Ulric the Jarl

by William Stoddard

  The fire ran everywhere along the bulwarks of The Sword and began to climb over the decks. It climbed the high mast and the wind blew it out like a banner.

  “Odin!” shouted Ulric. “The Britons are on the rocks! Smite now!”

  Fast flew the arrows and the spears, and almost useless were the wicker shields of the Britons. Many of them had none, and their blue bodies were plain marks for shaft and stone. They fell in heaps upon the ledge, but a score of them broke through the flames to the very fore deck of The Sword, and here too the fire was blazing hotly. Here before them lay Lars the Old, stretched out as on his funeral pyre. These were of the best armored of the Britons, and one could understand that they had thought to take The Sword and push her off, that by her means they might reach the trireme.

  No good captain would so have planned, for such a thing might not be done; but these men were brave, for they stood well and some of them hurled their darts vigorously at the vikings, while others strove vainly to shove The Sword from the rocks into the sea.

  This thing that came not any man had expected. Just as the strong fire in the cabin began to burst up redly through the fore deck, and a fiercer flame mounted the after deck, and all the bulwarks were ablaze, up to his feet sprang Lars the Old, his gray hair streaming in the wind. One blow he struck with his broken sword, burying it in the body of a British chief, and then he began to ply his long-handled ax with the strength of one who is dying. Upon him turned the spears and the swords of the Britons and he was stricken quickly. He did not shout, but he cleft one more while falling.

  “The hero dieth!” said the jarl, hurling his spear, and it flew well, but there were not many now upon the fore deck.

  More were swimming from the shore to the ledge, but the fire was completing its work, and the plan of the Druids was broken altogether. When once more the wind put aside the black curtain of the smoke it was seen that the entire prow had fallen in and that to the very helm the flames were fighting joyously.

  “We will stay by until she is burned to her keel,” said Ulric; “but now pull out a little further.”

  So did they, and the Britons came no more to the ledge, for the prize they had hoped for was a heap of ashes upon the rocks.

  “A good ship was she,” muttered Knud the Bear. “She fought well against the ice floes and the storms. May all the gods go with us in this trireme. I would I knew her by some name.”

  “O Knud,” loudly responded Ulric, “I will answer thee. This keel that was Roman hath become Saxon, and her name is now The Sword. Else we had not burned the other. The trireme shall be to us as if we had builded her on the shore of the Northland. She will sail with the hammer of Thor and the flag of Odin and not with a Roman god.”

  “I am better satisfied,” exclaimed Wulf the Skater. “But many good rowers must take the oars of this trireme in battle. She is heavy.”

  “I think,” said Tostig the Red, “that we are stronger than are the hired rowers or the slave rowers of the Romans. Her beak will break the ribs of another keel and she will do well in storms.”

  The jarl’s eyes were still upon the burning timbers which remained upon the ledge.

  “I will take a boat,” he said, “and men with me. We must gather all fragments for utter destruction.”

  Upon that duty he went, and it was made complete before the small boat returned to the trireme. All the while many Britons watched them from the shore, but came not against them.

  “Too many of them have been slain,” said the vikings. “They like not our heavy spears.”

  Before climbing into the trireme the jarl made them row to her beak, that he might examine well its form and its power for striking a blow, and that he might also look more closely at the figurehead.

  “It is much waterworn,” he said. “She is the wise woman among the gods of the Romans. She will care not much that the hammer of Thor is on the fore deck.”

  The small boat was hoisted to its place and the vikings began to speak more freely of the trireme by her new name of The Sword.

  “Up with the sails,” commanded Ulric. “The wind is fair. We will go southward this night, and we will seek the Saxon village that was described to me by Olaf, the son of Hakon. But we will not go too fast or too far, lest we may pass it in the dark.”

  “There may be our kinsmen there that need our aid,” said Knud the Bear. “Seax in hand it would be a pleasure to meet Romans.”

