by Griff Hosker
“You are welcome here.”
“My crew spoke of you. We have just been to Hibernia. We were part of the fleet which Thorghest the Lucky led.”
“And was he lucky?”
The jarl shook his head, “We captured Dyflin but it is a piss poor port. It might have been rich in days gone by but the Hibernians have let it fall into ruin. Their warriors wear little mail and they do not have much gold. We came away little richer than we arrived.” He waved his left arm around the Haugr. “You have towers, a wall and a church! This is a richer looking place than Dyflin.”
I laughed, “I pray you do not try to raid it! We would not let that happen.”
He did not smile. As I learned he was not a particularly happy jarl. “No jarl, we would not raid you. We would live here in this land of the Northmen and we would use this as a base to raid. If you would have it, we would sail under you.”
“There is land and you are welcome to use it so long as you obey our laws.”
“Your laws?”
“We do not raid our neighbours, the Franks. To be honest we do not need to. There are richer lands close by. We will not raid again this year.”
“That is disappointing. But you would let us live here and we could raid?”
“So long as they are not the Franks who live to the south of us then no.”
“We will stay then.”
Your men can stay in the warrior hall this night, and then tomorrow we will find some land for you to farm.”
Fjor went to fetch the warriors. As we waited I asked, “Did the Dragonheart raid Dyflin with you?”
“No. He said he was an ally of the King of Munster. He would not stop his son in law raiding but he would not join him. He had given his word.”
“He was ever the most honourable of men.”
“And perhaps the cleverest. I can see now another reason why he did not raid. There was little to be gained. Now that Thorghest the Lucky rules Dyflin the Dragonheart and his allies can resume their trade and it has not cost him any men to do so.”
I was not certain I liked the implication. Dragonheart would never do anything so dishonourable. As the men of the ‘Cold Drake’ came ashore I saw that very few had mail. There were just thirty of them. He had the minimum crew necessary to sail his ship. I now saw why he had clutched at the straw that was the Haugr.
My wife made them welcome. As they ate I spoke with Sven the Helmsman and Arne Four Toes. “Where should we suggest that they raid?”
“The Bretons are no friends of ours. They are not near neighbours for their land lies beyond that of the Franks.”
“They are too close, Sven the Helmsman.”
Arne nodded and said, “I would suggest Essex. It is some time since we raided there and they said, in Dorestad, that Lundenwic is now as great a city as Rome or Miklagård.”
I had been to the Saxon city and I had found it dirty and without attraction. “Perhaps King Egbert has improved it since I was there. I will mention the two targets to the jarl.”
“And where will they live?”
“There is still good land to the east of Ċiriċeburh and north of Valognes. I will show them the land tomorrow and they can build their warrior hall. They have no women. They will not need their own farms yet.”
“More men may cause trouble jarl. We do not have large numbers of women.”
“We have enough. There are many warriors like you Günter who choose not to have a family. But you are right to mention it. I will ask them to swear an oath to follow the laws of the clan of the horse.”
As we headed towards the farmland I rode with Jarl Sigtrygg the Left-Handed. The men walked. I told him of our suggestions. “Lundewic and Essex are too big a mouthful for my small crew. We will try the land close to Raven Wing Island.”
“I should warn you that if you take slaves from there they often try to escape.”
“Thank you. We will bear that in mind.”
There was a slightly higher piece of ground. It had been cleared by my men but we had taken the timber for the new drekar Sven was building. There was a spring there. It was said that the ancient ones had revered it as a holy place. As Jarl Sigtrygg the Left-Handed had not had much luck I thought it propitious to offer him the site. Perhaps the spring would change his luck.
I pointed to the two shallow valleys. “This could be good grass for animals or, with a little work, it could be ploughed. There are enough trees for a hall.”
For the first time his face showed the hint of a smile. “I like it. We will build a hall here. When it is built then we will raid.”
I nodded, “And I would have you and your men swear an oath.”
He frowned; the hint of a smile disappeared. “What kind of oath? My men are oathsworn to me.”
“And I would not expect them to swear an oath to me but I would ask them to swear an oath to follow the laws of the land of the Northmen.”
“They would be the laws of Hrolf the Horseman.”
“No for all men would have a say.” I pointed to the west. “There is a reason for this, Sigtrygg. It is not me being awkward for no reason. When we lived on Raven Wing Island we welcomed warriors such as yourself. They chose not to follow our laws but wished to carry on their own ways. Things came to a head and there was a fight. We lost many good friends that day and an island home which we liked. If you will not swear an oath to follow our laws, then I would ask you to leave.”
He looked unhappy at the ultimatum. I was in no mood to discuss such matters. He needed us more than we needed him.
“I will speak on it with my men. If we decide that we do not wish to live under the laws of your land, we will leave tomorrow and find another home.”
“And that is all that I can ask.”
It was when I spoke with my wife after returning home that she came up with a solution. “Your laws are all spoken laws.”
“Aye. We all know them and we do not like to write things down.”
