by Griff Hosker
“Haraldr, when we board you watch my back. I will cut their withy and then we return here.”
He grinned, “Aye, jarl!”
He was far too happy about what might be suicide for my liking.
The Welsh boat was higher at the prow and that was where they could board by jumping down on to my ship. The majority of their men were there. There were six men at the steering board. Four were armed and they were not expecting us. As we edged closer and I grabbed the back stay ready to jump, Haraldr suddenly leapt across the gap. He had long legs and he made it but he landed heavily. I had to follow him even though the gap was greater than I might have liked but I made a better landing. Landing on my feet I ripped my seax across the throat of the helmsman and hacked into the back of the man next to him. Even though he had landed heavily, Haraldr was slashing with knife and sword. There was a tangle of bodies and I could not help Haraldr. Blood was spurting and I could not tell whose it was. I picked up one of the axes the Welsh had held. I hacked through the withies and then through the steering board. The axe was sharp and I put all of my effort into the blow. I went to the back stay and chopped through it before going to the larboard side and doing the same there. The men at the bow had seen me and began to come down the ship. I saw that Haraldr was wounded.
I shouted, “Back to our ship.” I sheathed my sword and seax. I would need both hands.
He was struggling. His leg had been cut and he was bleeding heavily. “Leave me Jarl Dragonheart!”
“I leave no man.” I stood on the gunwale and grabbed the flapping back stay. I put my other hand out and pulled him up. Hang on!” A sudden gust of wind caught the Welsh sail and the mast began to creak and crack. As Haraldr put his arms around my waist I jumped across the yawning gap. It was Haraldr’s size and weight which saved us. We swung over the grey, black water and landed heavily on the deck close to our steering board.
“Haaken!” Haaken disengaged himself from the Welshman he had been fighting. Olaf slew him. I saw that the Welsh who had boarded us were dead and the rest were back aboard their stricken ship. “Haraldr is wounded. See to him!”
“Aye jarl!” He shook his head, “After all these years you can still surprise me.”
I nodded and ran to the steering board. “She is sluggish, great grandfather!”
“We are sinking! Back to the oars! Row for all you are worth!”
Olaf Leather Neck began the fast chant. This was the one we used when we wished to fly across the sea!
Push your arms
Row the boat
Use your back
The Wolf will fly
Ulfheonar
Are real men
Teeth like iron
Arms like trees
Push your arms
Row the boat
Use your back
The Wolf will fly
Ragnar’s Spirit
Guides us still
Dragon Heart
Wields it well
Push your arms
Row the boat
Use your back
The Wolf will fly
I pushed the steering board over a little. I could see white sand. From my memory I took it to be the desolate land north of the Maeresea. A Viking from Man had landed there. He had named the beach and the village after himself, Fornibiyum. He and his people had been wiped out by the Mercians. Although he was long dead, we remembered the name and we recalled that it was a safe place to land for the tide went out a long way. I could see that the sea was almost at our gunwales. The men were pulling as fast and hard as they could.
I turned to Sámr, “Throw the bodies of the dead overboard. Throw anything over the side which is not treasure.”
He laughed, “Great Grandfather, travelling with you takes me to a world I did not know!” He ran down the ship to do my bidding.
Haaken looked up. He had staunched the bleeding. “He is not just Wolf Killer; he is Wolf Killer and Dragonheart in the same body. This is a warrior I would follow.”
Haaken One Eye was right. Sámr was special. He had been chosen by the gods. It suddenly came to me. That was the reason we had been saved. It was not for us. It was for Sámr. He had become not only a warrior but he had learned what it took to be a leader. My men had told me that on the Isle of the Sheep, it was Sámr who had kept them together.
We were no longer in imminent danger. The discarded bodies had helped a little. We made a few more paces towards the beach. Water was lapping around the upper strakes but it was not pouring over any longer. When I felt the keel grind upon the sand I silently thanked the Allfather.