  Now did they begin to discover how much more room there was to walk in from place to place around the ship, but the younger men praised their own prudence for this more than that of Ulric the Jarl. Moreover, to please all, he caused to be brought forth many weapons and much armor. These the men handled curiously, trying on the helmets and the mail and testing the weight of the shields. Garments, also, were given as the men would, and they laughed merrily at each other for the strangeness of their changed appearance.

  Well out from the land steered the jarl, not knowing the coast, and there was careful watching for breakers which might tell of shoals or rocks. He was learning, also, the sailing of this keel and her manner of answering the rudder.

  “She is swift,” he thought, “and she rideth well the waves. We build not yet such vessels in the Northland, though we have plenty of good timber. She will carry us safely into the Middle Sea, but there is room in her for more men. She requireth too many for her oars. I will sail rather than row, lest I breed too much discontent.”

  Far behind him now went out the last burning of the timbers of the good keel he had builded in the Northland, but upon the mast of this which carried him floated still the White Horse flag of the Saxons which had been given to The Sword by Hilda of the hundred years.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XII. Svein the Cunning Jarl.

  SAILING ON IN THE darkness, over an unknown sea, the trireme, which was now the viking ship The Sword, moved toward the dawn. None on board of her knew the low-lying coast which was in sight when the sun looked over the horizon.

  “We are nearer than I deemed,” said Ulric; but he was at the prow now, and an old Danish seaman was at the helm.

  “There are rocks hereaway at the right,” replied Tostig the Red, “but I can see houses and lines of palisades. The Britons build not such houses. They are like our own.”

  “There are fields, also, and cattle,” said Knud the Bear. “There are men on the beach. Let us sail in. Hark! War horns! We are waited for.”

  “It is a good harbor,” said Ulric. “There are four keels on the strand, but they are small. And there are boats. These are not Romans.”

  “They will deem that we are,” said Tostig. “Thy horn, O jarl.”

  “Not yet,” said Ulric. “We will go nearer. All rowers to the oars! Let down the sail!”

  Then came a surprise to those who were on The Sword, so very numerous were the warriors who came down to the shore outside of the lines of the palisades on the harbor side of the village. This, too, was seen to be larger as they drew nearer, and some of the houses were as great as was the home house of Brander the Brave.

  “It is as Olaf told me,” thought Ulric. “The Romans do well to fear the Saxons of this coast. We will be friends with these men.”

  The rowers had brought the ship well in and Ulric stood by the hammer of Thor. Three times be blew his horn, standing bareheaded, nor was there any Roman helmet worn by those who were with him. Moreover, the banner on the mast was the White Horse of the Saxons.

  Horns answered him, and then there were shouts of greeting, while some of the shore men pushed out in a small boat.

  “Come near!” said Ulric to these. “I am Ulric the Jarl, the son of Brander the Brave. We come in peace. Who are ye?”

  Upon his feet arose a short, squarely made man in the boat. He wore fine armor and there was a golden crest upon his steel headpiece.

  “I am Svein Jarl,” he responded. “We are Saxons all, and this town on the shore is Rika. Where didst thou win thy keel? I tell thee we are at peace w
ith the Romans, as we are with thee.”

  “So be it,” said Ulric; but then he told of Olaf and of the Druids and of the triremes and of the Roman camp.

  “Strong tryst between me and thee,” said Svein. “Thou hast done well. Olaf would never make peace because they slew his father, as did they thine. They would crucify thee because of thy trireme. But word came to me that the Roman consul Licinius is in Britain, and I have sent him bodes, making agreement. We are at war only with the rebellious Britons, not with his own. We are too few to contend with Rome. Land thou and thine if thou wilt, but see that thou sailest away quickly.”

  “I understand thee,” said Ulric. “I am but one trireme against more than one if the consul sendeth them. But we will not land here. I will go to thy house in greeting, but no more.”

  “Come,” said Svein. “I like thy flag, and I was thy father’s sure comrade. The son of Brander is welcome to the house of Svein Jarl.”

  Small boats from the ship were ready, and in one went Ulric to the shore, taking with him many men in the other boats, for he thought: “I know not Svein well, and Olaf spoke ill of him. He is a friend of the Romans.”