“You have said, before, husband, that this land is a new people. Saxon, Norse, Frank and Breton all live here. Is it not time that the laws all men should follow be written down? Father Michael can write them.”
“My men cannot read!”
“Then perhaps they should learn. It matters not. Laws which are written down cannot be challenged. The Franks, whom I know you will fight, write down their laws. Egbert has written laws. It cannot hurt.”
I began to see she was right.
Jarl Sigtrygg the Left-Handed did not come to speak with me the next day nor the one after that. I went with Ragnvald, Tadgh and Gurth to see him on the day following. I saw that they had half the hall erected. The posts were in and the wattle and daub in place. They had stacked the turf for the roof to one side. Fjor and Jarl Sigtrygg the Left-Handed came over to see me.
“I had thought you would have come to give me your decision, Jarl Sigtrygg the Left-Handed.”
He looked nonplussed, “I had thought that the fact I stayed here told you that we will obey your laws.”
I shook my head, “I can see that courtesy is not one of your strengths.”
Fjor hurriedly said, “I am sorry we did not let you know, jarl, but we spoke for a whole day. We decided that we would build a hall, then raid. We will give your land until Harpa. If we do not like your laws then we will leave but we all swear to obey them until then.”
“Good, then gather your men and swear now. This is my son and he will lead the clan when I am in the Otherworld.”
The crew of the ‘Cold Drake’ gathered before my son and me. Some were stripped to the waist but they all had their swords. I took out my sword. “Take out your swords.” They did so. “I swear that so long as you live in my land and obey the laws of the land of the Northman and the Clan of the Horse then you will be as shield brothers.”
Jarl Sigtrygg the Left-Handed said, “We did not expect you to swear an oath jarl.”
“You owe me duty and I owe you protection. Now swear to obey the laws of the land
of the Northman and the clan of the horse.”
They all did so.
“Then welcome. What will you call this place?”
“When we dug the turf, we found this.” He held up a seax. “ It looks different to the ones we use. It was buried in the ground. It is not rusted and looks ancient. One of my men said this was a sign. It is the kind of blade used by those who live in the land of the Saxons to the east. Not the ones who went to Britannia. They live in the forests of the Rinaz and are a fierce people. They are hardy warriors. They are called the Saux. We would call this the place of the Saux.”
“That is good. In the language of the people hereabouts that would be Saux-mesnil.” And that is what it became.
It took them seven days to finish their hall. In that time I worked with Father Michael to write down the laws that we used. They were, largely, the laws that Jarl Dragonheart had inherited from Prince Buthar. We had added that we did not make war on the Franks unless they attacked first. It was one of the laws which Father Michael liked. He kept the written laws in his church.
Jarl Sigtrygg and his men returned to make their drekar seaworthy and to ask the advice of Sven, Harold and Siggi. They wished to know the problems they might encounter on the coast which was new to them. It was good that they did so. They left for their voyage and I hoped that it would prove successful. It was now Haustmánuður. The seas were still as placid as they ever were in these waters. Soon they would become dangerous. We knew them but our new crew did not. We watched them edge their way around the island. I had told them that Bárekr’s Haven was an easier port to use. I did not order them to use it for no one told a jarl what he ought to do. Jarl Sigtrygg proved that he could listen. When, eventually, he did return, he landed there.
I decided to take my son and his new warriors to Ċiriċeburh. Saux-mesnil was just ten miles from its walls. I wished to visit with the lord there and tell him of the new arrivals. It would be a good chance to see how the new warriors had progressed. It was as we neared the Frankish port that I saw the evidence that the Norns had been spinning. There were animals in the fields and they were untended. The crops had yet to be gathered in. Few of the farms we passed had smoke rising from them or signs of habitation. I wondered what was amiss. When we reached the walls, the gates were open yet there was no sign of violence. They had not been raided.
“Ragnvald, keep your men outside. I will investigate.”
“I will come with you!”
“You will obey me. Now stay here. If I am not out by the time darkness falls then I am dead and you will return home with your men.”
I dismounted and handed my reins to Tadgh. I entered the gates. There were no guards. Was there anyone on the walls? Had they left? I dismissed the thought as soon as it came into my head. They would have taken their animals and harvested their crops. Only a fool left food to rot when winter approached. One of the houses by the gate had a door which was ajar. I went to it and opened it. There was the smell of death. I saw the family. They all lay in their beds. Their faces showed that they had suffered before they had died. They were covered in pustules and flies covered their bodies. They had all been killed by some sort of disease. I did not approach any closer. I opened more doors and found that most of the houses were the same. When I neared the hall, I saw that the church door was open. I heard voices and I went in. I stood in the door way. As I did so the priest’s head whipped around. I saw that there were, perhaps, a dozen people and all were lying on pallets. A woman was helping the priest.
“If you wish to live then come no further!” He turned to face me. He suddenly seemed to see me for who I was, a Viking, “Are you another plague sent by God to test us?”
