Viking Clan

by Griff Hosker

  Sven the Boneless was coming for me. I had thrown him from his home. I had killed his leader. I had humiliated him and he wanted vengeance. I had no doubt that Ubba Ragnarsson was using him. The fact that he allowed him to be in the front rank told me that. I had my sword resting on my shield. When they were one hundred paces from us, I shouted, “Lock shields!” That was a double signal. It made my men fix their shields together and place their right feet slightly behind their left. As they did so then the attention of every Dane was on us. I saw a subtle movement as they lifted their shields slightly. I had their attention. The second effect of the signal was that Aðils Shape Shifter ordered the slingers and archers to release. We had almost two hundred archers and slingers. The first flights and shower of stones wreaked havoc on their right flank. Even as someone shouted for them to swing around their shields the second and third flights had struck. When I heard stones rattling on shields and saw arrows sticking from shields, I knew that they had protected themselves. Before that had happened, we had hurt them. The Danish right flank had been badly hurt.

  Sven the Boneless could not wait any longer and he shouted, “Charge!”

  It was a mistake. The ones on the right were adjusting their shields and negotiating the bodies of their dead. Their centre and left hit us but not their right. Our archers sent arrows into the rear rank. The rear rank could not defend itself and there the men had no mail.

  Then they hit us. These were not half-naked Picts. These were mailed warriors with shields as big as ours. They were backed by more men than we had. A spear came at my head and even as I moved my head out of the way a second rang off my shield and then my helmet. My head was jerked back. I held my sword out as the line hit us. I was pushed back as were Rollo and Haaken. The third rank behind us was also made up of mailed men and we did not move far.

  Sven the Boneless’ face was close to mine. Even as he opened his mouth to insult me, I head butted him. I shattered his nose and broke most of the teeth in his mouth. I swung my sword overhand but he blocked it with his shield. I pulled my sword, which was now over his shoulder backwards across his mail coif. It was a not well-made byrnie for I severed ten links and a hole appeared. Eystein’s spear jabbed out and, clanking off Sven the Boneless’ helmet, it bounced into the eye of the warrior fighting Rollo. Even as the man began to fall Rollo’s sword jerked forward and took the man in the second rank full in the mouth. He stepped into the gap and his body pressed against Sven the Boneless’ arm. He could not move. Suddenly Erik Shield Bearer’s short sword darted out and stabbed Sven in the thigh. He roared his anger and pain, I had my arm back and I lunged at his open mouth. Ragnar’s Spirit came out of the back of his skull. As he fell, I stepped forward and the warrior next to Eystein took advantage, spearing Haaken One Eye’s opponent in the right arm. Haaken finished him off and we moved forward. It was just one step but I could see that Sámr and Baldr had forced back the decimated men on the right. We were pushing back the Danes who outnumbered us.

  Having space before me, I swung my sword sideways. I connected with a helmet. The distracted warrior was gutted by Haaken. A flurry of arrows descended. One was dangerously close to Rollo but they took out eight warriors in the third rank. There were now just seven Danes facing twelve of my men. Behind them I saw Ubba Ragnarsson. He still had a reserve of over a hundred men. I saw his standard being waved. Was he ordering a retreat? Then I saw a face I knew amongst the hastily organised shield wall. It was Beorn Sharp Tongue. He was not only a murderer, he was a traitor! He had joined the Danes and helped them to infiltrate the Land of the Wolf. A red mist filled my head.

  “Charge! Let us end this!”

  Heading for the murderer, I punched with my shield and slashed with my sword. I had two shields in my back propelling me forward. Beorn Sharp Tongue was a bully. He had killed a man who was not a warrior. Even as his sword came up Odin aided me and Ragnar’s Spirit shattered his blade in two and hacked deep into his neck. As he fell those around him tried to fall back in good order. The men we faced had nothing save the bodies of the dead behind them. There was no second rank providing support. When they tripped over their dead comrades they were slain.

  Then, from the walls I heard, “Dragonheart, the drekar are approaching the shore. They intend to land men!”