  So said the vikings who remained on the ship, and they kept good watch, saying to one another:

  “We like it not that our jarl should thus venture himself. How know we what is behind yonder palisades?”

  Hearty and kindly were the words spoken to Ulric and his Saxons by the warriors who met them at the beach. Neither did Svein seem to lack in any wise, but walked on toward the palisades, bidding the newcomers to follow. At the side of Ulric the Jarl now walked a tall man and large, in full armor, but wearing over his shoulder a bearskin.

  “I am Sigurd, the son of Thorolf,” he said. “I am a Northman, like thyself. The greater part of Svein’s men are Danes, as he is. I am not with him, save that my keel was wrecked and I owe him for hospitality. But I am free, having fought for him against the Britons.”

  “Sail thou with me,” said Ulric. “There is room in The Sword. Share thou fight and prizes by land and sea. Thou art welcome.”

  “I will put my hands in thine and be thy man,” said Sigurd. “Mark thou this, then. When we pass the gate of the palisades many will come and range themselves with thee and me, for they are as I am and would depart from this place. Thou hast thine ax. Be thou ready to smite with it, as will I and mine.”

  Then those who looked upon the face of Ulric saw that it became white and that his eyes were fiery, flashing blue light, and they thought, but spoke not. “The jarl is angry! Trouble cometh. We will watch if this is a place of swords.”

  Then again they looked and he seemed taller and his face was red and his eyes were full of glittering, and some trembled, for they said each to his mate: “Seest thou? It is the Odin wrath! Lift thy shield! War cometh!”

  Open swung a wide gate in the palisades and Svein marched in, turning to beckon, while many warriors closed in line with the company of Ulric and his Saxons; but there were others who remained behind and prevented some from closing the gate. Even as Sigurd had said, when he lifted his hand and made a sign forty and four more who were among Svein’s garrison walked along, spear in hand, until they seemed of one band with Ulric’s.

  But a sound came loudly, and then another—and another.

  Svein stood still and blew upon his war horn, and it was a command to his Danes that they should form as spearmen. From behind a wide house rang joyously the note of a Roman trumpet, and a line of legionaries, headed by an officer, began to show itself. The third sound was the angry word of Ulric, the son of Brander.

  “Svein Jarl,” he shouted, “I know thee. Thou art Svein, son of Hedrig, my father’s enemy. Me thou wouldst betray to these wolves of Rome, but thou art not able. I will give thee and them to the valkyrias.”

  “Hold thou, Ulric the Jarl,” said Svein. “Thou art caught in a trap. Thou shalt but give them up their trireme. Thou mayest remain with me. Lay down thy weapons. Thou and thine are prisoners. We may deal with thee as we will.”

  So said the officer of the legionaries, mockingly, coming forward, followed by his force. It was but fourscore of men, and they were the garrison of this village, with Svein and his Danes and his Jutlanders.

  But Ulric was a good captain, and he and his Saxons were stepping backward and the gate was still open. Then fell quickly three men who strove to shut it, but they went down by the spears of Sigurd’s Saxons.

  At that the Romans charged, and their charge was that of warriors expecting to conquer; but Ulric, the son of Brander, was taller by the head than any among them. He waited not, but stepped out and met them in front of the triangle formed by his men, and the flashing of his ax was like the swiftness of the lightning, and his wrath was terrible. Fast flew the spears on either side, but the Saxons threw first, not waiting, and there were quickly gaps in the Roman line.

  Now charged Svein and his followers with shouts of victory, save that a number of them were Northmen and had no heart to this work. These fell back muttering, and one of them said, loudly:

  “Ulric, son of Odin, win thou this fight. The gods of the North be with thee. I shed no blood in any such quarrel. I am not a Roman.”

  Nevertheless the Saxons from The Sword had been too much outnumbered if it had not been for Sigurd and his sailors, for these fought like men who were to die if they did not conquer.

