by Griff Hosker
“Olaf thinks he is safe. He is on what he believes to be an island. He is well protected by Count Arnulf’s men and he is counting down the days to my death for he plans on becoming Count.”
“Men would not accept him, lord. There is your son.”
“My son is well respected but he is not me. Besides, there were lords who rebelled against me. They reside with Olaf. There might be others. I am no fool, Sámr Oakheart. I am too honest. If a lord offends me then I tell him. I do not hold his offence against him but we both know that there are men who brood about such matters. I would sail there at Gormánuður. It is the time of the annual autumn storms and they will least expect an attack.”
“Is that not a dangerous time?”
I laughed, “Sámr Oakheart, remember our voyage here? We sailed from Norway. This is a little voyage up the coast. It will take less than half a day to reach it. Olaf would not do it but we can. I need your drekar and your men. I will not be taking my horsemen. I will take ‘Fafnir’. Your son heard that the snake’s lair is a well-apportioned hall. There may be treasure. King Charles did not wish me to raid the men of Flanders. He said nothing about former Normans and rebels!”
By the time I left Sámr’s suggestions had improved my plan considerably. I rode back to Rouen and this time I took in the beauty of the land. My father had never seen the dream of our family come to fruition. My grandfather had but neither could have imagined what we would have achieved in my lifetime. The thought that flickered through my mind, as we approached the Seine, was, ‘would I live to see a grandson?’ I looked at my two standard bearers. If the Norns had spun and that was not to be so then I would have to make do with Robert and Leif. If nothing else I could train them to be warriors, lords even. The lands of Normandy and Brittany would need them when I was in the Otherworld. The cough I had developed, on the ride north, was a warning. I was a man and not a god. I could still suffer illnesses and I was now of an age where such things could be fatal. I was being neither maudlin nor melancholic, I was being practical.
Chapter 9
Summer came and passed. Whichever god watched over Normandy, he looked after us. Our crops were good. My son’s wife gave birth to a daughter. He named her Mathilde. When I thought of King Charles and his six daughters I began to worry. My son was also getting older. Daughters and bastards were not enough. He needed a legitimate son. There were too many who would refuse to recognise a bastard. William would try again. We also heard that the date for the marriage of King Charles to Eadgifu had been set for the following year. It was my Archbishop brought me the news. He also brought me a private message. I would not be invited to the wedding. His lords were becoming increasingly restless and my appearance at the funeral of his wife had done nothing to ease their concern. I did not mind.
In the time leading up to our raid, I threw myself into improvements on my stronghold and port. I built towers to watch the ships in the river. I had raided and knew how vulnerable ports were to Viking raids. I had enough of a reputation to stop most Vikings attacking me but there were other raiders who did not know me and they might just be desperate enough to risk my wrath. The lower tower would be permanently manned and the other three manned during a time of danger. We improved my gatehouse and we added cauldrons which could be tipped so that we could pour boiling fat or oil upon an attacker. I had seen stone throwers and I set Egil and my men to make a pair. To keep the church on my side I added to the cathedral and ordered a new bell to be cast. The majority of those in my town were Christians and it would do no harm to be seen to be rewarding the church. The fact that the bell could summon men to our aid was a bonus. Many of my men had done as I had done and taken the dousing for a quiet life. There were some, however, who had embraced the new religion. Thus far they had shown no sign of the weakness I saw in other Christians. Even my converted warriors still fought as hard as any.
The promised silver arrived from Paris. I sent some of it to my new lords in the northern marches. Then I took a large chest of silver and I rode to Montfort and Erik’s mighty stronghold. He had built four towers and their bases were made of stone. As we neared his land, I saw that the fields were filled with horses. Erik was now one of the richest men in my land. When we raided his men had more opportunity for treasure. However, he made as much coin from breeding and then selling horses as he did from raiding. King Charles’ Franks recognised quality. As well as telling Erik of my plans I intended buying more horses from him. I had seen the efficacy of horsemen. The days of the seaborne raider were numbered. Ports like Caen, Rouen, Nantes and Vannes now had defences which could destroy an attacker who came by sea. Horsemen riding from a centrally positioned and well-defended stronghold could control vast areas and, when we attacked, could cut a town off before they had the chance to send for help. I had men in Rouen who would be trained to be riders.
Erik was pleased to see his son and, like Sámr, interested in my news. Like Bjorn the Brave, Erik lived close to the border with Frankia. If there was a change in leadership then he would be the first to be in danger. Erik was already a grandfather. His daughter had given birth to another grandson. I envied Erik for I would never see a grandchild grow to be a man. Erik would. Erik had a comfortable stronghold. It was made of stone. Part of the defences were ancient ditches and he had improved what had been there before. His feasting hall was enormous. It rivalled Rouen and Caen. I knew that some leaders and princes resented those beneath them having more than they did. I did not. I applauded Erik and his home.
As we ate and drank, he told me of his horses. “Blue is the first of the mighty horses. He is the biggest. Perhaps he is a freak of nature. I would borrow him, lord, to breed even better horses.”
I nodded, “I can let you have him whenever you wish.”
