by Jason Born
For the first time I noticed a cluster of women and children tied up on the slope. I did not know what made them different from the villagers who were allowed to fight the fire. Norsemen were beginning to stand around so I knew it was almost time to leave. I told the nearest one to start getting us on board and to take a count. We would leave in mere moments.
Leif overheard my order and added, “Get the prisoners on board, too.”
Leif was crouched working on something near Huarwar’s body so I walked over to stand behind him and investigate. He made a wooden signpost that would stand about three feet high when driven into the ground. Now it laid on it the ground and Leif was using his finger to paint letters with Huarwar’s blood. I could not read at the time and had no idea what it said. “What are you doing?”
“We’re renaming the village,” Leif answered. “The elder I negotiated with at the end of the battle agreed to take over from Arwel in leading the community.”
“What are you talking about? Why do you care who leads the village?”
“Halldorr, I’ve told you that I intend to be a leader of men. I won’t stand for a leader who puts himself ahead of his men. Bjarni is such a man. Arwel is also such a man. Their new leader is not. He argued against taking any gold from us. He said that they should storm our ships while we were not in our mail. That man is a leader.”
“So what were you saying to them at the end of the battle? Why did Huarwar meet your sword and the others did not?”
“I simply told them that we would pay them gold to put down their weapons. That’s when the fat man threw down his rusted axe. After that, I told him he would get all the gold because he seemed like a good leader. I then let him know that I thought he should lead the village. My bargain was that I would let him live in riches as chief and we would take the all the women and children to sell them into slavery. The other Welshmen told him not to agree, but his greed took over. He didn’t deserve to live.”
“I then talked to the true leader. We bargained as equals and I finally gave my word that not another would be killed and only Arwel’s family and Huarwar’s family would be sold into slavery. That’s who you saw bound on the hillside.”
“The prisoners are stowed. Forty-one of us are now onboard. Only you and Leif and I are not,” reported the man I sent to load everyone.
Leif stood up and started pounding his sign into the ground with a heavy rock. “Good,” I said, “Leif and I are coming now. Get on board yourself and make way.” The man nodded and returned to the boat. Leif gave the post two more whacks with the rock and stood back to admire his work. “What does it say?”
“Sweyn’s Ey. I named it after the man who will be the king of this great island someday.” We turned and ran, jumping aboard the boat that had already begun to pull away from the dock. Behind us the villagers didn’t even take notice of our departure. Their new chief had them working to quiet the last of the flames. Off our port side the first light of dawn painted the sky a brilliant mix of reds, oranges, and browns and we would make our way back to the auction yards of Dyflin.
One day later we met with Dragon Skull and Charging Boar on the same white sand beach guarded by the majestic hill where we camped on the outgoing leg of our journey. I had taken to calling the new boat The Whale because of all it carried. It wasn’t really a longboat as we Norse would have built; it was crafted in a different style altogether, but it would bring enough money in Dyflin to buy us a third longboat. I suggested, and Leif agreed, that Magnus should command The Whale and its subsequent replacement.
Magnus and Randulfr had taken the Boar and Skull respectively, up to Aber Tawe, now called Sweynsey, on the night of our attack. They performed their part exceptionally well by getting close enough to have Brandr and Loki launch burning arrows into the village, but not so close as to allow Arwel to view the numbers aboard. To make it more convincing we even posted wooden sentries on the ships to fill out their numbers. They were to start a few small fires and then draw back when the villagers began attacking from land. However, they were to (and did) make themselves an attractive target by tarrying too long. That’s when Arwel took the bait and followed them to sea. Our two ships slowly headed southeast in order to take their pursuers away from the withdrawal of those of us who assaulted from land. When Arwel chased them far enough, Magnus and Randulfr opened up their sails and flew ahead. Eventually, the men from Sweynsey gave up to return home and the Boar and Skull made a wide circle to return to the beach with the white sand. It was a risky plan, especially if they had no wind, but they did and it worked.
Today, I was at the helm of Charging Boar just off the stern of Dragon Skull with Magnus and The Whale following close behind. Brandr was doing an admirable job of washing the pig manure out of my hold every day, but I would be glad when we reached Dyflin this evening. Our boat carried the skraelings, who would be sold as thralls in Dyflin, we had captured – including the Scot. Even now he sat next to me on the planks of the steering deck holding my new treasure chest. His straight black hair waved in the Irish Sea breeze. “It’s been over two days since we left Aber Tawe and you said you would take these chains off me when we left! Remove them now!”
“I can’t because I don’t have the key anymore. It was lost when we left in the boat,” I answered not looking down at him. This was true the key was lost. “You’ll have to wait until we get to Dyflin for a smith.”
“You lost the key! That is pathetic.”
“Pathetic or not, you have to wait.” Arwel was right, he was a stubborn one. I could tell he was clever though. If he could be tamed his new master would have a great asset in this thrall. “So when did you learn to speak Welsh?”
