by Griff Hosker
Ragnar laughed, “By the Allfather! Are you a galdramenn?”
I shook my head, “I know my children, and my children’s children and…”
Ragnar held up his hand, “Spare me.”
“Besides he will be a ship’s boy. Erik Short Toe will watch over him. You know that.”
“I do but it does not make it any easier.”
“You can say no.”
Ragnar nodded, “And he will hate us.” He looked at Astrid and then back at me, “He will be safe?”
“As safe as I can keep him. This will happen one day.”
Astrid laid the sleeping bairn in her cot and said, sadly, “I would that it was not yet.”
Haaken and Olaf arrived the next day. Both were keen to raid but for different reasons. Olaf was single. Haaken lived in a house full of women. Two of his daughters were married but he still had a wife and two daughters at home. A raid was preferable. Both were now much older. Haaken had lost most of his hair and his beard was white. He had long ago stopped wearing a patch and the scarred eye gave him a frightening appearance. Olaf had been scarred and cut by the many battles we had fought. Some of his wounds had not been cleaned as effectively as others and the scars looked like tattoos on his cheeks and forehead.
“I see we take virgins with us, Dragonheart!”
I shook my head. Olaf Leather Neck had ever been outspoken, “We all had to have our first raid. This one does not require veterans.” Even as I said it I regretted the words for the Norns were spinning and the web they spun would trap us.
Haaken only had one eye but it missed nothing. He saw Sámr swarming up the mast with the other ship’s boys, “And Ragnar’s son comes with us?”
“I promised him last year and he remembered the promise.”
He took his chest off his horse. “We have taken them all now: your son, Wolf Killer, Ragnar your grandson, and now Sámr, your great grandson. Has any other Jarl ever taken three generations raiding?”
Olaf hefted his own chest on his back. “You write the stories, Haaken, is there another like the Dragonheart? Long after we are dead and forgotten he will still be remembered.” He looked at me. “Do any other Ulfheonar sail with us?”
“Just Rolf and Rollo. The men we take are keen to impress. Do not terrify them too much Olaf.”
He adopted an innocent expression. “Me?”
Ulla War Cry and Mordaf were both unhappy to be left behind. “Can we go next time?”
This time I was wary. “You can go when your mothers say that you can.” I saw the relief on the faces of Ebrel and Astrid. Sámr was looking pleased with himself. “And you, Sámr Ragnarsson will be treated just like any other member of the crew. But you will have the added responsibility of every eye watching you. Your father is a great leader. Your grandfather had a reputation too.”
“I know.”
“And while we raid you will call me Jarl as do the rest of the crew. You will be at the beck and call of Erik Short Toe. When you are not reefing and furling the sail you will be fetching food and ale to the rowers. You will be tightening stays and sheets. You will be peering into the distance to spy our enemies.” He nodded and I turned to the other two. “Does that sound like something you would like to do?”
To my dismay they both nodded and grinned.
Whale Island was a safe anchorage but that very safety made it hard to get in and out. Úlfarrston had been easier but Raibeart ap Pasgen’s home had been raided many times. The rowers had to edge us out to sea. We could not use a chant for they were listening to the orders being barked out by Erik. In many ways it was useful for the rowers had to think and they became used to the voice of their captain. Then we were beyond the land and Erik shouted for the ship’s boys to scurry up the stays and mast and unfurl the sail.
The wind was from the west. It was not an ideal wind but it meant we did not need to row. There was no requirement for us to reach our destination at a precise time. We had beaches and bays on the way where we could shelter. We would raid at night but it mattered not which day. As we headed out to sea I saw the island to the south which was Man and the distant coast of Hibernia. My granddaughter lived in Dyflin now with Thorghest the Lucky. Moon Child, their son, would almost be ready to raid soon. My offspring were growing. Veisafjǫrðr was also ruled by one of my jarls, Siggi Finehair. There had been times when the Vikings of Hibernia had been our enemies and a threat now it was not so. The men of Man, on the other hand… We were too strong for them but as ‘Heart of the Dragon’ beat south the older warriors and crew kept a wary eye on that treacherous land.
