I had Siggi pull in two miles downstream from the island which was the main citadel. I took Beorn Fast Feet and Erik Long Hair with me. I would be scout once more. The last time I had been here Ulf Big Nose had been alive. I hoped that I would not let him down. While we headed up stream, I had the two crews put on their war faces. It was noon and we had half a day to scout out the target and get back to the drekar. We would then row up the river.
We ran along the greenway. I had my shield over my back and Heart of Ice in my hand. This was the land of Charles the Bald. I knew that the Bretons made war on the Franks. We could expect enemies from both side. We passed no one and that told me that the people lived in fear. The river was a source of life yet we saw no fishermen. I began to worry that Namnetis would not be a rich target. I smelled the town before I saw it. The river brought the stench of humanity. I detected the smell of wood smoke and we moved cautiously and carefully up the river bank.
We spied the island. There were small vessels tied up close to the island. There were two bridges leading from the island to the north bank. There were guards there. I saw the flash of sunlight on their helmets. I heard the tolling of a bell. They had a church and prayers were being held. We had somewhere to attack. The southern channel was wide. We had passed along it when we had raided Andecavis. That was where their ships lay. There would be rich pickings there. I led my scouts back down the river. We had two miles to row upstream and I could not see the ships moving downstream after dark.
I gathered the Hersir and Jarl Thorbolt on the river bank. “We row upstream. The ‘Wild Boar’ will take the southern channel and attack the island from that side. We will take the northern bridge. We will destroy the bridge and we will be safe on the island. There is a church and there will be treasure. Jarl, you and your men will take what they have on their quayside. There will be ships there. Some may be loaded. If they are then capture them and we can sail them back. Secure the southern side. My warriors are more numerous. We will sack the town.”
I saw them nod.
“Gunnar Stone Face, you will need to take the land end of the bridge and slay the guards there. If you can damage the bridge then so much the better. Take axes.”
“Aye Jarl Hrolf.”
“Captains, have the drekar turn around while we take that which they have. I will sound a horn three times when it is time to leave.” As my men prepared their faces for war I went to Siggi. “I want you to lay the drekar against the bridge and then, while we raid, turn it around so that we face downstream again.” He nodded. I saw he was nervous. “I will have my men damage the bridge at the land end. It is the other bridge which worries me. People can escape but they can also send for reinforcements. I will leave the horn on board. If there is danger, then sound it three times.”
“Aye Jarl Hrolf.”
The river was wide enough for us both to row together. We silently slid up the powerful river. The men had to work hard and we could not use a chant to help. I saw the young, untried warriors as they struggled. It was the older hands, their father and brothers which kept the beat. The smell of the town drifted down to us. The noises of the people could be heard. With no sail and no moon, we were just a dark shadow passing over the water. The guards on the bridge would be watching for danger from the north and the men of the Count of Vannes. The Vikings of Raven Wing Island were a distant memory. It had been more than ten years since Jarl Gunnar Thorfinnson had sailed to raid these waters.
Jarl Thorbolt’s drekar began to edge right as it headed for the moored ships on the riverside. I hoped that we would strike at the same time but if not then we would manage. The bridge was made of wood and I could see through the supporting beams. I went to the prow and raised my sword. I had to judge the moment well. I dropped my sword. Siggi put the steering board over and the oars from the landward side were drawn in. The oars on the steerboard side crabbed us towards the bridge. Erik Bergilsson was the ship’s boy tasked with securing the drekar to the bridge. I stood by his shoulder.
As we bumped next to the bridge there was a shout as the dozing sentry was awoken. Erik and I leapt together. I had my shield around my back. I grabbed hold of one of the bridge rails and sprang over. The sentry I had awoken shouted an alarm and ran at me with his spear. I grabbed the haft in my left hand and rammed Heart of Ice through his middle. Casting him aside I ran to the gate. It was open and, even as I ran, I saw the two guards trying to close it. The gap grew inexorably smaller. If they put the bar across it then it would delay our entry. A heartbeat before the gap closed completely I hurled my left shoulder and the whole weight of my body at the middle of the gates. They burst open and I struggled to keep my feet. The men who had been closing the gate had not managed to do so and they lay like stranded fish on the cobbles. I brought my sword over and hacked across the neck of one warrior as I took out my seax and ripped it across the throat of another.
