The Duke and the King

by Griff Hosker

“Drekar to the south!”

  The crew were all experienced and did not become alarmed. Sámr’s ship hove into view and I said, “Leif, lower the sail, let us be about our business.”

  We could have left from Djupr. That would have been a short journey of no more than a few hours. However, Mauger had not commanded the port for long enough to be sure of all those who lived within its walls. A rider could reach Olaf before we would. I did not want the slippery snake to be alarmed. We kept the coast a smudge to the east. A sharp-eyed watcher might notice two ships sailing north but they would not be able to identify them. Erik checked the sun each hour and made adjustments. These were familiar waters. When he had sailed in the knarr to scout out the route he had identified features. To us, it was a smudge but he and his ship’s boys knew exactly where we were.

  “Lord, we have made better time than I expected. We will soon be close to Witsant. We do not wish to be seen.”

  “Then shorten sail.” As his boys shortened sail I shouted, “We eat and then prepare for war.”

  Sámr reacted to our movement and he shortened his sail too. As the afternoon wore on and the sun began to set, we headed towards the coast. I was not a bad navigator but I was not in the same class as Leif. The ship’s boy shouted, “Breakers to steer board!”

  “Down sail! Prepare to step the mast. Rowers, take your oars.”

  I turned to my two boys, Robert and Leif, “Come, stepping a mast needs as many hands as possible. We have been passengers long enough.”

  In the time it took to take down the sail the rowers had their oars placed by their chests and then the whole crew lowered the mast and yard. They were laid on the mast fish. As they took their oars, I began a chant. It would not be sung for long but it would get us into the rhythm. I was not sure how many more voyages I would enjoy and so I chose a saga about me.

  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

  By the time we had finished, we were clear of the shore and heading north. We had a light hung from the stern and I saw Sámr just three lengths behind us. We now had just a few miles to row and then we would wreak our revenge on those who had rebelled. We would kill those who had betrayed us and killed their brothers.

  I left my captain to steer the drekar and I went to the prow. The wind had swung since we had stepped the mast. Before it had been from the south and east and now it was from the east. It would continue its turn until it was a northeasterly. It brought the smells of the land. We were just half a mile from the shore and a mixture of animal and human dung mixed with wood smoke drifted on the breeze. I stood at the prow and patted the dragonhead. ‘Fafnir’ might be a dwarf but she had never let us down. I peered ahead. One of the ship’s boys moved to the larboard side. Erik was steering us towards the north. We would approach Caletum from the west. In the distance, I saw a flicker of light. Experience told me what that was. I said, to Folki, the ship’s boy, “Do you know what that light is, Folki?”

  “An aelfe, lord?”

  I laughed, “No, Folki, it is a hut. Someone came out of the door and then closed it. We are close. Tell the captain that the village is just ahead. He should head a few points to the west.”

  “Aye lord.”

  The boy would remember this conversation when I was long dead and he was a man. It would be a comfort to me in the Otherworld knowing that I was still in men’s thoughts. I waited until the houses began to take shape as darker shadows and Erik took us further west. Folki returned and I nodded to him as I went for my sword. I would not need my helmet nor shield. If Olaf and his men wore mail I would be surprised. I would try to take as many of the rebels back as prisoners. I wanted to make a demonstration of them for the rest of my land but I would not risk my men. Olaf, I would take myself.

  As I walked down the centre of the drekar I saw that my men were mailed and ready. They were still rowing but it was not a hard pull. The wind was actually helping us now as it pushed us in the direction we wished to sail. Erik used the wind to push us a good half a mile from the western side of the settlement. Men could escape across the marshes and mudflats but it would be a risk. I had men ready with bows to chase them if they chose that route. They would not be able to move quickly.

  Erik said, “Prepare to come about.” It was a warning for the ship’s boys perched precariously on the yard and the sides as well as for the rowers. They would have to work against the wind. The wind would take our words and the noise of the oars west. Sámr turned his drekar as we did. We would both reach land together. Sixty men would swarm ashore. The younger men would race through the village to cut off any escape. Most of those in this fishing village were either fishermen or they were refugees from Normandy. Both would dread a Viking raid. Time was I would have been the first ashore. With my long legs, I could often leap three paces or so from the side. Now I was an old man and I would let younger and fitter men land first. With my sword now at my waist, I made my way back to the prow and pulled myself up by the forestay. The crew still rowed.

  We were thirty paces from the beach when we were seen. I saw a woman, she had been outside making water and, as she turned, she saw us. Her cry, “Vikings!” would have an instantaneous effect. Men would rise and grab their weapons. Women would seek their children and, no doubt, what little treasure they had. They would get as far away from the Vikings as they could. It would be in vain. I had planned for flight.

  “In oars!” The two commands came almost at the same time.

