by Jason Born
“What do you call this place,” asked Leif.
“Give up your weapons chatty,” said the leader with an outstretched hand. I released the clasp of my belt and handed it over. The man’s arm dropped from the weight of the sword, saex, and axe. Leif did likewise. “Aber Tawe. It means mouth of the Tawe,” he answered pointing to the river behind us. His hand opened and he finished, “Now the gold.”
Leif was quick, “We’ll give you five coins now. We’ll then be happy to pay whatever the price of our goods happens to be.”
“You’ll pay ten coins for the privilege of buying today.”
Leif thought for a beat then said, “You are a good bargainer. You’ll get the ten coins.” Leif looked to me to pay the man. I didn’t mind since if this worked out properly I would get them back later. I reached beneath my tunic and fished ten coins from my purse. It’s amazing what gold does to people. When the men’s eyes fell on the sparkling coins they all smiled. They became friendly almost. “What is your name, sir?”
“Arwel. I am the chief of Aber Tawe.” He reached out to shake Leif’s hand.
“I am Leif and this is Halldorr. We are from Greenland.” Arwel was obviously unfamiliar with the place but didn’t care and kept looking at the coins in his left hand. He finally pulled out a pouch, dumped the coins in, and looped the pouch around his neck.
We spent most of the afternoon walking all over town buying barrels of ale and salted meat. A thin, filthy boy of about fourteen was working in a garden speaking rapidly in a nearly incomprehensible tongue. An equally filthy, though enormous, overseer was shouting insults at him and throwing tufts of dirt. Arwel saw our wandering eyes and answered our unasked question, “The boy’s a wild Scotsman. I bought him from a travelling merchant two years ago, but he’s stubborn and senseless. I beat him and beat him, but he won’t work. I sold him to Huarwar for half of what I paid. Terrible investment.” We shrugged and continued on through the town.
A number of the townsfolk carried our goods to the dock. When our shopping was complete we too returned to the dock. Arwel offered several of his men to load the provisions onto our ship, but Leif demurred, saying, “Like you Arwel, I am a cautious leader. You would not allow my men in your town; I will not allow your men on my boats. Thank you for the offer, however.” Arwel shrugged and again looked happy as Leif poured the agreed amount of coins into awaiting hands. “Tyrkr! Brandr! Form a line and pass these onto our ships.” One by one I started handing the goods to Tyrkr who walked and handed it to Brandr who handed it into the Skull. We said our goodbyes and left Aber Tawe with the tide.
Arwel stood on the quay and watched until we could no longer see the village. We pushed our boats further south until we were certain the village could no longer see the tops of our sails. We turned straight west into the wind and then looped north, hiding behind a point of land, beaching our boats in a hidden cove.
“Two hundred residents, I’d guess,” I said with all the men gathered around us on the beach.
“Aye,” Leif agreed. “That means about one hundred males. Eighty of them could fight, but only about sixty will. We would be outnumbered.” He bit his lip while thinking then added, “They’ll have their eyes to the sea tonight in case we come back. They will be ready for a fight.”
“So we’ll have to come at them from inland,” I said. “We are only about two miles from their village where we now stand. We should head straight inland past the village and then circle around and come in from behind. If we started the march now we would be well past Aber Tawe by nightfall.”
There was some murmuring as the men talked over the options of a sea or land assault. Decisions were made by Leif or me, but, with the exception of Tyrkr, our men were free so we wanted their thoughts.
Magnus, who loved the sea more than anything, said, “It must be from the sea. They will be ready, but so be it. We are warriors they are not, we can win.”
Cnute nodded in agreement, “If we travel by land we would have to transport everything on our backs all the way back here. Unless we kill almost all the men, we should expect to be pursued on foot.”
“True Cnute. I fear a sea raid will result in many of our own deaths, though,” Leif said looking around at the faces of his friends and fellow raiders. “But I don’t see any other way.” Leif paused a moment for more discussion but none came. “Then let’s go.” He stood and began walking to the Dragon Skull. The men followed him, but I stayed behind thinking of an idea.
