by C. R. May
Towards the end of the second day at sea, as the Puffin crested yet another high rolling wave, Gunnar sighted land to steerboard. Beowulf looked over to Helgi.
“Britannia?”
Helgi laughed.
“I hope not! No, that will be the island of Zetland. Britannia is far to the South. We will soon be turning south east and heading back towards our coast. We should have you in the Kattegat in three days, maybe four.”
As promised Cola recovered on the morning of the third day and seemed to spend the rest of the morning eating and climbing all over the ship. Most of the crew agreed that they much preferred the seasick Cola to the rejuvenated one. Thankfully several dolphins appeared alongside the ship later in the day and delighted the crew by leaping clear of the water as they kept pace with the Puffin. Everyone’s spirits rose as the crew explained that they were a sign of good fortune.
Beowulf was joined by the men of his comitatus as they jostled for the best position alongside him in the bows to watch the display. They marvelled at the ability of the animals to keep pace with the ship, seemingly inches ahead of the bows.
Cola proved that he was fully recovered by pushing Gunnar overboard and catching him at the last moment by his belt. Unfortunately for Gunnar his head had spent some time underwater before he was hauled back inboard and dumped, dripping, into the bows.
“Saved you!” the big Engle had grinned as the rest of the warriors and crew had cried with laughter.
To their relief the waves lessened the further south they travelled. On the morning of the fourth day at sea they awoke to a heavy mist. Helgi ordered the sail shortened and stationed one of the crew in the bows where he strained to catch sight of any obstacles ahead. Although they should still be far from the southern coast of Noregr, a collision with a fishing boat would very likely prove fatal for the occupants of both ships.
Gunnar turned to Helgi.
“Would you like me to go up the mast and see if I can see any better higher up?”
“Thank you, Gunnar. That would be helpful. I can’t spare any more crew for lookouts. Sing out if you see anything.”
Gunnar nodded and scurried up the mast, in moments he was calling down.
“It’s clear up here. I can see the masthead of another ship approaching us from steerboard. She’s not under sail…” Gunner’s voice trailed off. There was clearly something amiss with the strange ship. Beowulf trusted his man implicitly. If he suspected that there was something wrong there almost invariably was. He jumped down from the steering platform and went to retrieve his weapons.
“Cola, Finn; arm yourselves. Gunnar thinks that there is something wrong.”
Helgi called calmly up to Gunnar.
“Talk to me Gunnar. What do we do, hide in the fog or not?”
Gunner was obviously carefully studying the movements of the other ship and had forgotten that the others were still waiting for his report.
“Sorry Helgi, she appears to be adrift. There doesn’t seem to be any indication that she is being steered at all. Do you want me to guide you to her?”
Helgi looked to Beowulf. Cola and Finn were just securing the jewelled clips which fastened his tough leather battle shirt. It would be enough to protect him in a fight without the added weight of his mail byrnie. He nodded curtly as he slipped his full face grim helm over his head and tied it beneath his chin. He might be going into battle and he wanted to look as imposing as possible. It could make a difference.
Beowulf strode back to join Helgi on the steering platform. The men of the crew gaped at him as he passed them. They knew that he was a lord but it was the first time that they had seen him in his battle clothes. The quality of his weapons and armour marked him out as a warrior of high, perhaps even royal, rank.
What had they got themselves into?
He called up to Gunnar.
“Guide us to them. Let’s see what we find.”
Helgi brought the Puffin about and followed Gunnar’s directions. Two of the crew slid oars from the oar holes and moved the ship forward with slow, easy, strokes. Soon an indistinct shape began to emerge from the mist a short bow shot ahead. The crew man stationed in the bows stood and waved, pointing ahead deliberately with his arm.
Beowulf acknowledged the crew man’s caution. If there were men on the ship there was no need to warn them of their approach. He cupped his hands and whispered up to Gunnar.
“Well done, Gunnar. Get yourself down here and armed. Let us solve this mystery.”
Slowly the shape ahead of them hardened into a small Knarr, of the type that they were more familiar with in the shallow southern seas. Helgi pursed his lips and muttered to Beowulf.
“That’s a small inshore boat, used for rivers or at the most coastal work. What is it doing here?”
Beowulf picked up his shield and called to his men to follow him to the bows.
“Let’s find out. Get me close enough to board.”
Beowulf stood poised in the bow as the crew of the Puffin gently nudged her towards the prow of the mystery knarr. His men had taken their positions around him, Gunnar to his right, Cola to the left and Finn tucked in behind. There was still no sign of life from the boat ahead. They braced as the Puffin finally brought it’s prow alongside. The moment he felt the small jolt as the vessels touched Beowulf leapt across the gap and landed in the bows.
They found a ship of death.
One glance was enough to tell them not only that the occupants had been dead for some months but that the cause of their deaths had been men and not disease.
Helgi had withdrawn the Puffin a short distance in case it was a trap, as he had agreed with Beowulf. If it was a trap they would fight for control of the boat or die trying he had decided. Beowulf turned and called across the gap which now separated the vessels.