  I saw the fishing boats on the beach. If they sought to use them to escape they would not be able to. Sámr’s drekar actually crushed one of them as he misjudged the landing. Erik slid us gently on to the sand and shingle beach. My men poured over the side and splashed in the water. I jumped and landed on sand. The tide was on the way out and I sank up to my ankles in the waterlogged sand. With my mail on I was heavy. I drew Long Sword and strode after my men. I shouted, “Olaf Olafsson, draw your weapon for I come for you!”

  I wanted all to know who came for them. If they had honour, they would fight me and try to kill me. Erik Egilsson and Robert son of Henry were right behind me. They had their shields and swords. This would be their first opportunity to put to the test the skills taught by Egil. Ahead of me, the slaughter had begun. I heard the clash of steel on steel and the cries of men dying. The screams and panicked shouts of the women and the children filled the air. There was increasing light as doors were opened and the darkene
d village was lit by the light of fires burning within. People fled clutching their treasures. I saw two dead warriors as I moved towards the distant hall. Both had been men who had deserted me. They had died too quickly!

  I heard a shout from ahead, “Shield wall!”

  They were preparing to defend against us. What I did not know was exactly how many men were with Olaf. Eight lords had deserted me and they had taken some oathsworn with them. I had no doubt that there would also be Flemish warriors. I was more than confident about the outcome but a shield wall would mean there was less likelihood of prisoners. When you were fighting with someone armed in a similar way then you could take no chances.

  I heard Sámr’s voice, “Form line! The Duke comes!” His words told me that escape across the marshes and salt flats was now impossible.

  I said, without turning around, “You two just watch my back. These men are dangerous.” I raised my sword above my head so that all could see it, especially Olaf and the men behind his hurriedly formed shield wall.

  As I neared the hall, I saw that men had already fallen. Olaf had forty men in two lines before his hall. They had shields and helmets but I only saw two with mail. Some were Frisians and there were at least two Flemish warriors. The rest were men who had fought alongside me.

  Sámr and my men had left a gap for me in the middle.

  I pointed the sword at Olaf who was in the centre of his line, “Punishment and retribution are now coming, Olaf Olafsson, your father will be in Valhalla and his head will be hung. He will be wishing that he had strangled the babe that was born rather than he becomes a traitor.”

  “These are just words, old man! I am a Christian and my father died a pagan. He will be in hell and soon I shall send you there to join him.” The words were bravado. I saw the piss puddling at his feet. He was scared. I had promised the blood eagle. His words were to make his men fight for him.

  I held my sword over my right shoulder, “Enough words! Now is the time for blood! Now is the time for death!” Without waiting for my shield wall, I stepped forward. I swung my sword. There were none next to me for I had taken them by surprise. It allowed me a better swing. We had been ten paces apart. In the time it took me to take four of my strides I was swinging my sword at the shield wall. The edge hit Sven Green Eye even as his spear hit my chest. There was power behind my blow for my sword severed his neck. As he fell, he knocked into Olaf and his spear just touched my mail. The fall saved Olaf for Long Sword missed his chest by a handspan.

  Then my men hit them. My sudden attack had disrupted the rebel line. I back swung my sword and it smashed through Olaf’s spear halfway down. He had an open face helmet and I saw fear in his eyes. His spear had been as long as my sword. Now he would have to face my sword. His was a dagger in comparison. With my sword raised again, I brought it down towards his head. I turned the blade in the air so that it was flat. I hit his helmet square on. I had told Robert and Erik that a dull sword was like an iron bar. That was what I used. I struck the helmet to the side of the reinforced strip. The metal dented and still, my sword descended. It drove the helmet down and covered his eyes. The blow was not finished and it bent the helmet even more. When his legs buckled and he fell then I knew I had won. He had lost consciousness. I whipped my sword sideways and it bit into the neck of the warrior, Ulf, who was fighting Sámr. Ulf had been a good warrior. Had he been deceived by Olaf or had I misjudged him? Olaf’s collapse marked the collapse of their resistance. The men who had deserted me refused to surrender. They knew they would die. The old religion was stronger than the Christian one. Many had mortal wounds but fought on and retained their swords. My men could not afford to show mercy. They hacked, chopped, slashed and stabbed until the last of the rebels lay in a heap of mangled and bloody body parts. They had died with honour. Their oathsworn stood behind them. This was not over yet.

  Shouting, “Robert and Leif, hold the prisoner!” I waded into the huddle of men who formed a circle singing their death song. I had meant to take prisoners but when Fámr son of Siggi, one of my bravest men, died I swung my sword in a long sweep. It was the mightiest blow I had ever struck. The three men I hit wore just helmets without coifs. All three heads flew from their bodies. With them ended all resistance. Lord Henry, my murdered men and their families were avenged.