“Why not both?” I called.
“Halldorr, you know we can’t divide our force like that. Even inexperienced townspeople will be able to cut us down if we don’t concentrate our forces,” Leif said with a fair amount of disgust.
“Think Leif! We can do both and still concentrate our force!” Leif looked surprised, but he and the men turned around to hear my plan.
Most of the men slept wherever they could find a soft patch of earth. Tyrkr and Leif spoke in quiet voices while I stared into the darkness of night in an unfamiliar forest. We would move again when tonight’s partial moon was two-thirds across the night sky. Not long now. We were a force of forty-four men prepared to attack Aber Tawe from their landward side. They wouldn’t expect it from that direction; especially if our other four men performed their roles correctly. Magnus and Brandr on the Boar. Randulfr and Loki on the Dragon Skull.
I went around our fireless camp and woke the men. As they shook the sleep from their minds, I whispered, “Make sure you are silent. No metal touching metal. We will move noiselessly to battle.” The men went about stowing any loose chains or rings, anything that could make a sound. When I was satisfied that was done correctly, I lined them up in two columns of twenty-two men each. We would stay together and each man had a partner so we did not separate in the unfamiliar terrain. “Once we begin moving, no talking. None!” I whispered as loudly as I dared. With that I looked at the moon. It had reached the agreed upon location in the sky, “Let’s move.”
The march was quiet. The moon gave us just enough light to pick our way toward Aber Tawe without separating or getting lost. At last we made the end of the woods to an open set of fields surrounding the town. I signaled with my hands and the two columns slowly spread into a wide, single line crouching at the edge of the fields. We could not see the quay from our vantage point, but had to assume that Arwel had men posted there. Across the fields thousands of small shoots from the spring planting a few weeks earlier stood a rear guard for the village. They did not shout a warning as our boot-clad feet crept among them. I looked down our line of warriors advancing with their shadowed, determined faces. The men carried their shields but kept their weapons contained to avoid any accidental clanging.
We reached the outermost fenced yards and sidled tightly against the walls to wait. Looking to the moon again I thought it had to be anytime now. Patience was difficult, but necessary. I had to relieve myself, but would wait. Our plan required a fair bit of timing which was admittedly dangerous in battle. If our boats encountered a problem we would be making a landward attack with no means of direct escape unless we could successfully take the two boats at the dock.
Time inched forward and the men fidgeted on their uncomfortable crouched legs. Some sat down next to the walls while we waited. The holes in my plan were becoming evident now as the light would approach soon if something didn’t happen. I gave Leif a worried expression, but he returned a most confident grin and squeezed my shoulder. He was a good, no, a great man. After I had explained my plan on the beach and the men accepted it, Leif declared I would lead the assault. Would it be an attack which ended with dozens of dead Norsemen?
Then a lone shout reached our ears from across the village by the quay. Then another shout. Now more men shouting. Our ships with their crews of two had made it! I held an outstretched hand to steady the men. We had made it this far, we had to wait just a little longer.
Slowly the village started to be illuminated from the seaward side. Men and women were screaming
now. Chaos. Then we heard the unmistakable voice of Arwel shouting orders in Welsh. I heard clanging blades and clamoring footsteps on the wooden dock followed by splashing. Patience. I still had to relieve myself. Wait.
Grating and slapping. Slapping and grating. Disorganized grating and slapping. Without looking I knew the untrained men of the village were manning the oars of the ship tied furthest out into the river. They were now driving off the Skull and the Boar. They were saving their village. Good. The splashing slowly faded and any shouting I heard were mostly the voices of women. The light and roar from the blazing buildings at the seaside grew and grew. I decided I would now slowly count to one hundred then we would move. I had to relieve myself.