Then I was alone no longer as Folki and Arne led the rest of my men to join me. They finished off the other sentries. Pandemonium reigned. I could hear, from the south, the sound of alarm as townsfolk spilled from their houses. The men had weapons but they would be hampered, for a while at least, by their families. The word Viking inspired terror in women and children. They would be fleeing.
I pulled my shield around and raised my sword, “Clan of the Horse!” I had over fifty warriors with me and more than thirty were experienced. We spread out through the town. We had never raided this town and they did not know what to expect. It soon became apparent that there was no real garrison in the town. It was a town watch. As we headed towards the church the men we slew had no mail. Most avoided us and, when they saw the fierce warriors heading for them chose evasion rather than confrontation.
Beorn Fast Feet lived up to his name and he raced ahead of us. As he reached the church the door opened and priests burst out, their arms full of the treasures of the church. Two dropped them and ran deeper in to the town. The other two were slain by Beorn. As I passed him I shouted, “Collect the treasure and take it to the drekar.” I led my men to pursue the two priests. They headed for a large hall. I saw others heading there too. Arrows flew through the air. One clanged off my helmet before I managed to pull up my shield. Three arrows thudded into it. They did not penetrate very far. They were using hunting arrows. Rather than making us slow, the flurry of arrows made us move quicker to get close to the walls of the hall.
The two priests were the last ones who made it inside. The bar was dropped into place. I stood with my back against the hall. I knew there would things of value inside but I had to weigh that up against the men I might lose if I tried to take it. I pointed with my sword. “Arne, take half of the men and begin to gather from the shops and houses to the west of the town.”
“Aye Jarl. “
“Folki, fetch kindling and place it near to the door. Fire the hall then take your men and search the eastern end of the island. Erik Long Hair, come with me and we will see how Jarl Thorbolt is doing.”
As soon as we left the safety of the wall arrows, stones and throwing spears were hurled at us. It was dark and we were shadows. Most missed but even those that hit did little damage. My shield stopped most and those that struck me hit my mail. They were not thrown by warriors. It was an irritation rather than a danger.
We were soon away from danger and we met the men from the ‘Wild Boar’ . “How goes it, Eystein the Wild?”
“We have taken two merchant men with full holds. The rest we have sunk. Jarl Thorbolt sent us to see if you needed aid.”
I shook my head. “Return to your drekar and fire the buildings at the southern side of the river. It will cause confusion and delay pursuit.”
“Aye jarl.”
As we turned to return I heard my horn sound three times. “Erik, it is time to go!”
We hurried back towards the hall. I saw that Folki and his men had managed to set fire to the door. It would take some time for the fire to catch hold but it served its purpose. Those inside were t
oo busy with the fire to hurl stones and spears at us.
“Back to the drekar.”
There were ten of us. We did not run. I heard, as we approached the river, the sound of hooves. They were coming from the eastern end of the island. I saw the first hint of false dawn as the sky lightened. The town had been laid out by Romans and although the buildings were no longer Roman the wide cobbled streets gave us a good view. I saw the horsemen pounding towards us. They had spears and shields.
“Shield wall!”
I knelt next to Folki, Erik, Karl the Singer and Knut the Quiet. We poked our swords over the top of our shields. The other five laid their shields above our heads. We blocked the street. The horsemen came at us as a mob and not a line. I knew horses. Unless they were well trained and knew how to jump they would not hit us. They would try to avoid us. The leading rider discovered this as his horse’s hooves skidded and skittered on the cobbles as it tried to stop. The rider flew from the saddle and hit Asbjorn Sorenson’s shield. I heard the Frank scream as he was hacked to death by my men.