When we neared the Welsh coast and the island of Ynys Môn I clutched my wolf amulet. My life was bound closely with that mountain. One of my ancestors was buried in a cave now covered in a rockfall. I had been to the bottom of an underground pool and felt the hand of the Allfather. I had died and come back. Each time we passed I felt that much older and closer to death. The crew had to row. Erik would not risk the passage between the land and the island with a westerly. The crew rowed. Haaken chose a song that he particularly liked. For me it brought back too many memories and I wished he had not chosen it. Sámr loved it. He and the other boys were reefing the sails and I saw his face light up as the crew chanted the story of the wolf snake.
The wolf snake-crawled from the mountain side
Hiding the spell-wight in cave deep and wide
He swallowed him whole and Warlord too
Returned to pay the price that was due
There they stayed through years of man
Until the day Jarl Dragon Heart began
He climbed up Wyddfa filled with ghosts
With Arturus his son, he loved the most
The mouth was dark, hiding death
Dragon Heart stepped in and held his breath
He lit the torch so strong and bright
The wolf’s mouth snarled with red firelight
Fearlessly he walked and found his kin
The Warlord of Rheged buried deep within
Cloaked in mail with sharp bright blade
A thing of beauty by Thor made
And there lay too, his wizard friend,
Myrddyn protecting to the end
With wolf charm blue they left the lair
Then Thor he spoke, he filled the air
The storm it raged, the rain it fell
Then the earth shook from deep in hel
The rocks they crashed, they tumbled down
Burying the wizard and the Rheged crown.
Till world it ends the secret’s there
Buried beneath wolf warrior’s lair
Till world it ends the secret’s there
Buried beneath wolf warrior’s lair
Till world it ends the secret’s there
Buried beneath wolf warrior’s lair
By the time the crew had sung it eight times we were clear of Ynys Môn and Erik turned us south and east. The rowers could stop and we used the sails. Sámr slid down the back stay and stood close to Erik to receive more orders. I saw Erik smile. His own sons had been ship’s boys and now they captained other drekar. He was remembering them. “Well done Sámr Ragnarsson. Now take ale to the rowers. They have earned it.”
Lars Long Nose was the senior boy and the biggest of them. “I will carry the barrel for you.” He picked up the firkin. I could tell it was not full.
Sámr said, “Jarl would you like some ale?”
“No Sámr, I have had the easy task. Give it to the rowers they deserve it.”
Erik gestured with his to Sámr’s back as the two boys began to ladle ale into horns. “He is a good lad, jarl. He works harder than any and he does not quibble about unpleasant tasks. That is why Lars offered to help. He likes him.”
I knew what he meant. When Sámr was older he would lead warriors. It was important that they not only obeyed but they obeyed willingly. That would come if they liked him. I was under no illusions. My magic sword made men wish to follow me but they had foll
owed me willingly before the sword had been struck. Ragnar was the same as was Gruffyd. The Allfather had given us that gift when we were born or perhaps it came from the Warlord. The line which linked us was a long one.
The wind veered a little and sped us on our way. We normally stayed at Ynys Enlli but there was still light in the sky when it hove into view. Erik looked at me. I said, “Push on. There is that fjord in Wales. It is a good place to land.”
He nodded. We had raided the monastery which had been on the headland. After we had destroyed it they had moved it further east. It meant the beach beneath the headland was deserted. There were rocks for shellfish and it was sheltered. It also meant that we would be able to sail through the islands of the witches in broad daylight. None of us wished to sail those waters at dusk.
As we sat around the fire the Ulfheonar asked me for more details of the raid. We picked at the crabs we had caught and cooked while we spoke. “The monastery is new. It is supposed to be richly furnished by the Queen. We will see. We knew Egbert left his son wealthy. Perhaps he has enough burghs and now wishes to build churches. We know it is built of stone and that is not common. We know that they think the island is safe from attack and there will not be many guards. It is not on the coast.”