“Helgi, you can bring the ship over. These people are beyond being a threat to anybody.”
They sheathed their swords and slowly walked the length of the boat. Cola was the first to speak.
“Wealh, lord. I have seen this before, when I was a boy.”
Beowulf turned to Cola.
“Wealh?”
“It’s the English name for foreigners, lord, Britons from Britannia. They must have been killed in the late summer and drifted slowly north with the tides.”
Beowulf nodded, there was no need for further explanation, it was clear to all what had happened here. A small line of bodies lined the larboard deck. They had been equipped with shields and spears but no heavier weapons.
They had been ceorls, freemen who bore arms and comprised the bedrock of any society, the men of the levy in times of need. The shields bristled with arrows. One in particular resembled a field of barley the arrows were so tightly packed.
He had been the last to fall.
Behind the front rank lay a line of smaller bodies; the boys. They had either comprised the second line of defence or, more likely, had rushed forward to snatch up a shield from a dying father or older brother. These were not the type of families to own more than one shield.
The object of their desperate defence lay huddled to their rear, around the base of the mast. The women had placed their bodies in the way of the arrows in a final, futile, gesture to defend the children behind them. All of them bristled with dozens of arrows.
Beowulf felt tears come to his eyes as he noticed one small smiling face peering from amongst the piles of bones and matted hair which was all that remained after months of attention from passing gulls.
He bent down and retrieved the doll from the skeletal hand of its owner, a girl of about six winters. The face of the doll smiled at him from beneath the hair which the child’s father must have carefully carved for it. He could imagine the girls delight at receiving the gift one Yule from her doting parents.
She would take her new friend with her on the journey to Anglia where they would work hard and prosper. She would grow up to marry a wealthy farmer or warrior and her parents would grow old surrounded by
healthy grandchildren.
Beowulf looked around the boat. It was filled with the things the families would need for their new lives, ploughs, tools, axes, barrels of seed. He suddenly felt very weary. How could men do this and go home to their own families? What could have happened to them to make them hate a child because it had been born in a different place to them?
He suddenly had the intense sensation that he had been here before.
But how could he?
He knew what would happen next.
His arms and legs began to feel heavy, tingling all over as his world swam before him. He had hoped that these attacks would leave him but they seemed to be becoming more frequent.
What were they?
He breathed in deeply and held his breath. It had helped before and it began to help him again.
Slowly he became aware that Cola was still speaking to him.
“Their ships are much larger, with higher sides, so they can stand off and fire arrows down at the defenders with no risk to themselves.”
Beowulf held a hand up to silence him. He had seen and heard enough of the ‘Wealh’ for one day.
“Let’s go. Gunnar burn the boat, bring their spirits some peace.”
As they drew away they watched as the flames flickered in the belly of the boat and started to lick hungrily at the mast. Soon the boat was ablaze from end to end as it drifted back into the embrace of the sea mist. As they resumed their course the light of the flames grew dimmer and more indistinct until finally they were lost from view altogether.
Beowulf pulled the small figure from his top and stroked its lovingly carved hair.
“I will take you to Anglia little one and bury you in the soil of the English.”
He cast a glance back towards the South.
“I won’t be nearly so easy to kill.”
9
“This should do, here. The current will sweep us down towards them as they return to Saro.”
The Puffin was laid-to, several miles off the coast of Geatland. They had navigated the waters between the tip of Jute land and the southern coast of Noregr during the previous day. To Beowulf’s relief there had been no reaction from the South to their passage. He doubted that he was the most popular figure amongst the Jutes at the moment. He could guess their reaction if they captured him now, and it wasn’t a pleasant thought.
The Jutish army would have returned from their activities in the South by now and they would have discovered the disaster which had overtaken Hunwald’s ill advised expedition to Geatland in the summer from the wounded which Beowulf had allowed to return home in the elk ships.
They had sailed past Finn’s home at the mouth of the North River late the previous evening and Beowulf had allowed his man to swim ashore to visit his widowed mother. They would pick him up on the return journey two mornings hence.
“Right, loosen the binding on the steer board but make sure that we can reattach it quickly in case we need to leave in a hurry!”
Two of Helgi’s crew hopped up on the steering platform and began to work on the fixings. In no time the huge steering oar had been swung inboard and the disabled craft had begun to drift slowly southwards.
“There they are, about a mile away. They are still stationary at the moment. We should reach the area just in time, lord.”
Gunnar had been sent back up the mast having already proven his seafaring skills to Helgi over the course of the voyage south. In fact he had quickly become almost a sixth member of the crew and he clearly relished his time at sea. Beowulf regarded him as he smiled happily down from the masthead.
He will make the perfect ship master when I eventually own my own dracca.
A light drizzle had set in, slowly soaking the crew and warriors alike and dramatically reducing visibility.
Good, we will not be visible from the shore.
One of the crew came across and handed him a bowl of thick, hot, porridge and sausage. He smiled his thanks and savoured the aroma. It was funny how, despite his relative wealth and standing, the simple pleasures in life could still give him the greatest pleasure.