“I have a couple of mares in season now but if you let me have him for the winter, then he can cover more of my mares. Some will be as big as Blue but others will be far bigger still than the horses we have bred up to now. Our warriors are bigger than Franks. We wear mail. It is a good combination.”
“It is one thing to have the horse and the mail but they need to be trained too. We both know that you are the best man to do that.”
“And I am getting no younger.” He pointed to his sons. Gilles rode with me but there were two others, Erik Gillesson and Bagsecg Gillesson. “They are the future.”
“Then I shall give them a fief each.”
Gilles said, “I thank you for the honour, lord, but I would like to serve you a little while longer and learn from you. When we met with Mauger he confided in me that he had learned from watching you. I have seen much already and we have yet to fight.”
“Then when you are ready you shall have one but your other sons, Erik and Bagsecg shall both have a fief now. When I leave, we will ride north of the river. There are some fine lands there. I have silver from the King, Erik. I will buy the horses your sons need to begin their herds. They can pay me with a tenth of the foals that they train. A man can never have too many horses.”
Bagsecg and Erik were good men. Bagsecg was the eldest. I had fought alongside him and knew him to be puissant. He had a wife and two sons. Erik was also married but he had no children. We left their wives at home when we rode north. All of us were keenly aware that rebellion had taken the lords of the farms I would give to them. There were two which I thought were suitable. They had been the closest ones to Rouen which had been attacked. As such, I had emptied both manors of all who had rebelled. They were like settlements of ghosts. Montville and Quincampoix were just five miles apart and ten miles north of Rouen. I had been seeking two trustworthy lords to begin the work of settling them and Erik and Bagsecg were perfect. Montville was a better site for a stronghold while Quincampoix had the best land for horses. Both would need to be rebuilt but the two older sons of Erik Gillesson liked what they saw. I promised to send men to help them build. We had slaves we had taken in raids. They laboured improving roads and working on our churches. They could help bui
ld defences.
The two brothers returned with me to Rouen. I had Father Harold give them some of King Charles’ silver and we discussed how they would defend the land to the north of Rouen. When they left, I was in a better frame of mind. The rebellion had cost me the lives of many warriors and their families. I had felt guilty that I had not watched over them. I would not make the same mistake again.
Leif and Robert were growing into fine young men who would be great warriors. They had some skills. If they were destined to be my bodyguards and, eventually, to be lords then they needed much work. Sven Blue Cheek would have been the perfect warrior to train them but he was in the Otherworld. Egil Flame Bearer would do a good job. Their first training took place in my outer bailey. The rich men of the town who had aspirations for their sons to be lords sent them to Egil. He was paid to train them. They were shown how to fight the Viking way. That meant using a shield as a weapon as well as your sword. It meant learning how to lock your shield with your neighbour and fight as a single line. Using my oathsworn they were shown how to fight in a double line with spears sticking over their shoulders. They even had to face a mock attack from my oathsworn warriors. That was the hardest lesson of all.
Gilles Leifsson then gave them harder lessons in riding and fighting at the same time. He was the best judge of horses and he picked, for them, the gentlest of horses for their first foray into the art of using stiraps and a long spear. Even though he was patient there were many bruises and falls. I was not concerned about the rich young men and I concentrated on Leif and Robert. Both struggled at first. There was much to think about. They had to hold a shield and the reins of their horse. They had to guide their horse with their knees. They had to learn how to use the saddle with the high cantle and their stiraps to enable them to punch with their spears. For the first week or so of the training that was all that was managed. When Gilles was happy that they could sit in a saddle and move the horse forwards and backwards he progressed to showing them how to strike at an object. He devised a swinging piece of wood the same size as a shield and had them ride at it. He had cunningly made it at shoulder height. When they missed it and almost all of them did miss the first few strikes, then the wood smacked them in the shoulder. Once they could hit it more times than they missed he showed them how to punch with the shield.
They thought they were horsemen until we began the lessons in using a sword to strike. This time we used turnips. Some Franks practised with melons. Gilles chose the harder turnip for a skull did not slice open like a melon. It was hard like a turnip and offered resistance. Some fell as their arms jarred against the turnip and the wooden pole. They had to be taught how to time and angle their swing. Their final lesson was with the animal heads. We brought animal heads from the abattoir. This would be a more realistic test. The eyes of the dead animal stared as the riders charged. When they struck there was a little blood and the sensation of slicing through flesh before grating and grinding on bone. It taught them what it would feel like when they rode to war. When they had all achieved it, I wandered amongst them and showed them the damage to their blades.
“When you fight in a battle the keen edge lasts but a few blows and then you are using an iron bar. Each time you charge you kill with your spear. You keep the spear as long as you can.” I laughed, “Unless, like me, you have a long sword. After the sword has dulled it ceases to be an edged weapon. Use it to break skulls and bones. That is why we wear caps beneath our coifs and helmets. The wisest expense you will ever make is to buy a good sword, good mail and the best helmet you can afford.” I pointed to the half dozen rich young men. “You six do not have the advantage of Robert and Leif. I will have my weaponsmith, the best in Normandy, make their weapons. You will not have that benefit. Choose wisely.