Having finished sucking the meat from the crab Olaf tossed away the shell. “Then this new Saxon king is a fool. The only thing which can keep us out is a stout wall.”
Rollo Horse Killer laughed, “When was the last time a wall kept you out?”
“True. It slows us down then.”
“But the result is still the same.”
Haaken stretched out on the sand, “And then we visit Bruggas. I wonder if it is as lively as Dorestad was.”
“So long as they have a good market I care not. We sell whatever we find and buy that which we need.”
As we ate I looked at the groups of warriors gathered around their fires. I knew many of them. Some of them had fathers who had served with me. I pointed to one giant of a warrior. He was a good head taller than the tallest of my men. I knew him not but there was something familiar about his features. “Who is that huge warrior?”
“That is Haraldr Leifsson. It is Leif the Banner’s son.”
“I did not know Leif had had a wife.”
“He did not. When he was a youth he was out hunting. He came upon Haraldr’s mother and laid with her. They were both young. He died not knowing that he had a son. The woman and her son lived in Lang’s Dale. It was only when Aðils Shape Shifter moved there that he discovered the story. Haraldr lived with his mother and grandparents. Aðils worked with him to give him skills and to tell him of his father.”
“His father was big but not as big as he.” Leif had carried my banner into battle. He had been a rock.
“Aðils told me that the boy’s mother is tall too.”
I wondered at that. Leif had been an honourable man. If he had known then he would have married the woman and brought up his son to be a warrior. If Aðils had not chosen to live in that remote valley he might have remained there not knowing his father’s story. Wyrd . I had them take me through some of the other warriors I did not know. Haraldr’s was the story I thought of as I went to sleep.
The next day we did not need to row for long as the wind was still from the west. Once we had cleared the headland we headed down the coast of Om Walum. I saw Haraldr looking at the land. If he had spent his life in Lang’s Dale then the sea and all that lay along it would be new to him. I stood next to him. He was more than a whole head taller than I was. I saw that he had a leather jerkin on and he had a sword strapped to his waist.
When I approached he gave a slight bow, “Jarl.”
I smiled, “You do not bow to me, Haraldr. We are not Franks. I understand that you only recently heard who your father was.”
“I knew he was a warrior and my mother knew his name but that was all. Aðils Shape Shifter said he was a brave man.”
“None braver. He carried my banner and that is the hardest task I can give a man for he cannot hold a shield and the banner.” I pointed to his sword. “A good sword.”
“Aðils gave it to me. He also gave me a shield and a spear. I have one of his wolf skin cloaks too.” He smiled. “He offered me a helmet but, like the rest of me, my head was too big.”
“Then when we return, rich and rewarded you must have Bagsecg make you one. A warrior needs a helmet especially one whose head will stand above the shield wall.”
He lowered his voice, “Jarl, Aðils taught me to use a sword and a spear. I can use a shield but I have not yet stood in a shield wall. I know not what to do.”
“Do not worry. We will have time to teach you when we return. We should not need a shield wall on this raid.” I should have waited to speak those words for we had not yet reached Syllingar. The witch who lived there would not have forgiven me. The Weird Sisters would spin. They liked to toy with warriors especially one who had dared to take from them something they had wanted: Ylva!
Sámr came up to us with two horns of ale, “Here Jarl. This is the top of the new barrel.”
“Thank you Sámr.” I pointed to my great grandson, “Haraldr Leifsson, this is my great grandson Sámr. Like you this is his first voyage. You have much in common.”
They smiled at each other. Sámr was still a child inside and he blurted out, “I have killed a warrior. Have you?”
Rather than being offended which would have been the case with most warriors Haraldr said, “But you are little more than a child! How did you do that?”
Sámr grinned and pulled out the fruit knife from his sea boots. “By being sneaky! I used this!”
I left them for Sámr was telling the story of Úlfarr and the Saxon killers. I did not need reminding about the brave wolf who saved my family.