  There was a beach behind Raibeart and his men. We were within touching distance of victory. Sven the Boneless was slain and his oathsworn lay dead. Sámr and Baldr were driving towards Ubba and his reserve but if the drekar landed crews then we would be slaughtered.

  “Raibeart, turn your men around and face the new threat.”

  “Aye jarl.”

  It was then that Ubba led his reserve. They formed a wedge and headed for our right flank. Ketil and Ráðgeir had been forced back by the sheer weight of numbers. The men who had been fighting against them had not been thinned by arrows and they had outflanked my finest of warriors. Already they were pushing against the men of Cyninges-tūn.

  “Sámr, wheel right!”

  “Aye Dragonheart.”

  “Haaken, Rollo, let us show these young warriors how an Ulfheonar can fight.” We turned, for we had space before us and we began to move towards the wedge which was moving quickly across the ground. Ubba was going to charge my men. He would hit them with his one hundred fresh men and they would plough through them. The swords of my men would be blunted. Ubba’s men would have sharp blades and arms which had yet to swing a weapon. The rest of his men who had attacked Ketil and my men were still fighting. The reinforcements would swing the battle in Ubba’s favour. If we were weary, we could not show it. I forced myself to run even the pain from my old wounds sent waves through my body. The three of us were together, others were slightly behind so that we made our own wedge. Sámr and Baldr had further to run and there were still groups of Danes fighting.

  The hope we had was that we were going to hit the wedge at the side and we would hit their spear side. I raised my sword. I was aware that Haraldr and Erik were close behind. Eystein and his men were a heartbeat further back. There would be four of us with experience. The rest were novices. That thought spurred me and I ran faster. The Dane whom I hit saw me and tried to turn. My last burst of speed defeated his spear and I hit his hand with the boss of my shield as my sword stabbed the man before him in the back. Haaken then hacked into the side of the warrior who was next in line. A wedge works because every man is protected by at least two men. In our initial attack we had slain three for Haraldr had stabbed the warrior who had dropped his spear when I had hit him.

  We were driving deep into the soft side of the wedge. I drove my sword into the side of a warrior who was trying to turn his spear. He had good mail but my sword had a tip and I ripped through the mail. The wedge broke and the warriors turned to face us. Ketil and Ráðgeir had been saved but now the Danes faced a short line with just four veterans and the rest who were untried men.

  It was then that two things happened at once. Sámr and Baldr’s men reached the rear of the wedge and, from the north I heard a horn as Ragnar led the men of Whale Island. They were not on the battlefield yet but they soon would be. The horn was to tell me that they were coming.

  “Shield wall!”

  There was a crack like thunder as Sámr and his men hit the rear of the wedge. This was not a line against another line it was a confused maelstrom of bodies, blades and blood. You fought one man but another might stab you in the side or back. All men sought me. A Dane with an axe came at me. He had not been in the wedge. He must have been with the original attack. I saw one of Ketil’s men hacked across the chest by the axe man and the giant lumbered towards me. I had time to take out Wolf’s Blood and slip it into my left hand. He roared and launched himself at me. I tried to block his axe with my sword but it was such a powerful blow that it knocked it away and I barely managed to raise my shield. The axe knocked me to my knee. Ragnar’s Spirit stopped me from falling. He roared with joy and taking the axe in two hands brought it down towards my head.
I lunged up with the shield in my left hand. Wolf’s Blood drove up between his legs and deep into his guts. I looked up and saw the look of surprise and then horror on his face. The axe fell to the ground. I ripped out the blade, bringing entrails and organs with it. As he fell, I stood and shouted, “Ragnar’s’ Spirit! Clan of the Wolf!”

  My men all shouted but it merely drew the Danes towards me. I was not afraid. I had the joy of battle within me. If I was to die then Sámr could take over the clan. He had shown me that he was more than capable. I would end this Danish threat. I held my shield before me as I hacked at the spear of the Dane before me. I would fight my way to Ubba Ragnarsson and he would die. I might die reaching him but all attention would be on me and the best of the clan would live on.

  Haaken One Eye had the same blood lust in his voice as he shouted, “Death to the Danes!”