The horse which had refused to charge us turned to flee away from the smell of blood. It, effectively blocked the street and the other riders were forced to stop.
“At them!” Smoke was drifting from the south as the quay caught fire and the burning hall burned even more. The ten of us leapt to our feet and charged the horsemen. With their impetus halted they were busy trying to control their mounts. These horses were not large ones and I brought my sword sideways to hack into the side of a rider whose skittish horse was trying to rear. He fell to the ground and I slapped his horse’s rump with the flat of my sword. I heard the horn sound three more times. I punched my shield into the muzzle of a horse as I hacked into another rider’s leg. “Back to the drekar!”
Riderless horses were milling around and six riders lay dead or dying. We moved backwards, always facing the enemy as we headed to the gate.
Siggi shouted, “Hurry jarl! There are men heading downstream!”
I knew that meant they would try to stop us before we reached the sea. We hurled ourselves aboard. I saw that there were sacks, chests and captives strewn about the deck. Siggi was showing his inexperience. They should have been brought aboard and stored.
“Move these boxes and sacks! Have the captives taken to the prow. Get the oars ready!”
Siggi suddenly realised that he should have done that, “Sorry, jarl.”
“You are learning, Siggi, and you did warn us of danger. If they have sent men downstream they may use fire.”
I knew that the Franks had war machines capable of throwing rocks and fire. If they had those on the river bank, then we would be in danger until we could make the middle of the river. As we cleared the island I saw ‘Wild Boar’ safely in the middle of the river. She was heading to sea. True dawn had broken and I saw riders heading to the mouth of the estuary. I spied then, what had been hidden in the dark, there was a tower. Fortunately, by the time we passed it, we were six hundred paces from it. Even so I saw something fly through the air and land two hundred paces from our steerboard side. My instincts had been right. There had been a war machine there. I clutched my horse amulet and thanked the Allfather.
Chapter 9
The young untried warriors had all done well. They had, with one exception, survived. Harold Bergilsson had been wounded by a warrior with an axe. He had died on the way home and we had buried him. Going A-Viking was not without its risks. The raid had, however, been a success. We had grain and we had riches. There was little mail from the raid and the swords were poor but the young warriors who wished to follow my son could now afford their own helmet and some mail.
As they were unloading the two drekar Siggi Far Sighted came, somewhat shamefacedly to me, “I am sorry, Jarl Hrolf. Sven the Helmsman told me that I had to ensure that whatever we took was stored but I was too concerned with escaping the horsemen.”
“We all make mistakes, Siggi. The difference is that when you and I make them they can have a much more dangerous effect. Do not dwell on it. Learn.”
“I will jarl. I now see that Sven had far more skills than I recognised.”
The summer was a fine one. All of our crops went well. The rains came and the people flourished. I spent more time with my son, Alain of Auxerre and the new horsemen we were training. The horse gyrus at Gilles’ farm was a pleasant place to be. It was close to the sea and we found that exercising horses in the water and on the sand not only made them stronger, they also enjoyed the swimming. The young riders had focus. The raid and Harold’s death had shown them the dangers of warfare. Now they learned the dangers of riding a horse with weapons. Alain had great skills as a teacher. He made sure that they could all ride well before he let them ride with a shield and a sword. The first time he allowed them to try a helmet two fell from their horses when their helmets slipped over their eyes. They began to realise it was not as easy as my horsemen made it appear.
Ragnvald became impatient with them. I took him to one side. “You will not go to war with these young warriors for another year at least. It would be like throwing away their lives. They are like you when you first learned to walk. You take tiny steps and you fall over more than you walk. They will learn from their mistakes.”
“But we cannot sit idle while others fight for us.”
“When Alain of Auxerre says that your warriors are ready for war they can wear mail and fight alongside us. Until then we use them as scouts with just a throwing spear, sword and small shield. They can gain experience of war that way.”
He appeared mollified, “But can they ride wherever Alain of Auxerre and his men ride?”
“Aye.”