. . . Ninety-nine . . . one hundred. I nodded down the line and our men jumped the wall in a single motion. As soon as our feet hit the other side each man drew his favorite weapon. In raids, mine had become my perfectly weighted sword with its brilliant artwork. We swept through the village in a rough line, occasionally splitting to circumvent a house or barn. Our aim was the quay. The light from the burning buildings reflected off our glistening swords, spears, and axes. I felt all powerful under my mail and helmet. One of our men hacked a barking mutt that stepped in his path; the first blood of the night.
We reached the crest of the slope that led down to the shore. Below us on the slope about eighty women and twenty men, old men and boys really, scrambled to put out the fires started by the arrows launched from our ships. We had any villager of fighting age in one place. We didn’t have to look over our shoulders. And these were good odds.
So focused were they on fighting the fires they didn’t even notice our presence until Cnute launched a spear into the man nearest him. The man caught the spear in the small of his back and stumbled into a blazing barn howling in pain. Several villagers turned to look up the hill in the direction from which the spear came. We must have been a fearsome sight, darkness behind us, our faces illuminated by the fires, weapons in hand. I raised my sword and clutched my shield shouting an angry war cry. The passion for battle enraged the men and we charged down the hill. Most turned to flee from our blades, but had nowhere to go. They were hemmed in by the burning buildings, the river, and the sea. Several of the older men faced us and certain death. One swung a wooden bucket with a rope handle at Tyrkr. He took the blow on his shield easily and stabbed the man’s stomach. The man crumpled to his knees and Tyrkr pulled his blade free, stepping past his victim. At least five more villagers fell in similar fashion.
A group of women made it to the river and were wading across to the east side. Eight men who must have been armed for a potential confrontation with us formed a semicircle covering their women’s and unarmed men’s escape route. Huarwar the Fat was one of them. He held an axe that, though it had been made to chop wood, clearly hadn’t been used in years. Leif shouted at the men to yield, first in Norse, then in Welsh. Of the eight, Huarwar was the only to promptly throw down his weapon. He was a coward. The other seven, a mix of five old men and two boys, stood firm. They looked sideways at Huarwar who stood still nervously looking back and forth.
We all stood there a moment silently staring at one another with wild eyes. The Welsh men looked us and at their fallen relatives with terrorized faces. We, their conquerors, surrounded them with raised weapons catching our collective breath. Then Leif lowered his sword. He looked in both directions along the line of Norsemen and soon we all lowered our weapons. Leif started calmly speaking in fluent Welsh while holding his sword down at his side. His composure belied the circumstances around him with many nearly-dead men screaming on the ground, roaring fires heating our faces, and shrieking women jumping into the river. Amidst all of it Leif talked to the semicircle of defenders like he was strolling through a meadow. Then he slowly stepped out alone from our line walking toward the armed men. They held their gazes fixed on Leif and focused the sharp points of their swords toward him. Still he approached. Leif stopped when he was two paces from Huarwar. He stopped talking and looked at Huarwar the Fat as if expecting a response. The other Welshmen were clearly shaking their heads no, shouting at the enormous man. Huarwar fidgeted uncertainly, then grinned and said something I could not understand. In reply, Leif shouted with rage in the foreign tongue and with terrible force sliced upward with his blade. His blow struck the gigantic side of Huarwar just above his waist on the left side. The cut continued in one swift motion diagonally across the man’s vast belly and finished its path by severing ribs on Huarwar’s right side before exiting. For his part Huarwar gave a confused look before tipping over backward like a tree falling in the forest.
Leif again lowered his bloody sword and looked at the rest of the frozen defenders arranged around him. He spoke in a soothing tone and soon a dialogue with the eldest man began. I recognized the man from the group who initially met us when we came to Aber Tawe during the day. He was one of the men arguing against allowing us ashore. In short order this man turned and gave an order to the other Welsh; all the defenders dropped their weapons to their feet. We had won without so much as a scratch on any of us.