  He swung his sword so hard that he shattered the Danish shield before him. I backhanded my blade against the Dane’s neck and he fell. A spear rammed into my shield and another into my side. My mail held but I felt a rib crack. I cared not.

  Behind me I heard Erik shouting, “Jarl Dragonheart! The ships!”

  I was oblivious to all but the men before me. Ubba was just four men from Haaken and I. We would slay his oathsworn. Blows rained on my helmet and shield but the blue stones of Odin protected me. Ragnar’s Spirit gave me power and strength beyond my years. I punched my sword at the face of a Dane and then used Wolf’s Blood to rip across his throat.

  And then suddenly Ubba Ragnarsson shouted, “Fall back! We are lost!”

  The men before us seemed to melt away. They ran. We were so taken aback that we did not react quickly enough. They ran to a drekar which was floundering in the estuary, When I looked, I saw that blood ran down her side.

  I turned to Erik Shield Bearer. He was grinning. “What happened?”

  He pointed to the south. There were six ships there. They were fighting the last three of the Danish drekar. “It is Bergil Hafþórrsson, see his standard, Jarl Dragonheart. He has brought his ships to our aid. “

  I saw Beorn and Benni. They were covered from head to toe in blood. Their shields were hacked and cut yet they banged their swords against their shields and cheered their brother. We had won. The Danes had come to take our land and the clan had prevailed.

  Epilogue

  It was two days after the battle that we finally cleared the last of the enemy dead and buried our own. Fifty of our warriors had died. Rollo had a wound to his leg. He would not be able to fight in a shield wall any longer. He had wanted to spend more time with his family and now he would. Eystein and his men had come of age and knew what it was to be a warrior.

  As we made our way to the wrecked and blackened shipyard there was no joy in my heart in the victory. I had hoped beyond hope that Erik Short Toe or his family, at least, had somehow, survived. When we saw the burned homes and the bodies hacked so that they were almost unrecognisable we knew that my old navigator was gone. He had trained Sámr and then he had been taken from us. His hour glass, his charts, his compass were all burned. His head was atop a spear and his wife had been used and abused. I was just grateful that none of his sons and grandsons had been at home. They had been at sea in the family knarr. We gathered their bodies and buried them. The shipbuilders and sailors of the shipyard were all dead. My drekar was no more. I did not think that I would go to sea again. This vibrant community had gone. These were not warriors. They were ship builders and seafarers.

  Erik Shield Bearer was the most distraught of all. Erik Short Toe and his wife had been as mother and father to him. They had given him a home and shown him kindness. Now all he had was me and my old men. I saw him changing before my eyes.

  After we had buried the dead, we said farewell to those with whom we had fought. We said good bye to the dead and to the skeletons that had been our drekar. We headed north to Cyninges-tūn. My work was finished. Sámr was now a leader. He had no ship yet but that meant he could build his own and that drekar would have Sámr’s spirit within. I could stay in my home and be a counsellor for Sámr. I could advise him. I was no longer needed except by Erik. When he was a warrior then I could lay down my burden. I could go to Valhalla knowing that I had helped to save my clan.

  The End

  Norse Calendar

  Gormánuður October 14th - November 13th

  Ýlir November 14th - December 13th

  Mörsugur December 14th - January 12th

  Þorri - January 13th - February 11th

  Gói - February 12th - March 13th

  Einmánuður - March 14th - April 13th

  Harpa April 14th - May 13th

  Skerpla - May 14th - June 12th

  Sólmánuður - June 13th - July 12th

  Heyannir - July 13th - August 14th

  Tvímánuður - August 15th - September 14th

  Haustmánuður September 15th-October 13th

  Glossary

  Afen- River Avon

  Afon Hafron- River Severn in Welsh

  Àird Rosain – Ardrossan (On the Clyde Estuary)

  Al-buhera -Albufeira, Portugal

  Aledhorn- Althorn (Essex)

  An Lysardh - Lizard Peninsula Cornwall

  Balears- Balearic Islands

  Balley Chashtal -Castleton (Isle of Man)

  Bardas - Rebel Byzantine General

  Beamfleote -Benfleet Essex

  Bebbanburgh- Bamburgh Castle, Northumbria also known as Din Guardi in the ancient tongue