“How did you know I spoke Welsh? We’ve only spoken in Scottish.”
“I was in the village the day of our raid and heard you shouting at Huarwar. I couldn’t make much sense of what you were saying so I figured it was Welsh.”
The boy considered my answer and then answered my question with a shrug, “I didn’t know any before arriving in Aber Tawe. I had to learn it.”
I pondered his response and looked down at the boy. He was not the typical thrall we had captured in past raids. This boy was self-assured, confident. He seemed well spoken. He was different.
He picked at the chest with one of his dirty fingers, “I hope you don’t think you are going to take me from one prison just to be auctioned off to another.” So he knew or at least suspected. He was smart. I decided that I wouldn’t answer him and stared out to the horizon. I was his captor after all. “Your silence tells me you do think you’ll auction me off. Does your father know you’ve become nothing but a common thief, trading in the lives of Scots and Welsh?”
I ended my silence immediately with a caustic retort, “My real father is dead, murdered, my second father exiled me for thirteen years from his jarldom, and my third father yet lives. Each of them would be proud that I trade on the lives of Scots and Welsh. In fact, my third father will lead me in a matter of weeks to trade on the lives of English dogs and I hope to make handsome profits because of it. Skaelings like you, thralls like you, are just cattle. I don’t make it that way, it just is. If the situation were reversed you would enslave me. Don’t argue with me about fate!”
He gave some thought to my biting reply and then came back with one that surprised me, “Truthfully, I don’t have anywhere else to go. My father and mother were killed by my fellow Scotsmen. After killing my father and raping my mother and sisters, the men dragged me from our home and sold me into slavery. I have reason to hate my own people. I hate the Welsh because of men like Arwel and Huarwar. I hate the English, because they are English. So you and I are the same.”
I hated the idea, but he was right. He was just another bastard out in the world trying to survive. He had let hate fill him where the love from his family was torn away. I had let hate and rage fill my life where my father’s love had been, where Erik’s care had been, where Freydis so easily turned against me. All I
cared about now was profit. The world was not fair and I would take from it whatever I could. “What do you propose?” I asked.
“When we get to Dyflin, take me as your own slave. I will kill and take the damned English with you and your third father. We will profit together.”
“I can profit by selling you in the auction and not having to feed you.”
“You will keep me until I have earned you enough to buy my freedom. The price I agree to pay will be twice what you could have earned from auction plus the expenses of feeding me,” said the Scot.
It was a fair offer. I would be paid back for all my expenses, plus a return. I couldn’t agree that easily though, “Who says we are negotiating?”
“You just did,” he answered with a smile.
He was smart and I liked him. “You may pay me three times what I would have earned from your auction.” I would be happy with two times, but couldn’t allow him the upper hand.
“Great bargaining with you, Halldorr.” He stuck out his manacled hand to secure the agreement. “I am Fife.”
I shook his hand, wondering what I had just gotten into, and returned my thoughts to the sea.
CHAPTER 6
It had been three weeks since we returned from our strandhogg in Wales. We were well-rewarded for our work. The Whale was sold to a merchant in Dyflin who dealt in wool to merchants from Flanders. He also bought the wool from our sheep. We paid Irish peasants living outside the city wall ½ pence per sheep to shear them. After the shearing, Tyrkr and Cnute saw them to auction where they fetched a fine price. A wealthy Norse nobleman new to Dyflin who was trying to build a sheep farm on his land bought the whole lot. The pigs went at auction as well. We divided the chickens and apples among each other for our own homes.
Proceeds from The Whale were used to buy a replacement. Magnus would be commanding the nicest ship in our fleet of three. It was only two seasons old with a robust keel that stretched five feet longer than Dragon Skull and eight feet longer than Boar. Many leaders would not allow one of their men to command a ship larger than their own, but I rather liked the Boar. It reminded me of my second father, the man who took me in, the man who sought revenge for my real father. And Leif, he was indifferent to such things. He wanted to command and lead men to do great deeds to explore new places. If those men stood on a boat with more rowing benches, so be it.
Leif and I saw to the selling of the thralls on the first Monday following our return. We wanted to be rid of them as soon as possible because taking care of slaves is expensive. They eat much and get sick easily. The children and young women brought the best prices as is typical. One woman in particular reminded me of Freydis and I was tempted to buy her for myself. But my love of profits surpassed the temptation and I let her go for the highest price paid for any thrall that day. Arwel’s wife brought the least amount. She was in her late forties and nearly as large as Arwel himself. She would not be much of a worker, but she could probably work in someone’s household sewing and mending clothing. Fife went to the slave auction with us, his hands now unchained. He was adamant that we would agree on what he would have brought in the auction. In his head, he even calculated an average price for all the boys sold. He was overly confident and I acted as if he aggravated me, but I liked him very much.
