Viking Clan

by Griff Hosker

  Holding my sword just above my shield and Ketil’s I waited for the blow which I knew would come from on high. He would aim for my head. The advantage of a locked shield wall is that you can still raise and lower your shield without damaging the integrity of the whole. I brought it up. My shield had metal studs around the side. The front was studded with metal. It was not light. It was, however, sturdy and when the blow came my arm jarred. The shield took the full force of the blow. The metal rim of my shield would have taken the edge off his blade. I saw that the chief had expected to shatter my shield with the strike.

  The spears of Aðalsteinn and Dagfinnr darted forward. Dagfinnr’s gouged a line in the chief’s cheek while his uncle’s spear struck the warrior next to him who was raising his sword to smite Ketil. As the chief screamed, I lunged with Ragnar’s Spirit and struck him in his left shoulder. There was no mail there and my tip entered the soft flesh and grated off bone. I twisted and withdrew the blade. Blood spurted and he shouted in anger. He raised his sword again and I saw that it was bent. His strike would not be true. This time, as I raised my shield, I lowered my sword. The blow, when it struck, barely registered for the sword had not hit the shield square. I stabbed forwards. My tip found mail but then slid off the links to strike his thigh. I felt something soft and pushed hard. I felt blood as it poured from the wound to drench my hand. The chief was mortally wounded. He had three wounds but the last one had done for him and I saw the light go from his eyes as his body slumped to the soggy ground.

  The men behind me were stabbing with their spears and the ones to my left were hacking and stabbing. When the chief of the Picts fell his oathsworn lost all reason. I had killed him and they wanted vengeance. The six of them who remained tried to get at me. There were bodies before us and a mass of men who had survived the arrows trying to get to grips with us. There were so many that they could not swing their weapons. I did not have to swing mine for it was held below my shield and ready to stab.

  The Pictish oathsworn pushed their faces towards me. Their shields were jammed against their bodies as were their weapons. Two men tried to bite me. I pulled back my head and butted one as Dagfinnr’s spear went into the eye of the second. The press of men behind began to push us but it was up the slope. The ones behind the front flailed their spears and swords at us but all they struck were helmets. We had good helmets over mail hoods and head protectors. They did no harm. They, in contrast, had helmets only. When our weapons hit them, they dented helmets and heads. Men were hurt. The sheer weight of numbers began to push us back. The man I had headbutted looked stunned and I ripped my blade up into his chest. He fell, dead.

  I heard Aðalsteinn shout, “Hold them! Brace!”

  Our third rank must have pressed their shields into the backs of our second rank for it felt as though a solid wall had been pressed behind us. The last flight of missiles from the archers broke the enemy. The twenty arrows fell into the men who were at the rear of their line. As our men pushed into our backs so the front rank of the enemy was pushed and they had fewer men to support them. Suddenly the ones before us fell as they were pushed onto the bodies of their dead.

  I saw our chance, “Break wall!” I unlocked my shield and, stepping on to the chest of the man who had just been speared in the leg by Dagfinnr, I stabbed him in the throat. There were just a dozen men before us for the rest were fighting on the flanks. Our men who had been in the second rank suddenly joined us and, now more than fifty men wide, we began to butcher the men of Strathclyde and their Pictish allies. We were mailed and they were not. They had struggled up a bloody and muddy slope. We had waited. They were weary and we were not. As I slew a lime haired half-naked Pict who had no shield and just a short curved sword, I saw the Danes. They mounted the horses from the raiders’ wagons. They were leaving. They headed south. Had we had horses we might have caught them but they would escape. There was nothing we could do about it and so we concentrated upon winning the battle.

  When our archers put down their bows and joined us then the end was not far away. They did not even attempt to surrender. Their chiefs were dead and they were honour bound to follow them. It was like harvesting wheat. By the time the last one had been despatched the muscles in my arms burned. We had won!

  Chapter 16

  Ketil had lost men. His son had been wounded but the wound was not life threatening. We first buried our own dead. The soft ground made digging the graves easy. We curved them in their graves and placed their swords in their hands. We laid their shields upon their faces and we buried them. Then we gathered the stripped bodies of the enemy and piled them on top of the graves of our men. We would burn them when we found dry kindling. It would send a message north of the wall that this was the fate of all raiders.