“Get the wounded off the ship and them empty the treasure. We have found land. We have not found the Land of the Wolf. This is Mercia and every man’s hand will be turned against us.” I donned my mail and took my shield. I picked up my helmet. ‘Red Snake’ was dying. She had had a bad start but, at the end, she had proved herself. We had sixty miles to travel to the Land of the Wolf. The men did not hang around. They worked feverishly. We had to lift the deck to get the treasure and the chests we had stored there. We had to remove the sacks of grain we had taken. It all took time. The sea was sucking at ‘Red Snake’ . The tide was turning. Njoror wanted to take her down to his home! I placed all the maps inside the leather case and slung it around my neck. I put my shield upon my back. I waited until everyone else had left the drekar and then I went to the prow. I stroked the figurehead as I left her. “I cannot burn you, as you deserve. Njoror will take you out and you will sink. You will always be in our hearts.” I jumped into the sea. The tide was on the ebb. The drekar would be taken out to sea and she would die.
By the time I reached the others the drekar was already drifting out to sea. My men and all that we had saved were gathered on the beach. Haraldr looked a little pale and the other three wounded men might be a problem. A Viking looked for solutions. “Whatever we do not wish to take home, we leave here. We have two hard days of marching. We need food. We can find water but food cannot be created!”
Some of the things we had brought seemed unimportant. We made a pile. Sámr said, “Why not bury what we cannot take. We are sixty miles from the Land of the Wolf. We can come back for it.”
“Dragonheart reborn!” Haaken’s words were genuine and well meant. When all had been sorted we found a place in the sand dunes and dug a hole. I went to the nearest tree and carved Sámr’s name in the bark. We would find it. I looked out to sea as the last chest was buried. I saw ‘Red Snake’ , she was slowly sinking beneath the waves. Of the Welsh ship there was no sign. I suspect that the damage I had done meant they had no control over her. If she drifted close to Man then they would incur the wrath of the Vikings there. I cared not. We had made land. We had lost no one.
It was dark. I did not wish to risk becoming lost by travelling at night time. And we were all exhausted. “We camp here and march in the morning. Can we make thirty miles?”
Ráðgeir Ráðgeirson shouted, “We can make Norway it you ask, Jarl Dragonheart!”
We made a cheery camp. There were no rock pools for shellfish and most of our food had already been eaten but we lit a fire and we huddled together. We were just grateful to be alive.
I ached when I woke. I was getting too old for this. We had chests to carry. The strongest men carried the chests with the coins and the sacks with the food. Sámr joined the Ulfheonar and me at the front of the column, Ráðgeir Ráðgeirson and Galmr brought up the rear. There were twenty-six of us and we had lost irreplaceable men. We struggled on, in their memory. We reached the river the Romans called the Belisima. As much as we wanted to rest we had to cross it. We headed upstream and found a ford. We managed another three miles and could go no further. We camped and drank water and ate the last of the mutton. It was on the edge of being rancid.
Haraldr did not look good. Haaken had a worried look upon his face. “What is amiss Haaken?”
“I fear there is poison in the wound. I would open it.”
“You nee
d fire.”
“I need fire.”
“Then light one. He deserves that.” I set sentries and a fire was lit. Haraldr was brought before the fire and I retrieved Wolf’s Blood from Sámr. I placed the knife in the fire. When the fire was hot enough Haaken placed his blade in the fire. He nodded to me. I took my blade and slit open the wound. Pus poured out of it. Haaken waited until it ran red with blood and then used his sword to seal it. Sámr held Haraldr’s hand. The wounded warrior’s back arced and then he relapsed, unconscious.
I put my arm around my great grandson, “You did well.”
“Will he live?”
“That is in the hands of the Allfather.”
When we woke Haraldr had a better colour and an appetite. I felt hopeful as we headed north. We had raided this land before. Sigtrygg Thrandson had been jarl here until he had fallen to the Danes. We were almost home. The Norns are like a cat with a mouse. They like to tease and to torment. By the middle of the afternoon we were approaching the Lune when Galmr, who was scout, reported enemies to the north, at the river. “Jarl, there are Saxons at the ford.”
I knew we could head upstream but that would just bring us into even more danger. The ford was the shortest way home. We were less than twenty miles from home. I looked at my men. I had twelve who were fit. “Galmr, how many men contest the crossing?”