By the time the two had had such basic training, we began to plan the raid on Caletum. One of the reasons I had delayed on the raid was the preparation. Leif, my captain and navigator, had gone with one of the knarr captains who traded with Lundenwic and Bruggas. He had sailed along the coast. When he had been in the two ports he had paid for maps. He used King Charles’ silver. I know the King thought I would use it for rich jewels and golden ornaments. That was not my way. When he returned the two of us pored over the charts. I could see that Caletum had not developed into a port. It was a village made up of huts, fishing boats and Olaf Olafsson’s hall. It would involve much work. Mont St. Michel was a monastery built on a rock in the sea. It was formidable. Caletum was a low-lying island in the middle of swamps and shallows. It was equally formidable. There was a way in. The fishing boats which were based on Caletum had a safe channel. Although they were not marked on the map, Erik had been able to see the ships as they returned to the shore. He knew where the channels lay. There was neither jetty nor quay. The fishing boats were just grounded on the beach. That suited us for it would identify the place we would land. The channel we would have to negotiate also dictated our manner of attack. We would have to step the mast and row in. We could not rely on the wind. If we grounded then all would be lost. When we were confident with the plan then Leif sailed to Caen to speak with Sámr and his captain. We would not alert Olaf as to our intentions. Sámr and I would meet at sea. There was a tiny village called Witsant just ten miles south of Caletum. We would have to step the masts before then.
Father Harold knew of my plans. I knew I could trust him. Like Padraig before him, he was a pragmatic man. I did more good than harm. He could, sometimes, be the voice of reason I needed. He did not understand me as Padraig had done but I listened to him for he made sense.
“Lord, when you capture this traitor what will you do with him?”
I looked at him as though he was an imbecile, “I will kill him!”
“Lord, you cannot do that.” I did not argue. I would let him give me his reasons and then tell him he was wrong. “You rule a land which is Christian. There are more of Frankish blood in your land than Norse.” I nodded. He was right. “The rest of Frankia and the Empire look to you and wait for you to be a barbarian. King Charles is your friend but acts such as the maiming of rebels just make you look like a wild animal. You cannot just kill him.”
“Then what should I do with him? Pat him on the hand and say do not do it again?”
“No, lord. You put him on trial. Choose lords to be his jury. Let them hear the evidence and then, when he is found guilty, you decree his punishment.”
“Is that not the same as killing him out of hand?”
“No lord, for you have used the law. You need laws. This land needs fairness. Men will suffer much as long as they know that there is a system in place to protect them from wrongdoing.”
I laughed, “Father Harold, you are a clever and devious man. This is your way of having laws written.”
He smiled, “We can write them and phrase them properly if you come up with the laws you would like in place.” He hesitated, “You cannot use the blood eagle.”
My eyes narrowed, “Why not?”
His eyes and his voice implored me to hear him. “You need justice to be seen to be done. It will encourage men to obey your laws.”
“Believe me, watching a man have his back laid open and his lungs pulled out will deter wrongdoing.”
“It will be public. You want your people to see you as fair.” He pointed to my sword. “You and your son are known as Long Sword. Let that be the instrument of death. Take the head of the offender. If you wish to deter others then the head could be displayed on the gates. That would serve as a better deterrent.”
He had given me ideas but I would not give him the satisfaction of agreeing too quickly. “I will draw up my laws and then tell you what the punishment will be.”
The laws took longer to formulate than I had thought. I finished them just weeks before the raid. I would not be taking my young horsemen with me. This was a raid which needed Vikings. Egil Flame Bearer chose the men. He wanted men who could row and men who knew how to fight. Some were old warriors who now served in m
y garrison. Others were warriors who had chosen to farm. Egil knew them all. He had fought alongside them. I approved of every single one he chose. The other advantage we had was silence. These were not young warriors who would boast, over beer, of the planned raid. Ships came and went every day from my port. Count Arnulf and Olaf would have spies. The word was spread that I would visit my son. His wife was with child again and this would seem an appropriate time to visit. It was deceit but it might confuse a spy.
We left at night. Erik knew my river well. We did not row all the way. We used the current and the wind. We reached the mouth before dawn and we awaited Sámr. Erik had his compass and hourglass out. We would not leave the sight of land but a good navigator kept an accurate record of the sun and his position. The cloud-flecked sky made it harder for him to do so but he was patient. I looked at the skies. They threatened rain. That would not harm us for we had sealskin capes. My eyes were drawn to the west. I would not have many adventures left but one I had wanted was to sail across the Unending Sea. Since I had been to the bottom of the ocean and returned alive, I had felt an affinity with the sea. What lay to the west? Perhaps, when I died, my spirit would go across the seas and see.
Robert and Leif had not been at sea before. Now, as the swell from the west made us rise and fall, I saw them turning a little green. I gave them sage advice. “Fix your eye on some point on the horizon. Many men have emptied their stomachs on their first voyage but it does not endear you to the crew. They have to clean it.”
I saw them nod and stare, as I did, to the west.