by Griff Hosker
Chapter 2
My lords were so keen to meet me that many arrived early. They were the ones who lived south of the River Seine. The last to arrive were the ones who lived further north. These were the ones I knew the least well. These were the sons of lords who had followed my banners. Erik Gillesson was my horse lord. He had more mounted warriors than any other lord. It was he who bred the larger horses such as the ones I rode. When he arrived, I took him and Sámr to one side. Before I spoke with all of my lords, I needed them to know my mind. I told them what I had planned. Sámr was already party to some of it for I had spoken with him in Caen. The voyage home and my conversation with Godwin had clarified my thoughts. I was not seeking permission. I was Lord of Normandy, I needed no man’s approval. I wanted their opinion. I needed to know if they had any thoughts. Erik and his horsemen were vital to my plans. They both liked the idea in principle but also thought of ways of doing things differently.
“Lord, it seems to me that we would not need as many ships to raid this abbey. In fact, the smaller the number the greater the chance of success. We can use knarr and snekke to attack the Count of the Bretons but we cannot risk them carrying men across the open sea.”
I nodded, “You may be right, Sámr. That would also allow us more time to convert the knarr to become warships. And you, Erik, you are happy with your task?”
He smiled and I saw his father in that smile, “You wish us to ride the borders and keep them safe. Riding is a joy and the chance to protect our land is a privilege. Besides, I would not wish to board my horses on ships and risk the voyage to Wessex.”
“Good then I have my plan and when all are here, I will tell them.”
As men arrived, I greeted them. Some of them were chosen by me for a special greeting. Bergil, Harold Mighty Fist, Haraldr, Bjorn the Brave, Gandálfr and Leif. I spoke with each of them individually so that they knew my mind. The rest I gave the same greeting. I was their liege lord.
Father Harold knew how to organise and we had food and ale which was of the highest quality. We had plenty of servants and slaves. I feasted my lords before I spoke with them. Bergil now looked a lot healthier. He had lost weight and was no longer as heavy. In the time since I had last seen him, he had worked hard. I had given him a purpose. I had him at my right hand and Sámr my left. My son and Erik Gillesson were not put out. They knew the bond I had with my two oldest friends.
We had not all met together for a long time. Men who had fought and raided together were eager to catch up. Those who still remained from the Paris raid relived those days when we had humbled the Franks and won our land. The younger ones, the sons who might have been on the raid but did not lead spoke of their future glory. That was a risk for they were tempting The Norns. Skuld did not like men to plan for a future they determined. I said the least of any. I let the words flow around me. I looked at faces. I saw, in some men, the fathers I had led. Habor the Rus’ son, Henry, looked exactly like his father. Yet Olaf Olafsson looked nothing like Olaf Two Teeth. Of course, he had not lost his front teeth yet but he looked more like a Frank than a Viking. He did a good job for he held Djupr for me. That had increasingly become an important port. It traded with the Frisians, the Flemish, even the Saxons of Lundenwic. He was prosperous and I saw rings upon his fingers. They looked to be made of silver. Vikings did not wear rings on their fingers. That was a Frankish affectation. If nothing else that told me that my people were changing. I saw Harold Mighty Fist’s sons: Ragnar and Harold. They flanked their father. He looked old. The three looked like Vikings. Their hair was still wild and they wore battle rings about their arms. They had the weathered looks of men who spent more time outdoors than in. As I gazed around my hall, I saw that there were more men who looked like Vikings than Franks.
The ones who were missing from my feast were priests. The three I employed were nowhere to be seen. They would be in the kitchens organising the servants but they would not share my table. I knew that in the land of the Franks the Bishops and Archbishops were important men. Archbishop Franco was the Archbishop of Rouen but he had not been invited. If he took that as a slight then I would lose no sleep over the matter. I knew that in the cities of the Franks such an oversight would have brought censure. Archbishop Franco and I had an understanding and we rarely had to speak to each other. I attended his church when I could. It was not often.