  Wonderful was the havoc wrought by the ax of Ulric, and the Romans fell away from before him. Then picked he up a pilum from the hand of a slain legionary and he cast it with his might. Well had it been for Svein the Jarl if his shield had been ready, for the pilum passed through him at the waist and he would betray no more Saxons. So fell the Roman officer at the hand of Tostig, but the charge had been well made, and only half of Ulric’s own men were with him when his triangle was beyond the gate, marching to the shore.

  “Odin!” he shouted. “We have slain three for one! Let us burn their keels.”

  But some of the men who had refused to fight for Svein came around by another way and joined the Saxons. Well was it, they said, that the Roman officer had forced Svein to strike at once, for there were hundreds of Danish warriors in the upland, and if these had gathered, none of the crew of The Sword could have escaped.

  Even now there was preparation for swift following, but Ulric’s men took every boat, and the nearest keels on the beach had already fire in them, put there by Sigurd’s men and the other Northmen who had deserted Svein. These ships were also pushed out into the water that they might burn more surely.

  Within the palisades every Saxon who had fallen wounded had already been slain by the Danes, but these had been sorely smitten and they had lost their cunning jarl.

  Back now were Ulric and his men on board the trireme, and count was made. “Thirteen heroes who went to the land with us,” he said, “have gone to Valhalla. With them went six of Sigurd’s company. Therefore, we have ninety more strong men to handle so large a ship and to hold spears in battle. The gods are with us, for they have given us a brave combat and a victory.”

  The keels from the shore were burning hotly, and there might be no pursuit, but Ulric commanded to lift the sail of The Sword, the trireme, and to steer for the open sea.

  “Now do I know,” said Knud the Bear, “that Thor came on board with his hammer. We needed more men for the oars, to change hands when one company is weary. It is good to have the gods with us in such a case.”

  The wind blew off the land and the ship sailed away gallantly, steering southward, and Ulric said to those who asked him:

  “We will not again set foot upon the shore of Britain. Our work here is done. We will avoid all keels, friend or foe, that may come near us. We go to the Middle Sea, and our voyage, thus far, is prosperous.”

  * * *

  The sun shone brightly in the Northland all that day, but Hilda sat by the fire in the hall of the house of Brander, and she was shivering. Near her sat Oswald, the harper.

  “It is cold,”
she said. “This fire is but red coals and ashes. Let them bring wood.”

  So sat she while they went for wood, and she gazed mournfully into the great heap of gray and red, dotted with dying embers.

  “I saw not the ship,” she muttered. “But I saw Roman helmets. There is Ulric, and the Romans go down before him. Where is the ship? I see her now, and she is burning. How, then, can Ulric sail away? I read it not, save that he is not slain. O that I could look upon his face again before I go! How is it that I cannot see the ship? But I knew that she would never come again. It is well that he hath smitten the Romans so soon. I will go to my room, for I am old and the ice is out of the fiords and the buds are open and I have seen the grass again. I need but the one token more and then they may lay me away as I have bidden them. Ulric, my beloved! Thou art as my son!”

  * * *

  CHAPTER XIII. Hilda of the Hundred Years.

  “HAST THOU EVER TAKEN a keel into the Middle Sea, O Sigurd, son of Thorold?” asked Ulric of his gigantic friend.

  They twain stood together upon the after deck and The Sword was sailing but slowly, for the wind was contrary.

  “More than once, O jarl,” responded Sigurd. “I have seen the Greek islands; I went up the Adriatic Sea with Alfkel the Sea King. We had five keels, and we took great spoil, but only three of our ships ever again touched the shore of the Northland.”

  “What befell the two that returned not?” asked the jarl. “Was it a fortune of the sea?”

  “Not so,” said Sigurd. “In that sea the triremes of Cæsar are too many. But thou hast need to consider thy present course. Thou wilt do well to coast along the land easterly after thy last sight of Britain. Between these islands and Spain is a great sea full of storms. Try it not with a straight passage, but go from point to point, going on shore when thou wilt.”

  “I think it is good counsel,” said the jarl. “I have heard of that sea. As to the Adriatic, I would enter it in due season, but first I would see Rome itself, if I might.”