  I saw the shock on Erik’s face as the bodies were piled up. Some of the raiders had been hard to kill. They had fought on beyond any reason and their butchered bodies bore many wounds. I gave him my shield and helmet. “Go back to the camp and light a fire. We shall have hot food this day.”

  “Aye, Jarl.”

  Ketil came over. I pointed south, “The Danes fled?”

  He nodded, “I think that you were right. This was mischief to hurt us. I have the men collecting dry kindling to burn their dead. They have wagons at their camp. We will use that to take back their metal. I will send Carr to see where they went.”

  “It will be a waste of time. They will head over the High Divide. It may take them some time to report to their leaders and that time can be used by us.”

  The sun had traversed the sky and it was mid-afternoon when we had the wagons loaded and the kindling ready to burn the enemy bodies. Their heads we had placed on broken spears in a line which was parallel to the wall. It would remind those north of the wall of their folly. We lit the kindling and when it caught, we retired to the raider’s camp. They had butchered animals and hung them. We cooked and ate the food and then used their camp. We had a long thirty-mile march back to Ketil’s home and our horses. We would take a whole day to complete it. We had wagons to pull and wounded men to nurse. We had had a victory but it had been at a cost.

  To keep him occupied while the gory work of disposing of the bodies had taken place, I had sent Erik to collect as many arrows from the battle field as possible. We could reuse the heads and some of the shafts could also be salvaged. There were always arrows which just struck the ground and were undamaged. The result was that he only returned when the pall of smoke from the pyre was rising in the sky and blowing northwards.

  Dagfinnr saw him coming, laden with shafts, “Here, young archer, let me help you with those.”

  The two of them carried the heads and shafts to the wagon. Erik unslung his bow from his back and placed it in the wagon. He rubbed his shoulder, “When I was loosing the bow my arms and shoulder felt as though they were burning, Dagfinnr!"

  “That is normal. You are young. As you grow, they will burn less and when you begin to row a drekar you will experience the burning in different places. It is the price you pay to become a man and a warrior but you have made a good start. It is just a pity that their helmets and swords were only fit for melting or else we might have found some for you.”

  I threw over a purse I had taken from the dead chief. “Here, divide this amongst yourselves and then you can see Haaken Bagsecgson, Erik Shield Bearer, and he will make you a good helmet!”

  Dagfinnr said, “Jarl, this is yours by right. It is a full purse and you killed the chief.”

  I shook my head, “I could not have done it without you. I have more coin than I can ever spend. I need no money, I need no sword. What I need I have; good warriors and a clan.”

  We spent the night with Ketil. After the long walk we were ready for a bed and hot food at the old Roman fort. We left the next morning to ride to the Stad on the Eden and its jarl, Ráðulfr Ulfsson. We rode with Windar and his warriors to their home. We were about to leave when Windar said, “I have something in my chest for the young shield bearer.
He fought with great courage.” He returned a short while later with a helmet. “This belonged to my son. He outgrew it but it will be big enough for Erik.” It was a simple helmet with a nasal but, to Erik, it was the most precious thing he owned. Even though we three did not wear our helmets, Erik insisted upon wearing his as we rode west.

  We reached the stad before dark. Here we saw that there was no crisis. There were just two sentries on the wall and they were chatting. They smiled and waved as we entered. Ráðulfr Ulfsson was a good jarl. He kept a close watch on the river which bordered the land of Strathclyde. He had a good drekar, ‘Sea Eagle’, and unlike the rest of my jarls, he regularly rowed to sea. His visible presence deterred the Hibernians and the men of Strathclyde from raiding. He often landed in Hibernia where he took animals and slaves. He was a huge broad chested warrior and he let his hair hang loose. Most of us tied it up but Ráðulfr liked the wild look. He and Bergil Hafþórrsson could have been twins! He also used an unusual weapon. He had an axe with a long handle but a short head. It was easier to wield than a Danish war axe and in Ráðulfr’s hands it was deadly.