Thankfully the wind was little more than a whisper and the sea remained calm as they drifted slowly towards the fishing grounds. Cola worshipped Thunor, the god who controlled the weather. He would ask the big man to sacrifice to him for his help today.
“They are moving, lord!”
Gunnar had called down that the fishing fleet had finished their work for the night and were beginning to make their way back to their home port at Saro with their catch.
“Will they be able to see us yet?”
“Yes, lord. Even in this shitty weather!” Gunnar laughed.
“Come down then, let’s see if our plan will work.”
Gunnar slid down the mast and landed with a thump on the deck.
Beowulf smiled at Helgi.
“The rest is up to you. Remember to mention about the ships, it’s important. We will make ourselves scarce once a fishing boat approaches.”
Helgi grinned and nodded.
“Don’t worry, I know what to say.”
Beowulf clapped him on the shoulder. He was pleased to have found such an able ship master. The gods had smiled on him once more.
“Here, give the fisherman this. I find that it always helps to speed a message along.”
Beowulf rummaged around and produced a small piece of hack silver. He handed it to Helgi who nodded. Beowulf, Gunnar and Cola made their way to the waist of the ship and settled themselves safely out of sight in the hold. Above them two crew members were busily hoisting and lowering the red sails from the yard. It was an obvious distress signal and it would be only a matter of time before one of the fishing boats diverted to investigate. Almost immediately Helgi muttered.
“We have got one. Make sure that you all stay out of sight, lord.”
Beowulf watched, amused, as Cola ran his finger around the pot which had been used to prepare the porridge earlier. Sensing he was being watched the big Engle looked up with a boyish grin.
“Can’t let good food go to waste, lord!”
Beowulf smiled and placed a finger to his lip. They had no idea how close the other boat was and they could not afford to give away their presence.
A voice hailed them from the near distance.
“Problems, ship master?”
Beowulf looked up at Helgi as he moved, smiling, to the side of the ship. Gripping the rigging he placed his sealskin booted foot on the wale and called over to the new arrival.
“Thanks for coming over. I have got problems with my steer board attachments and I don’t have a spare. Would you ask your thegn to tow us in with his dracca? I am too big for anything smaller, it’s been tried before. I would pay well of course.”
Beowulf looked over at the crewmen pretending to work on the disabled steer board. He stifled a laugh as one of the men feigned anger and kicked the big paddle blade.
“It’s useless, Helgi. I’ll rip that shipwrights bollocks off when we get home!” Helgi shook his head in disgust and looked back to the fisherman with a frown. “Not if I find him first he won’t. That is the third time that we have had trouble with that yard. Where are you headed?”
“Saro.”
“Is that where Hudda is the thegn?”
“Hudda is the name of our thegn. Does he know you?”
“No, I heard that he was the lead ship master for the Geat fleet which sailed to Swede Land in the summer. Tell him that we have the same rudder problem as the elk ship.”
“The elk ship?”
“He’ll know what I mean. Here, this is for your trouble.”
Helgi kissed the piece of hack silver and tossed it to the fisherman. Beowulf could tell from his tone of voice that the fisherman was both surprised and delighted by Helgi’s generosity.
“My thanks! I will get the dracca out here before noon so that you don’t stray too far. Hudda is a fine seaman he would not leave a ship adrift if he could help. My name is Tofi, look
for me if you ever pitch up at Saro and I will stand you all ale.”
Helgi smiled and waved as Tofi headed back to port.
“They are a friendly lot around here, lord.” He smiled at the men sat below him. “I can’t think why you would want to hide in my hold.”
The current continued to draw them south for the rest of the morning and they were almost level with the mouth of the estuary when the distinctive prow of a dracca swept into view. Beowulf’s heart leapt as the familiar lines of the Griffon, his father's ship, cleared the headland and pointed its prow in their direction.
They had reattached the steer board of the Puffin as soon as the fishing boats had cleared the point but in truth it would be a futile gesture if the oncoming ship contained hostile warriors. Helgi glanced across to Beowulf.
“They are really moving, lord. I hope that they are friends of yours.”
They watched as the twin banks of oars rose and fell in perfect unison as the Griffon sped towards the wallowing shape of the stationary Puffin.
Beowulf grinned as he recognised the figure at the helm of the oncoming ship. Backing oars the dracca slewed to a halt alongside them. Shipping their oars one of the crew threw across a mooring rope which they could use to draw the ships together. Helgi was clearly impressed at the display of seamanship.
“That’s a fine crew, lord. Yours?”
Beowulf clapped him proudly on the shoulder.
“My father’s!”
As soon as they were close enough Hudda made his way amidships and called across to Helgi.
“Permission to board, ship master.”
Helgi grinned.
“What if I say no?”
“I’ll break out the weapons and bring twenty warriors with me!” Hudda replied.
Helgi laughed.
“It’s best you come aboard then. I don’t think that we have that much spare room!”
Hudda vaulted the gap between the ships and landed before them. He hugged Beowulf as the smiling Cola and Gunnar looked on.
“Welcome home, lord!”
Beowulf looked across at the Griffon. Rows of smiling faces stared back at him across the divide.