When I was ready, I nodded to Mauger. He nodded back and the doors were closed. Men would guard them. When I spoke to my lords the words I used would be for their ears only. They would tell others, of that I had no doubt, but that was their choice. I was giving them the courtesy of hearing them from my own lips.
“My lords it has been many years since Paris. We have all prospered.” I pointed to Haraldr Blue Eyes, “Haraldr you show your prosperity about your waist!” That made all the men laugh. He had not become bloated like Bergil but he had grown. “Perhaps we should call you Harold Beer Belly eh?” That brought more guffaws. In answer, Haraldr raised his horn and quaffed it in one.
“We have sat idle too long. There is a count of the Bretons who seeks to rule that land. There are many Viking farms which are now ruled by Bretons. Alan the Great took advantage of our distraction in Paris and stole them.” I paused for effect and looked around the room. “It is time we took them back!”
That evoked the response I hoped. Men banged dagger hilts and their hands upon the table. It sounded like thunder. A cacophony of noise rose. I looked down at Sámr, he was grinning. He mouthed, “I told you!”
I held up my hands and the noise gradually subsided, “We leave at Tvímánuður. Caen and Ouistreham will be the muster points.”
Gandálfr shouted, “This time we keep what we take?”
“Aye. We hold all that we can grab. We make our borders safe and we become richer.”
Olaf Olafsson said, “What of the Church? Will not the Pope object to us making war on a Christian lord?”
The reaction of men like Harold Mighty Fist and his sons as well as the other Viking warriors told him what the majority of my men thought. They howled him down. I had been baptised but more than half of my men had not. Of course, some of their sons were Christian. Olaf was one but Harold’s sons still followed the old ways.
I quietened down the howling. “Olaf Olafsson is right to bring up the matter and I have thought about this. I have spoken with priests, Olaf. They tell me that the risk is to me! If the Pope disapproves then I may well be excommunicated.” I saw then the handful of truly Christian lords I had for their hands went to their crosses. Olaf was one of them. I smiled, “That means I will not be able to hear the services from Archbishop Franco. That saddens me!” My Vikings saw the grin on my face and they all laughed. I held up my hands for silence. “However, I do not think that will happen. King Charles will be happy that a potential enemy is destroyed. I have kept my word to the King and he is now more secure. That should keep us safe. If, Olaf Olafsson, you do not wish to risk censure from the church then speak with me before you leave.”
He smiled and shook his head, “Oh no, lord, I just wondered. The Bretons are rich and I would like to take their treasure.”
“Good. I have not yet fully finalised my plans and so the details will be given to you on the first day of Tvímánuður when you are gathered at Caen. For the rest enjoy the ale and then, Haraldr Blue Eyes, prepare to go to war. Either that or have a new byrnie made!”
I sat down and Sámr said, “They are keen. I am surprised none asked why we delay so long.”
“As am I. We will see if they ask before they go.”
William leaned over and said, as quietly as he could, “Of course if the Bretons are prepared then we know there are traitors amongst our men, father.”
I smiled for the thought had already crossed my mind. “There is that, my son. However, none, not even you, know the target yet.” I tapped my head, “That is still in here. Some may be unhappy that they were not included in the Wessex raid. We will see if they object when the
y do hear of it.”
When the majority of my captains left, a couple of days later, they might have wondered why some did not. They were the ones who would raid Wessex with me. All had brought, at my request, their own drekar and they were moored in my river. My ship and my son’s drekar were already prepared for sea. Erik Leifsson had spent the time since I had returned from Caen preparing for the voyage. While the crews prepared their ships and their weapons for the raid, I gathered my handful of captains in my Great Hall.