William of Ċiriċeburh was lying close by me and, opening his eyes, he said, “Father Jean. He may be a Viking but he means no harm.” He held up his hand, “Come no closer, Jarl Hrolf. We have the pestilence. It began seven days since. A ship docked. It had come from Constantinople. They brought goods to trade and we held a market. We should have known there was something wrong for they had illness aboard.” He began to cough. He waved his hand for the priest to speak.
“The ship had called in the lands of the Arabs. They must have been cursed by the plague there. It was the day after the market that people began to fall sick. It was the old and the young who succumbed first. They had a fever and could not rouse themselves. I was not at the market. I had been visiting Valognes and I arrived back the day after. Within one day of my return people began to die. My lord thought to send to Carentan for help but none was fit enough to ride and I was the only one able to help the people.”
“Then I will send a messenger to Carentan and I will send for Father Michael.”
William of Ċiriċeburh said, “Do not tarry, Jarl Hrolf. If you come near us then you too may die. I fear this is the end of my burgh and the end of me! I have been a failure. I was sent to lead these people and I have failed.”
I ran from the church. The plague, the pestilence, there were many names for it but I knew that the old lord was right. Others would die. The only solution would be to burn it to the ground and rid it of all the disease.
Ragnvald looked at my face and saw that I was afraid. “What is wrong, father?”
“Send two of your warriors to Carentan. They should tell the lord there that there is the plague at Ċiriċeburh. Do not let them enter the town. They may be held as hostages. Then, take the rest of the warriors home and ask Father Michael to join me. I will wait until help comes.”
He looked to question me but I shook my head and waved. They galloped off and I mounted Dream Strider and rode around to the harbour. There were just three ships in port. I shouted, “Ho! Is there anyone on board?” I was rewarded by silence. I saw a hand. It was sticking out of a hatch. I rode my horse closer and saw that it belonged to a dead man. The sea had brought the plague and claimed the lives of the sailors. The ship from the east must have brought the disease. Were the ones on board immune or had they eventually succumbed? Would there be a death ship sailing the seas? The black squirrel came to mind and I touched my horse amulet.
I found no one alive save those in the church. The burgh had never had large numbers of people. Most were afraid of their neighbours, us, but now there would be but a handful left alive. I rode around to the main gate. I found myself afraid to enter again. I could fight an enemy with a sword or any other weapon but I could not fight that which I could not see. I remained outside. It was early afternoon when Father Michael arrived. He had with him his two acolytes, James and Jean. They had a horse loaded with supplies.
“Your son said they had the plague.”
“It came from a ship which arrived from Miklagård.”
“It would be rats. They carry disease. The fleas which live on them transmit it to humans. How many are left alive?”
“A handful. The priest is amongst them.”
“You can do nothing here. Return home.” He hesitated. “Did any breathe on you? Did you touch any?”
I shook my head.
“Then you may be safe.”
“I have sent to Carentan. I will wait for the messengers to return.”
“Very well. We will be here for some time.”
They rode in to the town and a short while later James came out with the horses. “Father Michael says we will not need these.”
“Are you not afraid?”
“God will watch over us for we do his work. Father Michael is a skilled healer. He has told us that if we take precautions then we will be safe.”
“I hope so.”
I heard hooves thundering up the road just before sunset. They must have ridden hard to have come from Carentan so quickly. There were two priests but the rest, all twenty, were mailed warriors. The leader had a red shield with two yellow stars. I had seen something like it before. I could not recall where. I had mounted Dream Strider when I had first heard them and the four horses Father Michael had brought were tethered together.
“Is t
his a trick, Norseman?”
I shook my head and waved my hand at the animals in the fields. “Look around, Frank, this is a place of death. If you want my advice, then burn it to the ground. Pestilence will haunt this place else.”
“We do not take advice from a barbarian. Go for my fingers itch!”
“I have not broken the peace!”
“Tell that to my cousin, Raymond of Bouquetot. He lay at death’s door for days after he fought with you.”
“He began the fight not I.”
He leaned over, “Then know this, Viking, that I shall end it. The Count has appointed me, Geoffrey of Thiberville, as lord of this town. Walk carefully around me!” He pointed to the smoke rising from the new farms in the distance. “Those farms are on Frankish land. This is the land of King Louis. Move them or they will die!”
They galloped past me and entered the gates. Slamming them shut behind them I was left alone. I had done what my wife would have called a Christian act and my reward was a threat. Christians did not seem to live up to their White Christ’s high standards. I turned Dream Strider and headed home. I was not afraid of this new lord with his handful of men. I would warn my people but there would be no immediate danger. It would take time to cleanse the land and the town. The peace, however, was coming to an end.
PART THREE
The Count of Carentan
The Land of the Horse
Chapter 10
Father Michael and his acolytes were away for a week. When they arrived back they rode to the walls of the Haugr and shouted for me. “It is over. Only six survived the curse of the Byzantine ship. Lord William is dead. They will burn the buildings today.”
“And you, Father Michael?”
“There are no signs of the pestilence but we will remain within my church for seven more days to be sure. It will be a vigil and we will pray for the souls of the dead.”