Wolves of War

by Martin Lake

  The warriors murmured, many of them darting venomous glances at Eohric for what he had done to Aebbe and to Godgyth.

  ‘Leif listened to what had happened,’ Ivar continued, ‘and then, despite the pleas of his friends, he went in search of Eohric. Many of you saw what took place. Leif challenged Eohric for the attack upon his wife and daughter. Eohric laughed about the death of the child and claimed that Aebbe had invited him to her bed.’

  The warriors glanced at Aebbe. She was an attractive woman and had turned the head of more than a few of them. Many wondered that such a woman should be the property of a man like Leif, poor, no warrior and with no renown. Of course, she was little better than a slave so likely to give herself to any man who happened on the scene. Those who thought like this were inclined to believe Eohric when he spoke of her lust for him.

  ‘At that point,’ Ivar said, ‘Leif leapt on Eohric. It was a bitter, fierce struggle. Leif was the weaker in terms of strength and skill but his fury bore Eohric to the ground. But Eohric had more than just strength and skill. He had the cunning of a warrior, and the luck.’

  Here Eohric smirked, basking in Ivar’s words which he took for a compliment. But those who saw this were not as gleeful as he was.

  ‘Eohric,’ Ivar continued, ‘clawed at a handful of earth and stones and plunged them into Leif’s eye, gouging it out completely. It was then that Guthrum pulled Eohric from Leif and punished him, as many of you saw.’

  Those who had witnessed the events nodded, remembering the power and fury which Guthrum had displayed. Those who had not seen it seemed envious. Eohric’s injuries spoke eloquently of the dreadful punishment and it would have been pleasant to behold.

  A silence fell upon the camp. The story had been told and retold many times and few had heard a version which agreed with any other. But Ivar said this version was the truth and so it was accepted.

  ‘You must judge who is guilty of the crime,’ Ivar cried. ‘Leif for attacking Eohric? Or Eohric for raping Leif’s wife and killing his child?’

  Warrior turned to warrior in fevered debate.

  Leif’s heart grew cold as he watched them. What will happen to me if I’m found guilty, he wondered. Will I lose everything? My wealth, my standing, my position as Skald, my life?

  And what will happen to Aebbe?

  He knew that many men despised her because she was English and yet they lusted after her. They would believe she had invited Eohric to her bed. And, jealous and vindictive, they would want her punished as the cause of all the trouble.

  At last the heated debate grew calmer. Eventually, one old warrior climbed to his feet. He was a wise and trusted man and all turned to hear his opinion.

  ‘Eohric,’ he cried. ‘Eohric, is the guilty man.’

  ‘Eohric,’ echoed another close by.

  Soon the whole assembly was baying out the same. Very few spoke up for Eohric and their voices were drowned out.

  Ivar held up his hand for silence.

  ‘Judgement has been made,’ he cried. ‘Eohric and Leif step forward to hear the sentence.’

  Eohric stepped forward, his face arrogant and yet nervous. Leif pretended to struggle to rise and had to be helped by Deor. He trudged forward slowly and stood in front of the brothers and the chieftains.

  ‘You wear a patch?’ Ubbe asked. ‘Is there good cause for it?’

  Leif nodded and Ubbe gestured for him to remove it.

  With a great show of reluctance Leif did so and turned to the assembled army. The warriors leaned forward to get a better look and a gasp of mingled horror and fascination spread amongst them. Those nearby grimaced. The eye socket was a charred and disfigured mass of blackened flesh. An empty void could just be glimpsed behind it.

  Ivar allowed the sight of the injury to sink in before continuing.

  ‘The army has concluded that Eohric is the guilty man,’ he said. ‘This is the punishment, the judgement of my brothers and me.’

  The warriors fell silent and leaned closer. They looked forward to a juicy and controversial punishment.

  ‘Eohric will pay wergild,’ Ivar continued, ‘for the attack upon Leif’s wife, the consequent assault on his honour, the death of his child, the loss of his eye, his broken fingers and various other injuries.’

  He stared at the assembled warriors, daring any of them to contest his judgement. None did.

  ‘For this, Eohric will pay Leif one thousand silver pennies.’