“We have created many of our own problems. We have raided Hamwic and Wintan-Ceastre so many times that they have improved their defences to the point that we would lose more than we would gain by attempting them.” Godwin Red Eyes was invited to the meeting. He knew the land and I had spoken to him at length. I pointed to him, “Godwin here has given me the solution. There is a small village of a hundred or so people. It lies on the coast to the south of the abbey. They call it Hamafunta. There is also an island close by. Men use it to collect salt but none live there. We will sail to this island. When it is dark, we approach the village from two directions. We capture it. We do not burn it. We do not slaughter the inhabitants. We hold them. They guarantee that we can leave. We take their horses. It is twenty miles to the abbey. We will need to approach it from the north. Scouts can use the horses to guide us through the forests and greenways during the day.”
Haraldr said, “We risk being seen, lord.”
“The only place which has a number of people on our route is Drokensford. There is an abbey there but no burgh. We hold that one too. This way we have two places which are defensible when we fall back. I hope to get to the abbey with the treasure by dark. We raid at night. They will know we have raided but, by then, we will be on our way back to our ships. They will search towards Hamwic first. By the time they know we have left for the south coast, we should be at Drokensford.”
Sámr nodded, “You have thought this out well, lord.”
I laughed, “I may be old but my mind still functions. This is just to warm us up for the attack on Brittany. I confess that there will be little glory in this raid. We go for treasure and to see if my senior warriors still have that which they need.”
Harold Mighty Fist said, indignantly, “We do, lord!”
“Do not be offended. I speak of myself. The last time I raised a weapon in anger was in the battle of Paris. When we raid the Bretons there will young warriors who are keen to show how brave they are. I need you, warriors, to be the older wiser heads.”
We spent the rest of the day looking at what we knew of the coast and the tides. We identified who would watch Drokensford and who would guard Hamafunta. I gave Bergil the task of watching Hamafunta and Harold Mighty Fist, Drokensford. Now that they knew we would not face warriors it was not a problem. Father Harold had secured many arrows and, before they left, they were distributed. We would leave in two days’ time. It would take all day and more to reach the island. Once we were there then time would be of the essence.
As well as my hearth weru I was taking some of the young warriors from Rouen. When they heard that I was raiding they were keen to join me. Some were the sons of warriors who had died. Others were not Vikings but the children of Franks who lived in Rouen and the lands close by. I allowed Mauger and Erik to choose them. These men were not rowers but they had good weapons and helmets. The days when Lord Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson chose his crew were long gone. Duke Robert allowed his men to pick them. Erik would choose those with broad backs while Mauger would choose those who could use a sword. They did not need mail nor even a helmet. When and if they went on the Breton raid then they would. I had a servant. Galmr had been one of Sven’s warriors. He had been hamstrung at the battle of Paris. When Sven died, he begged me to take him on as a servant. I did so for he was a brave man and his lameness did not impair his ability to lift and carry. He would come with us and remain at Hamafunta with Bergil. He carried my chest aboard and laid it by the steering board. His own chest he put by the prow. We were the first aboard for I wanted to see my new crew. I wanted to gauge their potential. The way they boarded would tell me much about them. Mauger and Erik had chosen the best that there was. I needed to know how they would fare in battle.
Erik and his ship’s boys were already there. “How are the winds, Leif?”
“They are from the south and west, lord.” He sniffed the air, almost like a hound. Good navigators had the ability to smell a wind. “It will last a few days. See how the clouds are scudding. We will have a wet voyage but a swift one.”
My hearth weru followed me and placed their chests closest to the steering board. They then went to select their oars. All were experienced rowers. They all had their own preferences. I watched the crew as they followed. I saw some with their father’s old byrnie or helmet. All of them had a sword and some had a spear. This was not Norway and most men did not have the sealskin boots I wore. They had leather ones. Sealskin was better. Their chests looked lighter than mine. I had acquired things over the years. Some I might not need but I carried them anyway. I doubted that they would have sealskin capes. If Erik was right, and he was rarely wrong, then we would have wet weather. It would not hurt the younger men but they would not be as comfortable as I was. I also noticed that none had a seax. It was an old-fashioned weapon. The Saxons used them. Most had a dagger. It was a handy weapon but a seax could gut a man better than any dagger. It was a slashing, ripping weapon. A warrior did not thrust with it. I frowned when I saw most of their shields. They were the smaller type favoured by Franks. They were of more use on a horse than on foot. They were easier to make and lighter. Mine could take a blow from a Danish axe and survive. We would not be fighting housecarls but it was something I would need to bear in mind when we went to Brittany.