And I lifted my chain mail, pulled down my trousers, and relieved myself. Laughter broke out amongst the men, Norse and Welsh alike. My urine cut a path through the dirt to one of the burning buildings and hissed as it met the flames.
“Tyrkr, take ten men and these Welshmen to gather up the women and children who are wading in the river. Move quickly. The women are not to be touched! Any man who touches a woman will find my sword buried in his belly!” ordered Leif. “When they get back here start them again on battling the flames. Focus everyone on the side by the dock, we want that boat.” Leif said something in Welsh to our captives and the eldest nodded then led his men with Tyrkr. “Halldorr, when you are done fighting the blaze with your piss, please take twenty men up into the village to gather our rewards. The rest of us will prepare the boat moored at the dock for departure. We need to be at sea before first light!”
Leif was right; we should be gone before dawn to maximize our own safety. I divided my men to get our tasks done quickly. Fifteen went to gather the sheep from the pasture on the hillside. While there may have been fifty or more sheep, their task was not that daunting. A barn at the end of the pasture contained fodder for the animals. Any rustling of their food would bring the sheep scrambling into the barn. From there it was just a matter of driving them to the ship in one mass – get the first one moving and the rest would follow.
The rest of us went by twos from house to house and barn to barn to gather valuables. My first stop was Arwel’s home. I knew right where to go since he so graciously pointed it out on our earlier tour. Cnute went through the shelves and bedding finding small items to place in his haversack. I went straight to the hearth and kicked at some of the stones to try to find a loose one which would indicate a hiding place. Nothing. So maybe Arwel was cleverer than I thought.
I took off my helmet and hung it on my belt at my back to get a better look around. Plain sight! A small locked chest sat in the corner behind the door through which we entered the home. Of course, Arwel assumed that being the chief meant that no one would dare steal from him. I hefted the trunk onto a table. The chest itself had some value as it was intricately carved with scenes from the Christian stories. Arwel probably had the key with him and I did not want to damage the chest, so it would have to wait. I picked it up once again and Cnute and I moved onto the next yard.
A small, dilapidated barn stood between Arwel’s house and the house on this next lot. Cnute and I were going to walk right past it figuring it held little value, when we heard rustling from inside. We set down our baggage and with weapons drawn kicked open the door. A startled bird flapped noisily past us losing a feather or two in the process. Nothing else came out at us. I peered into the dark and in the corner saw the dirty Scot boy chained to a post cowering in his bed of straw with bird droppings in his hair. My sword went back into its scabbard and I said, “Cnute you can skip the house on t
his lot, it’s the fat man’s who was killed by Leif. There will be nothing of value so move to the next yard. I’ll get him.” Cnute picked up his sack and swiftly moved on.
I stepped into the barn and found the keys to the boy’s chains hanging on the wall. I had learned some of his tongue in the years since Greenland and told him, “Huarwar’s dead.” It had the desired effect. The boy stood ready to flee his oppressors. He probably didn’t know he would just be sold again at an auction in Dyflin, but his hope would help me control him. I unlocked the chain from the post. Keeping his hands shackled, I led him out into the yard. I lied that he should remain chained so the villagers thought he was now my prisoner. He seemed to accept that explanation and followed gladly, even carrying Arwel’s trunk for me.
By the time we finished our thieving and returned to the dock, our Norsemen shepherds had eighty-three sheep loaded on the boat. It would be a tight ride. Even though the sheep should have already been sheared, they all had thick woolen coats. They would bring that much more at auction in Dyflin. I set the boy in the midst of the sheep and told him to tend the flock and mind my chest. With the box atop his crossed legs he nodded with a dirty smile. I returned to the shore where the villagers had done a good job of keeping the fire closest to the dock and our means of escape at bay. They had beaten it back so successfully that only three small buildings burned and Tyrkr had allowed them to fight the fire on the village side as well so it did not spread to their homes.