  Most of the warriors nodded in approval. This was a just settlement.

  ‘In addition,’ Ivar continued, ‘Eohric must serve Leif as his thrall for one year and a day.’

  Eohric heard this in horror and disbelief. He screamed in rage.

  The army gasped. This was an immense penalty, more than any thought would be demanded, or was appropriate.

  ‘For let us remember that Leif is no mere Skald,’ Ivar continued. ‘He is my sworn man and had left his woman here, in our care, while on a dangerous mission for us all, a mission which resulted in him being captured and treated ill by the Saxons.’

  Each warrior pondered this and slowly, most came to see the wisdom of Ivar’s judgement

  ‘This has been decided,’ Ivar said.

  After a moment Guthrum stood and asked leave to speak.

  ‘My brother has done much evil,’ he said, ‘and well deserves to pay a heavy fine. But he is the son of a Jarl and I cannot think it right that he becomes the thrall of a man who is the brother of a lowly blacksmith.’

  ‘He may have started life as the brother of a smith,’ Ivar said, ‘but he is my sworn man now. He is also a valuable member of this host, more valuable, may I say, than your wastrel brother.’

  Guthrum stared at Ivar. He knew that there was no point in arguing further. He nodded his head in acquiescence.

  Eohric stared at his brother in shock and then cried out, ‘You bastard. You traitor. You’ve always hated me.’

  Guthrum’s face reddened in fury but he mastered his rage and turned to Ivar.

  ‘I accept your judgement on Eohric,’ he said, ‘for it is just and he deserves no better. But his punishment will shame my family. My father is an old man and news of Eohric’s dishonour may prove the death of him. Is there any price I can pay to buy him back?’

  ‘Do you want him back?’ Ivar asked in surprise. ‘I wouldn’t.’

  ‘My wishes are not important,’ Guthrum said. ‘I think only of my family’s honour.’

  Ivar gestured to his brothers and they spoke a while together. Then they summoned the rest of the jarls and spoke with them.

  ‘Guthrum,’ Ivar said at last, ‘even though Eohric lacks honour himself, as a member of such a great and noble family, he is worth a great deal of treasure. We deem the price of his honour is a longship.’

  He turned to Leif. ‘Do you accept this, my Skald?’

  Leif was too astonished to answer and could only manage a nod.

  ‘But that’s a sixth of our fleet,’ Guthrum said.

  ‘Then I suggest you take if from Eohric’s half,’ Ivar responded.

  Guthrum shot a bitter glance at Eohric and nodded his agreement. He was just about to walk away when Ivar stopped him.

  ‘That is wergild for Leif. But what about the insult to me?’

  Guthrum swallowed visibly. ‘What would you have from me, Ivar the Boneless?’

  ‘Nothing more from you, Guthrum. But from Eohric I will take a second ship.’

  ‘That leaves me with virtually nothing,’ Eohric cried.

  ‘You are nothing,’ Ivar said. ‘And you only have your freedom because of your brother’s generosity. Be thankful to him, and to me.’

  And with that he strode away.

  A MAN OF GREAT STANDING

  The whole army was agog for several days at this sudden reversal of Eohric’s and Leif’s fortunes. Most, who bore a strong dislike for Eohric, were jubilant. But there were a number of men who supported him and felt great anger at the judgement against him. Leif might be r
ich now but he felt anxious for his and his family’s safety.

  He was not alone in these fears. Kolga lent him Vafri and Asta, her two lovers and best warriors to guard him.

  Many of the men from Eohric’s ships had no desire to serve directly under Ivar and asked to serve with Leif. But he was nervous of making such a choice, fearing to make as many enemies as friends.

  In the end, Thorvald informed him that he had decided to be his ship-master and would be happy to make the selection. ‘I know better than you who to choose,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ Leif replied in relief. ‘After all, you made an excellent choice of yourself as ship-master.’

  They laughed aloud. Both knew his words to be true.

  Leif should have begun to feel less worried once his crew had been chosen. He now had thirty sworn followers while Eohric had few. But the thought of this merely alarmed him. He felt sure that, despite Ivar’s words, it would lead to a feud.

