by Griff Hosker
She gave me a sharp look, “You do not trust them?”
I shrugged, “In most matters, yes I do, but when it comes to the White Christ then I like confirmation.”
“You have become less trusting as you grow older.”
“We have been betrayed by too many whom we trusted before now.”
Deidra and Macha came to the doorway and coughed, I looked up, “You sent for us, Jarl?”
I closed the lid on the box and then turned over the calfskin. I would question them first and see their reactions.
“We returned yesterday to the monastery from which you were taken.” I could have predicted what they would do, they both made the sign of the cross. “We killed the Saxons who were there and rescued the slaves.”
They smiled and Macha said, “You have a good heart, Jarl Dragon Heart….”
“You mean for a Viking?” She coloured and I held up my hand. “It matters not. Tell me was there a saint connected with your monastery?”
“Saint Brigid. It is why we were there. It was rumoured that there were some of her bones in the church but we never saw them.”
They looked at me with curiosity burning in their eyes and on their lips. “Did she have a ring? One with a green stone surrounded by smaller blue ones?”
They looked at each other. Macha said, “The ring of Hibernia. I thought that was a legend.”
“Tell me the legend then.”
“It sounds too farfetched to believe.”
I smiled, “I am open minded, tell me.”
She shrugged. “It seems a Roman soldier came from the mainland to ask her a question.” She paused, “There were rumours that Saint Brigid had been the slave of a druid, you understand.”
“The question?”
“The question was about the safety of Britannia. Saint Brigid said that a warrior would come from the darkness and bring light to the land.”
Deidra shook her head as though to rid her mind of the image of an Abbess telling fortunes. “We were convinced that the story had been made up by the pagans to make us believe that Saint Brigid was the Earth mother.” They crossed themselves again.
“And the ring?”
“The ring was a gift from the Roman. It was said to represent the island of Hibernia, green, in a blue sea.”
“But is all a legend and not to be believed.”
I opened the casket and took out the hand and the ring. They both screamed and made the sign of the cross before clutching their own crosses as though their lives depended upon them.
“It is true then?”
“It looks like it. Now,” I turned the map over, “what can you tell me about this?”
I think the shock of the ring made them forget that I was pagan and they translated word for word. When Aiden returned he confirmed it.
I write this record knowing that my death is close at hand. I have served my masters well: I devoted my life to God, I helped King Coel and King Urien to protect the frontier and I kept alive the Roman ways. I have done my duty.
The barbarians are coming and I fear that the Warlord will not be able to hold them back forever. I believe with all my heart that there will come a hero as Lann of Stanwyck came from obscurity to hold back the Angles and the Saxons. It will not be in my lifetime.
To that end I have hidden the treasure of Rheged in the old Roman fortress of Luguvalium. The map will help someone to find it. I believe that God will direct some unborn hand to this end. I have buried it with St. Brigid’s hand and ring as a way of telling the finder of the treasure. If the hand is not with this map then the barbarians have won and the treasure of Rheged is lost forever. The priests in this church know not what I do and when I return north they will still be none the wiser.
The true hero will be from the same stock as Lann of Stanwyck and, in him, is the hope for Britannia.
I go to God with a clear conscience,
Osric of Rheged
The letter touched the former nuns. They had heard of this holy man, apparently. He had been another legend of Rheged. It was now obvious to me that he had buried the chest himself knowing that his time on earth was growing short. It explained much. I now had a name for the Warlord; Lann of Stanwyck.
I must have mused for some time for Erika said, “What is it husband?”
I smiled at the two former nuns who looked astounded, “I just find it staggering that I was meant to find this; a religious object and a map hidden by a priest of the White Christ. Wyrd.”
I almost burst out laughing when the two women crossed themselves again and then fled back to their cheese making. Erika put her arm around my waist. “And you have been chosen.”
“I found the box and there is a connection but this was a follower of the White Christ and I am, what they call, a pagan.”
“We cannot know the ways of the Allfather nor the Norns. Perhaps the Allfather and the White Christ are one and the same.”
I shook my head vehemently. “No, that cannot be for the White Christ turns the other cheek Odin would never turn the other cheek. But you may be right. I might be the instrument chosen for this task.”
When Aiden and Arturus returned the content of the map was confirmed and I had Aiden make a copy of the map. Arturus was excited beyond words. “When do we go for this treasure?”
“There is no hurry and we have far too much to do here. We have a summer to prepare our homes for the winter and my warriors and I will need to gather grain for the winter.”
Erika looked at me as I said that. It meant we would be sailing off to raid the Cymri and the Saxons. We would be going to war again.
Chapter 15
There were never enough hours in the day. The Ulfheonar worked from dawn to dusk to finish off the settlement on the east of the water and that on the west. We had to build a palisade for the one on the western shore and that took time. My warriors did not spend all of their time working. Many of the newly arrived refugees were handsome women and girls. All of them loved this new land and wished to lay down roots. There would be many marriages at midsummer.