  “Good to see you, Jarl Dragonheart, but I think that your visit does not bring with it news which is good.”

  I shook my head, “There is danger. We would spend the night with you for there is much to discuss.”

  He nodded to my two men, “There is room in the warrior hall for your bodyguards and there you will eat well. We captured a trader heading from Strathclyde. She was heavily laden.” My two men took the four horses and headed for the stable. “And who is this? One of your great grandchildren?”

  I shook my head, “This is Erik Shield Bearer. He is an orphan. I am giving him a home.”

  We went into his hall. His wife, Agnete, was a buxom and comfortable woman. They had five children, at the last count, and she seemed destined to be a mother far into the future. It suited her. She hurried away with her brood around her ankles to prepare our beds. I sat with Ráðulfr, his eldest son, Ulf, and the leader of his hearth weru, Leif the Silent. Erik stood behind me.

  “Erik sit.”

  Ale was brought by one of his thralls and we drank. “So, Jarl Dragonheart, tell me of this danger.”

  I began by telling him of the raid on Portus Cale and my dreams. He clutched his wolf amulet. The Land of the Wolf was a land which had powerful magic and a warrior did not doubt the significance of dreams. I told him of the raid on Ketil’s land.

  He had supped two horns of ale while I had been telling him and he poured a third. “Now I see why we have had no trouble for a while from the men of Strathclyde. They have been building their forces to raid Ketil but if you say there were less than a hundred men of Strathclyde then where were the rest?”

  My jarl was a clever man and I berated myself for not thinking of that earlier. “They could be planning an attack on this coast.”

  “Then they have made a serious error of judgement. We now have warning. It will soon be high summer and my farmers will have little to do until we harvest the crops. I could summon almost a hundred and fifty warriors.”

  An idea began to form in my mind. Up to now we had been reacting to what others did. Perhaps it was time for a bold move. “I think that we should visit their King. Who is the King now?”

  “It is still Dumnagual. He has his stronghold at Alt Clut.”

  “I know the place. I went there with Aiden. Would you be willing to take me to him?”

  “That is not a bad idea, Jarl Dragonheart. He is not the man his father was. Riderch would have led all of his warriors to attack Ketil but then he would not have entered into an alliance with the Picts. My drekar is ready and we can go on the morrow.”

  ‘Sea Eagle’ was a smaller drekar than mine. It had fourteen oars on each side. We were not going for war and we were not double crewed. We hung no shields from our sides but all of the men were armed. Aðalsteinn and Dagfinnr came with Erik and I but they did not have to row. It was a two-hundred-mile voyage. With the normal favourable winds from the south and west and men rowing now and again we could do the voyage in a day. It King Dumnagual proved inhospitable then we would sleep on the drekar. It would not be a hardship.

  The waters through which we sailed were familiar to Aðalsteinn and Dagfinnr but Erik saw everything as new. We passed many islands and inlets. We also passed other vessels but when they saw the dragon prow, they all gave us sea room. We were the wolf of the sea and the only ship which might face us would be another drekar. We saw none.

  As we sailed, I explained to Ráðulfr my strategy for dealing with an attack by Danes. “This visit, I hope, will make your position less precarious. You are our reserve. You can reach Ketil in one day and me in two. Your walls are the strongest in the land save for Ketil’s. You could take many men.”

  “Aye, I have eighty men whom I could summon and still leave my stronghold well defended.” He adjusted the steering board a little. “And I can have men build the watch towers. We are more fortunate than Ketil. The wall still stands on the east and my men farm to the south of it. We could build wooden towers and send a signal to Pennryhd quickly. It would take less than an hour for a signal to reach him or for one to reach us.”

  Ketil and Ráðulfr were the better of my jarls. Asbjorn had lost too many friends and fought too many battles. He had grown old and the coughing sickness had taken the fight from him. Ragnar and Gruffyd were too concerned with their own families. Ketil and Ráðulfr always thought of the clan. When I was gone, I feared that Sámr would have to leave Cyninges-tūn and make his home further south. Cyninges-tūn was the hardest part of my land to reach. That was why the people there prospered and were content. It helped that Kara and Ylva were there too. Their presence seemed to act as a spiritual wall for my home. Aiden’s death had made me fear for my daughter.