We reached the waters of Syllingar just before the sun was at its highest. The new warriors just looked at the rocks and islands which seemed to dot the sea with interest. Erik and my older warriors clutched at amulets and invoked the help of Njoror to see us safely through. Our pleas must have worked for we were soon in the open water and flying as the wind was now from behind and our drekar was lithe and swift. When darkness fell we headed in towards the coast of Om Walum. The Saxons had built towers and burghs but we knew places where there were sheltered bays. There was no need to land. We ran out two sea anchors and slept. We did not sail at night unless we had to. Erik and his boys needed rest. A tired man makes mistakes.
The next day we headed out to sea. The Saxons had learned to fear raids from the sea. Most of the raids came from the east but their line of burghs and towers ran along the south coast of Wessex. Erik knew the waters well. We would sail due east until he estimated we were due south of Wihtwara. We hoped to reach the southern shores of the island at dusk and that would allow us to sail, unseen, around the coast and down the river. It meant that the crew would have to row at some point. As the wind had veered and was now coming from a south easterly direction that meant we began rowing.
The day was filled with grey. It was not raining but the air was filled with dampness. I now felt the cold more than I once had. I pulled my wolf cloak tighter about me. Just doing that brought back memories of Úlfarr. I stared to the south of us. A bank of either mist or rain was heading for us. Erik saw my look and nodded, “Lars saw it some time since. It is coming with the wind. It must be rain and not mist.”
I nodded and went to my chest. I would need my seal skin cape. “The rain helps us.” I put the wolf cloak in the chest and took out the seal skin cape. It was not as warm but I would be drier.
“It does, jarl. The men can stop rowing and we can head north. Njoror sends us a mizzle to cloak us and keep us hidden. The crew can rest and shelter from the rain. It is good.”
Sure enough as the squally rain hit us we turned. With the sail lowered and the oars stacked the rowers used their seal skin capes to make shelters on the deck. There they ate and drank. Older, wiser warriors like Olaf took the opportuni
ty to sleep while the younger ones, like Haraldr, spoke excitedly of the raid. Once the sail was lowered and the stays and sheets tightened Sámr joined me at the steering board. Water dripped from him. I opened my chest and took out the wolf cloak. “Put this about you. You should have a seal skin cape. We will buy you one with the coins we take.”
He sniffed the cloak as he draped it over his head and shoulders. He, too, was thinking of Úlfarr. I saw his hand clasp the wolf he wore about his neck. He turned to me. “I would rather spend my coin on mail.”
I shook my head, “You are still growing. You need a cape more. When you are full grown then we look at a helmet, sword and mail.”
“But how can I fight without sword and mail?”
“Look at the young warriors. Few have any mail. They wear leather. They are young and they will use speed to defeat their enemies. Warriors like Olaf and Haaken do not move as quickly. They have to stand and endure blows. Younger ones do not. This raid you will need to do nothing but when you are called upon to fight then use your head. It is a weapon.”
Erik said, “And now, Sámr, it is your turn to relieve Lars at the masthead. Take some dried fish and the water skin. You will be there until dark.”
“Aye captain.” He handed me back the wolf cloak. “Thank you for the cloak, jarl. I could smell Úlfarr. It gave me comfort. Is it wrong that I miss him?”
“No, for when you miss him you bring him back to life. I miss him too.”
He went to the barrel with the dried fish; took some and grabbed one of the water skins. I did not envy him the climb up the mast. The rain had made everything slick and slippery. I held my breath until he squatted on the yard with his legs wrapped around the mast. The wind dropped a little but the rain did not abate. I sat on my chest and pulled my cape tighter about me. I almost dozed and then I heard Sámr’s voice, “Land to the north!” We had reached Wihtwara.
Chapter 2
I stood and peered north. The light from the day was fading. The dying wind had almost cost us but the island could be seen as a darker smudge on the horizon. Erik put the steerboard over. It would slow us for a while but when we turned to sail along the eastern coast of Wihtwara we would pick up speed. Olaf and Haaken joined me. I saw that Rollo and Rolf both had clusters of younger warriors seated around them.