  Fortunately, Guthrum appeared to hold no ill-will against Leif. He would speak pleasantly to him when they met and once even asked how he liked being the owner of a longship.

  Leif wondered at his good-humour for it did not seem natural and he sought the view of Thorvald.

  ‘There are two reasons,’ Thorvald explained. ‘One is that Guthrum believes Eohric’s actions brought shame on him and his father.

  ‘The second is that he has a great appetite for power. He always has and now it waxes prodigiously. He seeks Ivar’s approval and patronage and will do nothing to jeopardise this.’

  ‘This means more to him than his brother?’

  ‘Much more. Guthrum tolerates Eohric and will support him if he is in trouble. But only up to a point. And that point is where his own position and ambitions are at risk.’

  The next day Leif decided that he would seek out Guthrum. If he had such a hunger for power then it was wise to keep on good terms with him.

  He found him in even better humour than he’d hoped.

  ‘Come,’ Guthrum said, gesturing Leif to a seat. ‘Join me at my meat.’

  Leif thanked him nervously, his suspicions aroused. Maybe his former attitude to me was an act, he thought. Maybe he means to poison me.

  Guthrum gave him a trencher and placed hot pork on it with his own hands. A female slave poured wine for them.

  Leif waited until Guthrum had taken a deep swallow from his cup before taking a sip of his own. ‘This is good,’ he said.

  ‘I prefer wine to ale,’ Guthrum said, ‘although I don’t let my men know this. They might think I’m growing soft as a Frank.’

  ‘I doubt any man would believe that. Or they wouldn’t tell you to your face, at any rate.’

  Guthrum laughed and raised his cup in salute. ‘You know that I bear you no ill-will, Leif,’ he said. ‘I burned in shame at what my brother had done to your woman and child.’

  ‘Not what he did to me?’

  Guthrum shrugged. ‘It was a fair fight between two men.’

  Eohric’s way of fighting did not seem fair to Leif but he thought it best to let it pass.

  ‘You were lucky to receive such huge wealth,’ Guthrum continued. ‘Ivar meant to make an example of my brother. He cannot risk trouble amongst the men and wished to show the sort of penalty that will be meted out to those who cause it. It was a lesson that all took to heart. More than that, he wanted to make it good and clear that he leads the army and his word is law. He will brook no opposition.’

  ‘But you suffered most from his judgement.’

  He smiled. ‘You think so?’

  Leif frowned in surprise.

  Guthrum laughed and gestured for more wine.

  ‘Ivar gave me back the ship he took from me although he has not let this be known as yet. He’ll wait until returning it to me appears a sign of his great magnanimity.’

  Leif shook his head in confusion. ‘But why would he take with one hand and give back with the other?’

  ‘You’re supposed to be the wise one, Leif. You tell me.’

  ‘Because he doesn’t want to antagonise you?’

  Guthrum nodded. ‘Ivar knows my worth. But he also wanted the men to know that he had power over me.’

  ‘Did you know this was going to happen?’ Leif asked. ‘Did you and Ivar plan it this way?’

  Guthrum smiled at the suggestion. ‘No. I am not as cunning as that. I leave such complex strategies to the likes of you and Ivar.’

  ‘I am hardly a man of great strategy. If I were I wouldn’t have fought your brother.’

  ‘You did that out of passion and anger. Out of a desire for vengeance for your woman and child. It is good that you did so. It shows you have as much heart as head.’

  He gave Leif a curious look before continuing. ‘One day, Leif, you might consider becoming my Skald. My man of cunning.’

  Leif must have looked alarmed at the prospect for Guthrum laughed and took a deep draught of his wine.

  ‘I don’t mean now,’ he said. ‘Not while Ivar still rules.’

  ‘But Eohric —’

  ‘Will do exactly as I command. If I choose to take you into my service I shall do so. And Eohric will not be allowed to object.’

  Leif inclined his head. It seemed too unlikely a prospect to waste any more thought on. But he was flattered, none the less.

  ‘So, we at least are friends?’ he said tentatively.