The men were paid their wages. Much of that went into the local taverns in the form of ale, mead, and women. Some, the wisest, upgraded their weapons or armor. We would now have two or three more with chain mail and another set of men with better, more durable leather jackets. After paying the men their share, Leif and I split the remainder equally. This was a profitable raid for us. I bought a new bow, again made of a single piece of yew but taller and more powerful than my last. Unstrung, it was taller than me, making it challenging to carry into the shield wall of a large battle. It would take several months of practice before I would have the strength to draw the bow back to my cheek. Leif spent some of his profits on a new helmet. He had the smith make the top of the dome out of a single piece of smooth, forged metal. The visor, with a nose guard and two circular holes for his eyes, was permanently fixed to the helmet with rivets. I preferred a simpler version with only a narrow, but strong, nose guard. I felt that my vision was too restricted with the eye holes meant to protect the cheeks. Leif then had a dragon riveted to the top of the helmet. The dragon was crouched at the front and looked like it was either going to spring upon or scorch his prey.
I too helped the smith earn his living. He made a new key for the lock on the chest I took from Arwel’s house. The carvings on the lid, I was told by a monk travelling through Dyflin, depicted a man named Jonah being swallowed by a whale. The monk told me he lived in the whale’s belly for three days and then the Christian God forced the whale to spit Jonah out to finish his mission. The four walls of the chest carried carvings which told the stories from the life of a king named David and his son Solomon. They were amazing stories of giants and betrayal. I learned that Solomon was the wisest man who ever lived and even he allowed his love for women ruin him and his kingdom. It was no wonder that I, a simple Norseman, had let Freydis so devastate my own life.
When we finally opened the intricate lid, I was not disappointed with the contents hidden beneath it. The pouch containing my own money was stowed away safely, but also several excellent pieces of his wife’s gold and silver jewelry. Loose coins stamped in kingdoms all over the world lay scattered across the bottom. Finally, another purse was drawn tightly closed around a large rectangular object. Its weight betrayed something of value, but I was more than a little disappointed when I discovered it was a book. I was told that many men valued books above all else, but such a thing could not bring me food or protect my men. I flipped through the pages, but I had not yet learned to read at that time. Several illustrations were impressive, so I decided to keep the book. I stowed it back in its purse and replaced all the items in the chest. I was wealthy and now had my own striking chest in which to keep my treasure.
Tyrkr, too, was wealthy in a way. With this raid he earned enough to buy his freedom from Leif earlier than I thought possible. He did use his pay to purchase freedom, but chose to continue to serve with Leif on Dragon Skull. Tyrkr had grown to love Leif’s leadership, as had the entire crew.
Looking off to starboard now, I saw the form of Tyrkr huddled under his cloak at the oar of the Dragon Skull. It had been raining all morning and Tyrkr still held out hope that he could stay dry. Most of us accepted today’s rain and the soaking we would get. I stood at the bow of the Boar thankful that it was a warm rain. My cloak was stowed in the hold as I hoped that it would remain dry for the evening which may be cool. Our three ships were again carving through the waves efficiently. Caution demanded that we pull in our sails, so the men rowed; the rhythmic grate-slap producing music to my ears. We were past the summer solstice by several weeks and I was confident that the storm would not last as long as those brutal gusts that howl through winter.
I could barely make out Magnus aboard his new longboat through the veil of rain. Like the boat we stole from the town Leif named Sweynsey, we named the new boat The Whale, this time because of its size. His crew, despite being assembled in recent days, pulled the oars with skill. When word of our successful strandhogg spread through the city, we had no trouble finding men willing to travel and pillage with us. We had our choice of hopefuls and selected only the most experienced for our crews. With Magnus’s crew, Leif, Magnus, and I commanded a total of seventy-five men.
Thankfully, the rain began to slow, though the mist still obscured my view. I left my post at the bow and walked between the soaked men pulling their oars in unison. Fife sat on the end of one of the benches next to the gunwale. His short stature required this position on the outside edge of the ship so that he could reach the oar when it cut into the water. He was probably not helping the effort much, but he needed to develop his strength if was going to help me plunder. “Will I earn my freedom today?” Fife asked as he had every day since we left Dy
flin five days ago on our way to Kales.
“Not likely,” I answered in response, as I had each day. The men smiled at his sense of humor and kept rowing. No doubt this Scot would earn his freedom sooner than I wanted him to.
I stepped up to the rudder which Cnute handled quite ably, shoving the arm against the power of the sea. Over his shoulder, at our backs, I saw the clouds were beginning to separate. “We should be there soon,” Cnute said.
“Aye, we should. The weather is clearing to the west,” I said back. The rain was just a sprinkle now.
“It will be nice to see the rest of the flotilla with which we sail. I haven’t seen most of them since last night.” I nodded not saying anything. I sometimes wondered why Cnute chose to leave Greenland. By any conservative reckoning he would have been fairly successful as a crewman for Bjarni. Of course, it worked out for him so far. He too had become an affluent resident in Dyflin. Cnute would be even more prosperous if he didn’t like to consume so much mead and join in so many games of chance. But he was not the worst offender in the crew.