There were also more mundane things to attend to like the naming of the dog that Lang had given us. Arturus and Kara both badgered about the name. “You said that when you returned from the raid you would name her!”
I had, in truth, forgotten. She had come into the hall which meant Erika had softened her views. She lay next to my weapons which were by the fire. I looked at my shield and said, “Wolf! Call her wolf.”
Surprisingly, for they rarely agreed, both of my children loved the name and the golden dog became Wolf.
When the halls and huts were finished we had to begin the work of ensuring supplies for the winter. We sent ‘Serpent’ to trade for seeds while Bjorn stopped turning out weapons and began to make ploughs and farming implements. With midsummer approaching I took Aiden, Arturus and the Ulfheonar on a journey west. We knew that the sea was not far from Lang’s Dale and we had seen villages there. If we could make those people our friends then it might save us a portage with our boats. It seemed a good idea. We used the horses we had brought and the wild ponies which we had found on the fells. It made the journey a little quicker.
Lang looked pleased to see us. We had not bothered him and Erik had made sure that he and his family were sent gifts of ale and cheese when they were made.
“We would have you and your family come for a feast on Midsummer Day. There will be many warriors marrying and it will be a happy time.”
I could see, before he even answered, that his wife was keen to visit. It must have been lonely for her in this lovely valley to be without other women. I had learned that men can be happy with themselves but women grew happier with the company of other women.
“We will be honoured.”
“What can you tell me of the land west of here?”
“We have not journeyed that far. The mountains are high and there is little to be gained. I went as far as the high pass and the old Roman fort which is perched there.”
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“We will ride to the coast and I will speak with you again when I return.”
The land did, indeed, climb steeply. I was grateful to those long dead Roman engineers and road builders who had created this cobbled road to the sea. This Osric had obviously been one of them. We halted at the Roman fort to rest the horses and so that I could explore it. I was impressed. It was made of stone and had ditches all around. No one could have crossed the pass without the permission of the garrison. It set me thinking. We had a pass such as this close to the dale where we were planting rye. Two families had settled there. If they could build a tower or a wall then we would have a defence to the north of my little kingdom.
We reached the end of the pass and looked out towards the sea. “Look, Jarl Dragon Heart, it is Man!”
Snorri was right. There, glistening like a green jewel in a blue sea was man. It looked close enough to touch.
Haaken reined in his horse. “Aye but now Erik is no longer Prince he is now King of Man.”
There was bitterness in Haaken’s voice. “It is a title, nothing more. I think of this land as a kingdom but we need no king do we? What would a king bring except someone before whom we would bow the knee?”
I did not notice the glances shared by my Ulfheonar. They resented the fact that Erik had benefitted from what we had done. I did not mind for he was Erika’s brother. He was not blood but he was family.
It was early afternoon when we reached the walled village. We had seen it for the last three miles or so. Aiden was fascinated by the mile markers the Romans had put by the road. He and Arturus discussed the people who had built these roads. It made me think about the mark we left on the land. Our houses were made of wood. If Hrams-a was abandoned then what would remain in the time of Arturus’ son? Nothing. We needed to leave our mark on this land.
When the gates slammed shut as we approached I should have known we would not be given a good welcome but I still believed that we could make all believe our true intentions. We were not in war gear although we had swords and bows. The walls were just sixty paces from us and bristled with spears and ancient helmets.
I held out my hands, “I come in peace.” I spoke in Saxon for I thought they might understand that. My answer was an arrow which pinged off the cobbles ten paces from me. My horse skittered back a little in fear. My warriors’ hands went to their weapons. I held up my hand, “Let us not start a war over this.” I tried again, this time in the language of the Welsh. I only had a few words but I hoped they would be enough. “We come in peace.”
A greybeard appeared and spoke in halting Saxon to me. “We do not need your peace. We know you for what you are. You are Vikings and you are not to be trusted. Go from this place or we will kill you.”
”I am Jarl Dragon Heart and a man of my word. I say that I come in peace.”
There was a pause and then I heard laughter from the walls. “That is what your fellow killer, Sihtric Silkbeard, said before he killed the warriors from the next village and enslaved them. We do not trust Vikings.”
“I am not Sihtric.”
The answer we received was a shower of arrows. They were not intended to kill us but some came perilously close. I led my men away. Einar growled, “Let us go back and get our weapons. We will destroy these insects and raze their little village.”
I heard the grumble of agreement. “No. They are doing what we would do. They have every right not to trust us. They are wrong but they do not know that. We will have to win them over.”
Haaken looked at the sky which was clouding over. “We will not make the water by night fall.”
“I know. We will stay in the old Roman fort.”
We reached it before dark and while Snorri and Beorn sought some game I had the others light a fire while I explored the ruins.
I had noticed that all these forts followed the same pattern. They all had four gates, one in each wall. There looked to be long narrow halls which may have been barracks and there were, as usual, a cluster of buildings for eating and cooking. Aiden and I were looking for one with the remnants of a roof.