“Twenty.”
“Mercians?”
“Yes, Jarl Dragonheart,”
“Then we take them.” I pointed to the men who I would lead. “You come with me. The rest stay here. If we fail…. Make your own way home and remember us well.”
Sámr ran to me, “No!”
Haaken said, “Sámr, this is wyrd . We throw the bones and see where they fall. It has been a good life and I would not miss one moment of it for I have followed the Dragonheart!”
I nodded to Sámr and drew my sword. “We want to get home to our families and twenty men stand in our way. They are Saxons. We are Viking!” I nodded to Siggi Long Face who led us over the top of the ridge and through the undergrowth. As soon as we crested the rise I saw the Saxons. They had horses and they were camped by the river. They were a border patrol. The Lune marked the northern border of Mercia. They had fishing lines out and some were stretched out sleeping. We ran down the slope. I thought we were making noise but obviously they did not hear us. We were less than fifty paces from them when they spied us. I still had my shield around my back and I swung my sword two-handed at the middle of the surprised Mercian. My blade tore him in two. I lifted it and brought it down on to the skull of the warrior next to him. I did not feel like a greybeard. I felt like the young warrior who had stood with Old Ragnar and Haaken and fought our enemies. I dropped to one knee and lunged upwards as the Mercian swung his sword at my head. My blade split him from the crotch to the throat. I had brought just eleven fit men with me. We were outnumbered but the Saxons had been enjoying a day fishing. It was an unequal contest. Olaf Leather Neck and Haaken were by my side. We hacked, slashed and stabbed at any Saxon who came within range of our blades. And then it was over. They were all dead.
While Sámr and the others came over the ridge to join us I mounted one of the Saxon horses and forded the river. Once on the other side I kissed the ground. “Allfather, you have brought us back to the Land of the Wolf. I thank you.” We were almost home.
Epilogue
It was some moons later that we heard the whole story. We had many goods to sell in Dyflin and Bruggas. We sent our knarr escorted by two drekar to do so. The Welsh attack had been a warning. My ships stayed in the ports to trade and to hear news. Both ports were full of the stories. Some were true; I recognised those parts which I had witnessed. Others were, patently, exaggerations. The Saxons had been the victors and they had written the stories. It was Aiden and Atticus, along with Haaken and me who pieced together the whole story. We eliminated the lies and assessed the rest.
Thousands of Danes had died in the battles of Lundenwic and Aclea. The Saxons said that their God had saved them. I knew that was wrong. The Danes, Halfdan Ragnarsson, said that they had been betrayed by Jarl Dragonheart and faithless Norsemen. My people knew that was not true but the story was told and retold. As a result, it was the dead brothers, Hvitserk and Sigurd who were accorded all the glory. Halfdan had returned to their family’s lands and, so I heard, was planning an even bigger raid. It seemed that the raid had only whetted his appetite. I was not finished with Halfdan Ragnarsson but I would not raid for a while. I had young to train. The survivors of the raid were rich but we all felt that there was something unfinished. We had achieved something great and yet there were still enemies who remained unpunished. The gold we had taken would be put to good use. The next time we went to war it would be with a warband who all had mail and helmets. We would take so many arrows that their flight would make day night. The survivors of the raid came back changed men. They came back determined men.
The biggest change was in Sámr. His parents noticed it. Ulla War Cry was desperate to emulate his big brother. He had Ulfheonar as friends and the warriors who had sailed with him now spoke of him as a warrior. He became totally focussed on becoming the best warrior that he could be. He had seen death and he had survived. He had seen men die and he had lived. He had witnessed treachery and deceit as well as honour and sacrifice. He now looked like a man. The raid of the Viking warband had changed him from a child to a warrior. Ragnar would lead after I died but when he fell Sámr would ensure that the Clan of the Wolf lived on. It was wyrd.