  Beck- a stream

  Beinn na bhFadhla- Benbecula in the Outer Hebrides

  Beodericsworth- Bury St Edmunds

  Belesduna – Basildon, Essex

  Belisima -River Ribble

  Blót – a blood sacrifice made by a jarl

  Blue Sea- The Mediterranean

  Bogeuurde – Forest of Bowland

  Bondi- Viking farmers who fight

  Bourde- Bordeaux

  Bjarnarøy –Great Bernera (Bear Island)

  Breguntford – Brentford

  Brixges Stane – Brixton (South London)

  Bruggas- Bruges

  Brycgstow- Bristol

  Burntwood- Brentwood Essex

  Byrnie- a mail or leather shirt reaching down to the knees

  Caerlleon- Welsh for Chester

  Caer Ufra -South Shields

  Caestir - Chester (old English)

  Cantwareburh -Canterbury

  Càrdainn Ros -Cardross (Argyll)

  Carrum -Carhampton (Somerset)

  Cas-gwent -Chepstow Monmouthshire

  Casnewydd –Newport, Wales

  Cephas- Greek for Simon Peter (St. Peter)

  Chatacium -Catanzaro, Calabria

  Chape- the tip of a scabbard

  Charlemagne- Holy Roman Emperor at the end of the 8th and beginning of the 9th centuries

  Celchyth - Chelsea

  Cerro da Vila – Vilamoura, Portugal

  Cherestanc- Garstang (Lancashire)

  Cil-y-coed -Caldicot Monmouthshire

  Colneceastre- Colchester

  Corn Walum or Om Walum- Cornwall

  Cymri- Welsh

  Cymru- Wales

  Cyninges-tūn – Coniston. It means the estate of the king (Cumbria)

  Dùn Èideann –Edinburgh (Gaelic)

  Din Guardi- Bamburgh castle

  Drekar- a Dragon ship (a Viking warship) pl. drekar

  Duboglassio –Douglas, Isle of Man

  Dun Holme- Durham

  Dún Lethglaise - Downpatrick (Northern Ireland)

  Durdle- Durdle dor- the Jurassic coast in Dorset

  Dwfr- Dover

  Dyrøy –Jura (Inner Hebrides)

  Dyflin- Old Norse for Dublin

  Ēa Lōn - River Lune

  Earhyth -Bexley (Kent)

  Ein-mánuðr - middle of March to the middle of April

  Eoforwic- Saxon for York

  Falgrave- Scarborough (North Yorkshire)

  Faro Bregancio- Corunna (Spain)

  Fe
rneberga -Farnborough (Hampshire)

  Fey- having second sight

  Firkin- a barrel containing eight gallons (usually beer)

  Fornibiyum-Formby (near Liverpool)

  Fret-a sea mist

  Frankia- France and part of Germany

  Fyrd-the Saxon levy

  Ganda- Ghent (Belgium)

  Garth- Dragon Heart

  Gaill- Irish for foreigners

  Galdramenn- wizard

  Gesith- A Saxon nobleman. After 850 A.D. they were known as thegns

  Gippeswic -Ipswich

  Glaesum –amber,

  Glannoventa -Ravenglass

  Gleawecastre- Gloucester

  Gói- the end of February to the middle of March

  Gormánuður- October to November (Slaughter month- the beginning of winter)

  Grendel- the monster slain by Beowulf

  Grenewic- Greenwich

  Gulle - Goole (Humberside)

  Halfdenby – Alston Cumbria

  Hagustaldes ham -Hexham

  Hamwic -Southampton

  Hæstingaceaster- Hastings

  Haughs- small hills in Norse (As in Tarn Hows)

  Haustmánuður - September 16th- October 16th (cutting of the corn)

  Hautwesel -Haltwhistle (Hadrian’s Wall)

  Hearth weru- The bodyguard or oathsworn of a jarl

  Heels- when a ship leans to one side under the pressure of the wind

  Hel - Queen of Niflheim, the Norse underworld.

  Here Wic- Harwich

  Hersey- Isle of Arran

  Hersir- a Viking landowner and minor noble. It ranks below a jarl