When the last man came aboard and Erik prepared to sail, I found myself become excited. I had been doing this for so many years that there were none who had done it longer yet I was still excited. Perhaps that kept me young. I had seen well over sixty summers but I did not feel the years. I was going to raid Wessex. I was doing that for which I had been born.
“We are ready, lord. We just await the others!”
I nodded, “Let us hurry them up. We will set sail.” I roared, “To your oars!” As I had intended my voice carried and I saw my other captains beginning to hurry their crews on the other drekar. We were all having to relearn what had been second nature to us. The exception was William, my son. I saw that his crew on ‘Dragon Wolf’ were already preparing to row. I stood with my hands on my hips and addressed the crew, “Today we will see your worth! I know not many of you. This voyage will show me what you are made of. I will find your flaws as we row. I will lead you in a chant! It will help you row and remind you of our heritage. We are called Normans now but never forget whence we came! We were Vikings.” I stamped my foot so hard that the ship shivered, “I still am!”
Ragnvald Ragnvaldson was cursed from his birth
Through his dark life, he was a curse to the earth
A brother nearly drowned and father stabbed
The fortunes of the clan ever ebbed
The Norns they wove and Hrólfr lived
From the dark waters, he survived.
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson he became
A giant of a man with a mighty name
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson with the Longsword
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson with his Longsword
When the brothers met by Rouen’s walls
Warriors emptied from warrior halls
Then Ragnvald Ragnvaldson became the snake
Letting others’ shields the chances take
Arne the Breton Slayer used a knife in the back
Longsword he beat that treacherous attack
When the snake it tired and dropped its guard
Then Longsword struck swift and hard
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson with the Longsword
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson with his Longsword
And with that sword, he took the hand
That killed his father and his land
With no sword, the snake was doomed
To rot with Hel in darkness entombed
When the head was struck and the brother died
The battle ended and the clan all cried
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson with the Longsword
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson with his Longsword
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson with the Longsword
Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson with his Longsword
We did not row hard but we and my son’s ship soon left the others far behind. I saw that Erik was pleased. “They were trying to impress you, lord.”
I laughed, “Good, that was what I intended. In oars. We will let the current take the ship until the others catch us up.”
When they did catch us up, we rowed down my river. It took more than half a day to reach the sea. We did not row hard, there was no need. The current was strong. Once we reached the sea we continued to row for an hour. The hourglass we now used meant we were much more accurate. Then Erik let loose the sail and ‘Fafnir’ flew! I sat on my chest and enjoyed the horn of ale from Galmr. “Bread and cheese too, Galmr. This sea air has given me an appetite.”
Mauger joined me, “It will be easier sailing from Caen, lord.” He was thinking of the Breton raid.
“Aye, I like my port but all those bends make for a long journey to reach the sea.” I looked at the young warrior. Everyone looked young to me and Mauger was older than William. He had gone with William and Godwin on raids. That was how he had become one of my hearth weru. He had saved William when they had been ambushed by some Northumbrians. William had his own hearth weru and had known I sought younger warriors. He was a thoughtful warrior and one of the strongest men I had ever known. I was confident that he and his men could protect me from danger.
“You have fought the Saxons for many years, lord.”
“Aye, I fought the Franks more but I know the Saxons. They are not as easy to defeat as they once were. They have learned to make and sail ships. They know how to fight us at sea. My friend Guthrum defeated them but, in the end, they tamed him and defeated him.”