  When we reached the mouth of the river the sky was darkening ahead. We managed to reach the quay at Alt Clut just before dark. Ráðulfr would not let me go ashore until he had made contact with those in the stronghold. He sent Leif the Silent and two of his hearth weru. They were away so long that darkness had fallen by the time that Leif returned.

  “The King is in residence, Jarl, and he is prepared to meet with you but he wants no more than four of you to enter the stronghold.”

  “Will Jarl Dragonheart be safe?” My jarl was more concerned with me than his own safety.

  “He swore that he would.”

  Ráðulfr turned to me, “I can go if you wish.”

  “We will both go.” I realised this was where Atticus would have been useful. “Erik, you shall come with me. You are clever and can keep your ears open.”

  Ráðulfr smiled, “And I will take my son, Ulf. If nothing else it will make them wonder what we are about taking such a young warrior as Erik. Leif you take charge here. If we are not back by noon tomorrow then you had better take news to Cyninges-tūn that I have lost the jarl!” I could tell, from his voice, that he did not think that was a likely outcome. As we stepped ashore, he said, “Dumnagual is greedy but he is fearful. He knows that we could ravage his lands any time we like. As you discovered at Hautwesel the men of Strathclyde are brave enough but they are poor warriors.”

  We were greeted at the gate by four warriors. They were in full mail including helmets, shields and spears. I turned and smiled at Ráðulfr. I said loudly and slowly for I knew they would understand my words, “I think they must be really worried about a warrior, an old man a youth and a child that they send such warriors to greet us.”

  My words struck home for two of them coloured and one said, “The King awaits. Keep your hands from your weapons”

  I turned to Erik, “There, Erik Shield Bearer, you have been warned.” Erik smiled and Ráðulfr laughed out loud.

  The King was seated on a raised dais. His wife was next to him and he was surrounded by six men who were also armed and mailed like the four who had escorted us in. There was also a man who was dressed more plainly and had no weapons. It was he who greete
d us, “I am Teudabur, the King’s counsel. I speak your language and I will translate your words for the King.”

  I nodded, “This is Ráðulfr Ulfsson, the jarl of my lands to the south of you. I am Jarl Dragonheart of the Land of the Wolf.”

  I saw the surprise on the face of the counsellor and when he translated, I heard the audible gasp from the rest of the room. The King spoke and I detected nervousness in his voice.

  “The King says it is an honour to meet such a renowned warrior but he thought you were dead.” Teudabur shrugged, “We all heard that you died in the east.”

  “As you can see, I am alive and still more than capable of wielding a sword or leading an army!” I deliberately used a belligerent tone. His people had attacked mine and I would warn him of his folly in doing so again.

  “And what is it that you wish?”

  “Some of your men attacked my people close to Pennryhd. We slaughtered them and I am here to discover if the King knew of their intentions.” I smiled, “I also give him the chance to tell me if he wishes a war with my clan!”

  The words were translated and the King spoke at length. “His majesty is at pains to point out that he wishes to live in peace with his neighbours of the Clan of the Wolf. He would not jeopardise the friendship we enjoy.”

  He had not answered me. That was patently a lie but I let it go. “There were some Danes present with the men we slew. What does the King know of the Danes?”

  This time I watched the King’s face as the words were translated. He tried to mask his feelings but I saw the guilt on his face. He answered.

  Teudabur said, “The King knows nothing of Danes. They are far to the east and do not concern him.”

  I smiled, “Good then all is well and the peace can continue but, Teudabur the Counsellor, tell the King that if I discover that there are enemies plotting north of the river then I will take action. I will unleash the Clan of the Wolf. I will unsheathe the sword that was touched by the gods and I will make Strathclyde a wasteland. I will slaughter every man and enslave every woman and child.” I put my hand on the sword to make the point, “However, as the King has spoken true then none of this will happen.”