Gilles had been listening. “Ragnvald, I rode behind your father for many years. He wore mail and fought and I tended his horse. I think that has made me a better warrior. Have your young men watch Alain of Auxerre’s horsemen.”
Gilles was respected by all the young warriors for he was the finest horseman. It was said that he could speak to horses and they to him. I knew of no other who understood horses as he did. His horses were the best in any herd. Dream Strider’s colts had produced offspring that were both bigger and stronger. That, allied to his skills gave us an advantage.
Each month brought more young men to maturity. The work on their fathers’ farms or ships gave them strong muscles. When they trained to fight, they put those muscles to good use. It was Arne Four Toes and Erik Long Hair who trained my young shield wall. The late summer rang to the sound of sword on shield as they practised. The shield wall did not happen overnight. It needed training and practise. They also practised with bows. Neither the Saxons nor the Franks used a bow to any extent. In a battle our archers would win for they had superior skills.
We did not raid in Haustmánuður as we normally did. We had no need. The Allfather had been kind and the fields yielded good crops. Bagsecg had plenty of iron and his forges roared late into the evening. Babies were born and houses were built. My tower was finished as was the church. We still had stone left and we took that to Bárekr’s Haven to begin work on a tower there. As the weather changed and the days shortened I was happy; in contrast my son was not.
I realised the reason that my son was also unhappy because he was envious that of his young warriors had taken brides. A Viking was ready to make sons as soon as he could hold a sword. I knew that my son was torn between those urges and the focus he needed to be a leader. I took him to one side after he had berated Bjorn Audunsson during a training session. Bjorn had made a mistake, that was all.
“Ragnvald you are unhappy inside.”
His eyes flashed in surprise, “How did you know?”
“It is a skill I have always had. I know men’s hearts by their actions. Bjorn made a mistake. If you harangue him like a fish wife you will break the bond between a leader and rider. It was not Bjorn that made you angry. It was you. You see your young men with women and you are envious yet you will do naught because you wish to be a leader.”
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br /> He shook his head, “How do you know such things? I have only just seen them in myself.”
“I was young once and not that long ago. There is no harm in having a wife and being a leader. You can do both.”
He looked at the ground, “I have not seen one yet that I wish.” His eyes met mine, “Is there something wrong with me?”
“No. Do not worry about it. The Norns webs are complicated. They have spun for you but they weave intricate threads for leaders such as we. Your mother was taken as a slave and, until she came to me, I did not know that she was the one intended for me. Be patient. Next time you feel angry imagine that the warrior you are going to berate is a horse. You do not shout at horses do you?”
He grinned, “No, father, although I do not think my warriors would like to be compared with a horse.”
“That is the secret, Ragnvald, you keep that thought to yourself.”
After that talk he changed again and became a little more mature.
Life went on and we all changed. Our two towers gave us a fine view out to sea and when the lookout shouted, “Sail Ho. Drekar!” my men all grabbed their weapons and manned our walls. If the lookout saw a ship, then it would be heading to shore. The rocks and the island made the coast dangerous for strangers. Most kept well out to sea. The fact that the lookout had shouted meant that the drekar was heading for the Haugr.
When I saw that the threttanessa had no shields on the side I knew it was not an enemy. A Viking would not risk the wrath of the Allfather by such a deception. I mounted Dream Strider and rode out to meet the captain of this drekar. It took time for the ship to negotiate the channel to the quay. My captains could do it quicker but we knew where the rocks lay.
I recognised one of the two men who stepped from the drekar. It was Fjor Finnisson. We had met him in Dorestad and he had known Folki. Fjor held out his hand, “This is Jarl Sigtrygg the Left-Handed. This is our drekar, ‘Cold Drake’ .” The jarl looked to be a little older than me. He wore his sword the opposite way to us. That explained the left-handed nickname. I idly wondered how he used a shield. He did not hold his arm out for me to clasp. I suspected that was because he was left handed. It was seen as unlucky for those who were right handed to shake hands left handed. I just nodded.
The Land of the Northmen (Norman Genesis Book 5) Page 12