Aiden spotted the small building which looked to be most intact. It looked to be big enough to accommodate the few men I had brought with us. Leaving Arturus and Aiden to clean it out I went to see to the animals. There was a water trough and enough water in it for the animals. We tethered them on the grass outside the walls and they happily grazed.
I spent some time with Haaken and Cnut admiring the way the fort had been built. We had much to learn from these ancient Romans who were such clever engineers. I heard Arturus shout for me and we ran over, our weapons out. When I saw the grin on his face I sheathed my weapon. “Do not shout like that, you had me worried.”
“I am sorry but see what Aiden has found.” They had a burning brand and Aiden had discovered another room behind the one in which we would sleep. He pointed to the floor. There was a wooden door with a metal handle. I could see that some of the roof had collapsed and covered it. The two of them had revealed it by their excavations.
Haaken rubbed his hands together. “More treasure!”
“This was a fort and not a church.”
Haaken pointed to the hole. “That looks to be the same size as the one we saw in the monastery. We will find out when we open it.”
I leaned down and pulled on the handle. It was stiff and the old wood creaked alarmingly. Suddenly the handle and a huge chunk of wood ripped out and I fell backwards, much to the delight of my son. Haaken quickly finished ripping out the rotting wood and thrust the torch inside.
“There is something down here but this looks to be a deeper hole.”
The entrance was too small for any of us. Arturus looked up expectantly. “Very well, son, but be careful down there.”
He climbed down and we saw that there were small steps. Whoever had gone down had had to be tiny. We passed him a torch and he said, “There are boxes and bags down here.”
“Many?” Haaken sounded excited.
“A few,” Arturus sounded equally disappointed.
“Can you pass them up?”
His voice became excited as he said, “Yes and they are heavy!”
He lifted one box up which was about the length of his forearm and as thick as Bjorn’s mighty leg. Haaken greedily grabbed as Arturus disappeared inside his hole for more. The top was wrenched off to reveal a box of Roman nails. I almost laughed at Haaken’s disgust.
“Nails? Why would they hide nails?”
“Macha told me that Roman soldiers used to sole their sandals with nails and when they left their forts the nails remained behind.” Aiden had much information stored in his young head.
“They may not be treasure to you Haaken but Bjorn will appreciate them.”
Arturus brought up four boxes of nails. “There is a cloth or something here. I will move it.” A red cloak was thrust up. It had had a metal attachment but it had broken. I heard a squeal of delight, “I have found a helmet. Can I keep it?”
“We will see.” He handed up a helmet which looked nothing like ours. It appeared to be made of a yellow metal like bronze and had a curved piece to protect the back of the neck and two cheek guards. I handed it to Aiden, “This has to be Roman.”
I heard an, “Ow!”
“What is it?”
“I picked something up from the floor and it stuck in my finger.”
“Leave them then. Is there anything else?”
“There is something in the corner.” There was the sound of something being dragged and then his head appeared with two sacks. “These are heavy.”
“Probably more nails.”
“I told you Haaken, Bjorn will like them.”
“I will check the far end. There looks to have been jars of something but the jars have broken.”
He disappeared and we opened the sacks. They contained silver Roman coins. “Now this is treasure.”
It had been silent for a while and I began to worry about Arturus. What was it about my
family and dark holes in the ground? Suddenly a sword appeared from the hole and Arturus held it. “If I cannot have the helmet, can I have this?”
It was a Roman sword. It was about the same length as my seax but much broader. In all conscience I could not deny him. “Yes if you can clean it up.”
“I will.”
“Is that it?”
“Pass me the helmet and I will collect these things which stuck in my finger.”
Haaken asked, “Why?”
“If the Romans put them here then it must be for a purpose. It will not take me long.”
Aiden’s influence on my son was beginning to pay off. He was thinking well. The helmet came up and then Arturus squirmed out. “Well done son. That was bravely done.”
Aiden held the helmet and I took out one of the objects. “What in the name of the Allfather are they?”
I took one out. They looked like four nails welded together. I could not fathom their purpose. Aiden took one and dropped it on the floor. He picked it up and repeated it four or five times. “Do you see, Jarl Dragon Heart? They always land with one spike sticking up. They are intended to stick into men’s feet.”
“Or horses.”
“Indeed, horses. If you put these before a shield wall then they would find it hard to rush at you.”
I nodded. “This is ‘wyrd’ we found little gold but much treasure. I am pleased we were turned away from the village else we would not have stayed here.”
When we reached Waterston I could see the change another day had made. Bjorn was delighted with the nails and intrigued by the four sided object. We had no name for them as yet and Arturus just called them hedgehogs. It seemed as good a name as any. We decided to take some with us the next time we fought. I could not see when we might need them but, so far, I could find no fault with the Roman war machine.
I had time, after we returned to ride to meet with Rolf and Windar. I took Dargh with me. Since we had arrived at the water he had felt a little lost. He and his men had worked hard but they had no place of their own. I had an idea which I wished to put to Rolf. My journey across the Roman Road had set my mind working.