  Chapter 10

  We did not leave until the next day. We raised the mast and yards and then loaded the drekar with the treasure the traitors had taken. At low tide, we sent the women and children across the causeway to the mainland. We put the bodies of the dead inside Olaf’s hall and then we destroyed the fishing boats, the hall and the huts with fire. King Charles might be unhappy but I would live with his displeasure. Olaf’s son had died in the fighting but I allowed his wife to live. She went with the women and children back to Flanders. We left on the afternoon tide and black smoke followed us as the Flemish huts burned. The Count of Flanders would rebuild. The site was too good to abandon. Next time he would keep it for himself.

  Olaf was aboard my ship. He had been tightly bound and guarded by Robert. He had not been gentle with the wounded traitor. Olaf had been responsible for the death of his family. As we sailed south the blood still trickled from Olaf’s head and none made any effort to tend to the wound. I stood and looked down at him. “You are a lucky man, Olaf Olafsson.”

  He laughed, “Me? Lucky? You have a warped sense of humour, Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson.”

  “I promised you the blood eagle but I was persuaded to give you a trial.”

  “A trial?” I saw the confusion on his face. He thought me a cruel man and he was trying to work out my cruelty.

  “They say I should show that I am civilised. Apparently, in the civilised world, you try a man before his equals. In the world of the Frank, you have the opportunity to defend yourself. That was denied many of your victims but if I am to be seen as a civilised man then you must be tried. That will be your fate. You can defend yourself but the judgment of your innocence or guilt will be down to those who hear your words.”

  “And who will they be?”

  “The same lords with whom you sat in the council of war. The lords of Normandy will pass judgement.”

  He hung his head, “Then I am a dead man!”

  “True, but your death will be a civilised one and you can confess to a priest. The world will see that the Duke of Normandy is now civilised.”

  His eyes flashed angrily at me, “You are nothing more than a count!”

  I shrugged, “I rule a Dukedom and my loyal men call me Duke. What a traitor calls me does not matter to me!”

  The squall which descended upon us halfway home seemed to be a judgement from the Allfather. It did not discomfort us much but Olaf Olafsson, with hands and feet bound, was rolled around my deck. Robert watched him to make sure that he did not slip overboard. He had to be returned to Rouen. His condition was immaterial. He looked as though he had been in a battle with ten men. His nose was broken and he lost teeth. I had no doubt that Father Harold would blame me but I was innocent. This was divine punishment.

  When Sámr left us at the estuary mouth we began the tortuous journey upstream to Rouen. It was raining and the wind and tide were against us, but I viewed the two banks of the river as though for the first time. I knew that this might well be the last time I sailed home in a drekar and I could not help but remember the times we had raided here from the Haugr when this had been Frankia. I could hear the ghosts of the past speaking to me. I had fought many battles along this river. I had sacked churches where now I built them. I had taken slaves where now I received homage. The Norns had spun a seriously complicated web and I was at the heart of it. My grandfather’s visit with the Dragonheart to the cave on Syllingar had set in motion events which could not be stopped. The rebellion had been a test. It was a test of me and my men. I had to change the way I ruled. My land was now more than the island my grandfather had first ruled. It was more than the Cotentin. It was Normandy and now Brittany. I knew now that
my land was stronger and that there would be no further revolts. Our strongholds were better defended with ditches and palisades. Our warriors were better. We had more horsemen and better-armed warriors. If I went to the Otherworld before I reached Rouen it would not change what was. William had a child and another was on the way. When we held the trial, I would use it as an opportunity to let my lords know my wishes. The trial was also necessary. It would be a marker for the rest of the rulers in this part of the world that the Normans knew how to rule.

  Father Harold frowned when he saw the bloody, bound prisoner. I did not bother to explain. “Have him locked in a cell. You may tend to his wounds if you wish. It is no matter. They are not life-threatening. It will take a week to gather my lords. Until then he gets small beer and bread. Anything more would be a waste. If he wishes to confess then you may arrange it. Egil, see to his guards. I want good men. One is in the cell with him at all times. His hands will remain bound even when he eats.”

  “Aye lord. he will be there for the trial.”

  I sent a rider to my son as well as to my lords. It was not important to have Gandálfr there or even Bergil but it was vital that my son attend the gathering. The lords who lived close arrived first. Mauger and Sámr took three days to reach me. My son took six. The night before the trial I held a feast. I had spoken with William before we ate so that he knew what I had planned. The last such meeting had been attended by Olaf Olafsson. I had him brought to be paraded before the lords prior to the meal. My three priest clerks were also in attendance. I had told them that they would scribe what was said and make copies for each of my lords. “Tomorrow, Olaf Olafsson, these lords will determine your fate. I will have no say in the matter. Whatever they say will be the judgement.”

  I saw him looking at the hardened faces. He had fought alongside many of them. He had thought to deceive them. He had sought to rule them. As he looked into their faces, he saw that they would find him guilty. What he did not know was the punishment. How would I kill him? Olaf was broken. He shambled off led by Robert and Leif. They would be his gaolers while we feasted.