  ‘We are friends,’ Guthrum replied, taking Leif’s hand. ‘But a word of warning. Stay clear of Eohric. Don’t fight with him and don’t boast of what you have taken from him.’

  ‘I didn’t take it. I was given it. By Ivar.’

  ‘Eohric does not think that way. I fear he will ever be your enemy.’

  Leif spent the summer months recovering his strength and getting used to seeing with only one eye. To his surprise he found that his use of a bow improved greatly. He had always been an enthusiastic but indifferent bowman but now he found he had unerring aim. Thorvald told him this was not unusual and pointed out how many bowmen closed one eye when they aimed.

  Whenever he could, Leif went out on his ship, taking Thorvald and Asgrim to give him guidance on how to act as a captain. Asgrim had asked Ivar to be released from his crew so that he could join with Thorvald in teaching Leif the skills necessary. He learned to play the part to some extent but all three men knew that in an emergency he would be worse than useless. But he knew he could rely on his friends to captain his ship, come what may.

  Despite Leif’s new-found wealth and position Ivar soon made it clear that his status in relation to him had not changed. Leif was still his Skald and still his sworn man. Not that he recalled ever actually swearing an oath. But he did not complain. The closer he was to Ivar the greater his safety from Eohric and his dwindling but malicious band of friends.

  As the days wore on towards autumn he began to grow less worried about Eohric. He seemed like a wolf which had lost its teeth.

  And then, one day, to Leif’s surprise, Eohric stopped him in the street.

  ‘I had a dream last night,’ he said. ‘Odin came to me and told me that the enmity between the gods would prove their undoing and would lead to their doom. I told him that this fate was long written. He agreed but seemed sorrowful, nonetheless. And then he drew me closer and said that the fate of gods need not be that of men.’

  He looked at Leif and gave a rueful grin. ‘I have wronged you, Leif. My dream of Odin made me realise this and vow to make all right between us.’

  He held out his hand.

  At first Leif was reluctant to take it but decided he had little choice. If he refused, word of it would spread and he would be deemed a craven.

  Eohric’s grasp was surprisingly warm and forthright.

  Leif stared after him as he left, confused by what appeared to be his change of heart.

  Later that day, he spoke to Aebbe about it. She was dismissive of Eohric’s actions.

  ‘He’s doing it for his own purposes,’ she said. ‘To win back the
favour of Ivar or Guthrum. He’s a snake and I will never trust him. And nor should you.’

  Sigurd listened more carefully and pondered for so long Leif thought he had fallen asleep.

  ‘I think that Odin truly spoke to Eohric,’ he said at last. ‘Whether his change of heart is genuine or because of fear of the God, I can’t say. But it is a change of heart and it behoves you to treat it as genuine.’

  Leif did not seek advice from Thorvald. His long acquaintance with Eohric had only led to distrust and enmity.

  In the end Leif decided that he would be civil to Eohric but nothing more.

  TO EAST ANGLIA

  That autumn there were many nights with a halo around the moon, the squirrels gathered acorns with unwonted frenzy and ducks and geese headed south earlier than usual. It looked like the coming winter would be unusually hard. Ivar and his captains felt that Northumbria might not sustain the whole army and decided that they would be better going to lands they had not ravaged for a while.

  Ivar decided that a quarter of the army would be left in Jorvic to make sure that Echberht behaved and kept the Vikings’ interests at heart. The rest were to head south.

  But the captains were still undecided where to attack, with Halfdan and Ubbe in favour of Wessex and Ivar inclining to Mercia. Leif was summoned and informed of the dilemma.

  ‘You spent time in the south,’ Ivar said. ‘What would you advise?’

  Any answer would antagonise one or other of the brothers so, after a moment’s hesitation, Leif decided it would be wise to say what he believed to be the truth.

  ‘I would advise against attacking Wessex,’ he said. ‘It is a place of great wealth which makes it attractive. But it has a strong army and the king and his brother are astute and energetic. I don’t think they will be easily defeated nor cowed. And they have very good advisers, who they listen to.’

  ‘As we are listening to you,’ Halfdan said.

  Leif could not read what was behind his words, whether critical or admiring. He thought it best to continue as quickly as possible in order to get this dangerous questioning over with.