The End
Norse Calendar
Gormánuður October 14th - November 13th
Ýlir November 14th - December 13th
Mörsugur December 14th - January 12th
Þorri - January 13th - February 11th
Gói - February 12th - March 13th
Einmánuður - March 14th - April 13th
Harpa April 14th - May 13th
Skerpla - May 14th - June 12th
Sólmánuður - June 13th - July 12th
Heyannir - July 13th - August 14th
Tvímánuður - August 15th - September 14th
Haustmánuður September 15th-October 13th
Glossary
Afen- River Avon
Afon Hafron- River Severn in Welsh
Àird Rosain – Ardrossan (On the Clyde Estuary)
Aledhorn- Althorn (Essex)
Alpín mac Echdach – the father of Kenneth MacAlpin, reputedly the first king of the Scots
Alt Clut- Dumbarton Castle on the Clyde
An Lysardh - Lizard Peninsula Cornwall
Balley Chashtal -Castleton (Isle of Man)
Bardanes Tourkos- Rebel Byzantine General
Beamfleote -Benfleet Essex
Bebbanburgh- Bamburgh Castle, Northumbria also known as Din Guardi in the ancient tongue
Beck- a stream
Beinn na bhFadhla- Benbecula in the Outer Hebrides
Belesduna – Basildon Essex
Belisima -River Ribble
Blót – a blood sacrifice made by a jarl
Blue Sea- The Mediterranean
Bondi- Viking farmers who fight
Bourde- Bordeaux
Bjarnarøy –Great Bernera (Bear Island)
Breguntford – Brentford
Brixges Stane – Brixton (South London)
Bruggas- Bruges
Brycgstow- Bristol
Burntwood- Brentwood Essex
Byrnie- a mail or leather shirt reaching down to the knees
Caerlleon- Welsh for Chester
Caer Ufra -South Shields
Caestir - Chester (old English)
Cantwareburh -Canterbury
Càrdainn Ros -Cardross (Argyll)
Cas-gwent -Chepstow Monmouthshire
Casnewydd –Newport, Wales
Cephas- Greek for Simon Peter (St. Peter)
Chape- the tip of a scabbard
Charlemagne- Holy Roman Emperor at the end of the 8th and beginning of the 9th centuries
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Celchyth - Chelsea
Cherestanc- Garstang (Lancashire)
Cil-y-coed -Caldicot Monmouthshire
Colneceastre- Colchester
Corn Walum or Om Walum- Cornwall
Cymri- Welsh
Cymru- Wales
Cyninges-tūn – Coniston. It means the estate of the king (Cumbria)
Dùn Èideann –Edinburgh (Gaelic)
Din Guardi- Bamburgh castle
Drekar- a Dragon ship (a Viking warship) pl. drekar
Duboglassio –Douglas, Isle of Man
Dun Holme- Durham
Dún Lethglaise - Downpatrick (Northern Ireland)
Durdle- Durdle dor- the Jurassic coast in Dorset
Dwfr- Dover
Dyrøy –Jura (Inner Hebrides)
Dyflin- Old Norse for Dublin
Ēa Lōn - River Lune
Earhyth -Bexley (Kent)
Ein-mánuðr - middle of March to the middle of April
Eoforwic- Saxon for York
Falgrave- Scarborough (North Yorkshire)
Faro Bregancio- Corunna (Spain)
Ferneberga -Farnborough (Hampshire)
Fey- having second sight
Firkin- a barrel containing eight gallons (usually beer)
Fornibiyum-Formby (near Liverpool)
Fret-a sea mist
Frankia- France and part of Germany
Fyrd-the Saxon levy
Ganda- Ghent (Belgium)
Garth - Dragon Heart
Gaill- Irish for foreigners
Galdramenn- wizard
Gesith- A Saxon nobleman. After 850 AD, they were known as thegns
Glaesum –amber
Glannoventa -Ravenglass
Gleawecastre- Gloucester
Gói- the end of February to the middle of March
Gormánuður- October to November (Slaughter month- the beginning of winter)
Grendel- the monster slain by Beowulf
Grenewic- Greenwich
Gulle - Goole (Humberside)
Hagustaldes ham -Hexham
Hamwic -Southampton
Hæstingaceaster- Hastings
Haustmánuður - September 16th - October 16th (cutting of the corn)