and grabbed my axe. I sliced down and the fingers spurted blood as they were severed. The screaming warrior fell to the water but his place was taken by others who had closed with the ship. “Eric, Ragnar, keep loosing arrows. The rest of you! Swords!”

  With only three of us to defend the side it was inevitable that they would make the deck. I was just glad that they had not tried plunging arrows for that would have been disastrous. I hacked at another arm which grabbed the rail and then saw a Pecheng racing aft to Gunnar. I ran behind him and Death Bringer split his skull like a ripe plum. Gunnar nodded and said, “Behind you!”

  I swung my axe in a circle and decapitated a surprised Pecheng who had though to strike me in the back with a wicked looking curved sword. An arrow flew over my shoulder and I turned to see another Pecheng fall overboard with one or Ragnar’s arrows in his throat. Two approached me with their blades ready but Death Bringer and my long arms meant that I had a longer reach and they stumbled backwards away from the scythe of death. One fell and I hacked into his chest. The other tried to stab me but I grabbed his blade in my mailed hand, pulled him towards me and head butted him over the side. I suddenly sensed that we were moving quicker and there were fewer Pechengs. I glanced aft and Gunnar waved to me but there were two dead bodies close to him, one without a head and the other with an arrow in his back. I looked over the side and saw two Pechengs, their feet on the oars as they tried to climb aboard. I swung Death Bringer one handed and took one warrior full in the face. That was too much for his companion who threw himself in the waters and then we were through. The decks were a river of blood but they had not stopped us and, as the river widened I looked in our wake to see the remains of the warband waving their weapons in the air. The Maiden remained intact; the Pechengs had not soiled her.

  I looked down the side and saw Snorri, Eric and Ragnar’s smiling faces but Olaf lay between Snorri and me. I ran to him. He had three arrows in his back but his head had been severed so that it hung only by his coif. Around him lay five dead Pechengs; his sword, bright with blood still in his hand. He would go to Valhalla and join his old comrades. I looked to the other side and saw Ridley. He grinned at me. There was blood on him but, knowing Ridley, that would be Pecheng blood. Stig and Hammer were busy pitching bodies over the side while Harald was binding a wound. Pig lay in an ungainly heap as with Olaf, surrounded by his foes but dead nonetheless. The rowers had not emerged unscathed and four of them lay dead with arrows in their necks as was Siggi who, like Gunnar had been the target of attacks at the vulnerable prow of the ship. We had won but it had been an expensive victory. A third of my men lay dead.

  We hove to at St. George Island. There we were safe and we could see to our wounds and our dead. St. George Island is a bare place but there was enough wood to provide kindling and we made biers from the huge shields which had served their purpose. We laid the warriors together, with their weapons atop a bier and, after we had sent Siggi and the rowers to the next world we said goodbye to our friends. They had fulfilled their oath and died well. Gunnar told me that Olaf had died protecting my back; an action which cost him his own life. After the flames had consumed them and there was just Gunnar and my men left I asked, “Did the Pig and Olaf have family?”

  “I do not think so Aelfraed. Why do you ask?”

  “I would send their share of the profits to their families.”

  Gunnar and my men looked at me as though I had spoken Chinese. “When a man dies it just means more profit for the leader. You have the profit Aelfraed.”

  I shook my head and looked at Eric. “When we reach Miklagård and the accounts are done then share the money due Pig and Olaf between the rest of you. Ridley and I came here not for profit but to fight the Norman.”

  Eric looked stunned. “But your profit my lord, what of that?”

  “I told you, I take no profit from this voyage. You will all share what was due me.” Ridley nodded and we clasped arms. What did we need with coin we both had enough waiting with the Jews of Miklagård. These warriors had shown me loyalty which I would reward.

  With the mast stepped and the oars shipped we sailed swiftly down the Dnieper towards the Black Sea. We saw many Pechengs as we sailed swiftly south but they were always in the distance, watching for us to make a mistake or fall foul of the river but Jarl Gunnersson was too wily a sailor for that. I spent some time with him in the weeks which followed the battle for I was intrigued and I spoke with him often. “You were a warrior Gunnar.”

  He nodded, “Aye.” He looked at me shrewdly. “I fought alongside my father until the day I was wounded.” He rolled up his sleeve to show me a savage scar on his right arm. “I did not sail with him when he went to his last battle.” He paused to gauge my reaction, “At Stamford Bridge.”

  “Ah, I see now, the Norns.”

  “As you say. When I first met you I knew that you had fought at my father’s last fight.”

  “I do not remember him.”

  “I do not think you fought him for I knew that you fought against Hadrada and the survivors of my father’s band told me that they were not near Harold.”

  “I am sorry.”

  He shrugged, “He was a warrior and he died a warrior’s death but you Aelfraed the Housecarl, you interested me for my father’s men spoke of you and your deeds and I expected a boastful warrior full of fight, or as my father would have said, piss and vinegar and I was ready to despise you but the more I saw of you the more intrigued I became and you have surprised me the whole way south.”

  “You did not fight because of your father then?”

  “All of my friends died with him. The warriors, who returned, like Siggi, chose a more peaceful life for the best of the warriors died with Harold that day. You, my friend, are the exception. You and Ridley are the last warriors.”

  The voyage around the Black Sea seemed like an anti climax after the trials and tribulations of the river. Ragnar began to walk aided by a pair of sticks fashioned by Snorri who showed great skills with wood. My talk with the captain had set me thinking. I had had no idea of his feelings and wondered how many other times I had taken things for granted. At night, after we had eaten we sat and spoke of the battles along the river and thought of Pig and Olaf for that is warriors do; they remember their comrades by talking of their deaths knowing that, when they die they too will be remembered in a tale. Eric composed a song of the two men and he showed a real skill for he put in Pig’s humour and his appetite, which had been as much a part of him as his courage as a warrior.

  Sometime Jarl Gunnersson joined us. He turned to me one night when the songs had ended and we looked
up at the stars. “Would you not consider making this your life? You are a fine leader of men Aelfraed and I am sure that other ships would join us. We would have a greater chance of survival with you at our head.”

  I could see that my men were keen for me to continue to lead them. I shook my head, “I have enjoyed the journey and enjoyed leading you but my destiny lies in Miklagård. Events have happened which lead me here. What of the rest of you? I know that Ridley here will join me but what of all of you?”

  Stig spoke first, “We have spoken and although we hoped you would join us we can see now that the Norns have plotted a different life for you. I will go to Fat Folke and offer to lead his warriors, Harald and Hammer will join me for I have learned much from you Thegn and I thank you.”

  “And you Snorri, what of you? Do you not wish to serve on the river?”

  “No my lord, I have had enough; I have lost too many friends. I will stay a while in Miklagård. As you have been kind enough to offer me Ulf’s share of the profits I have no need to return to the river and I can plan my life.”

  “Eric, will you and Ragnar return to Hedeby?”

 

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