by Griff Hosker
I smiled, “What you mean is do I think I will live long enough to hand over power?” He looked shocked. I shrugged, “That is out of my hands. The Norns spin. You must make the south secure. We have made the north a bastion. It was good that you gave Mauger power over the northern lords. He is no Olaf Olafsson and he will give us warning of Flemish attacks. Go home and that will give Father Harold and I the chance to make this hall a home for you and your children.”
He smiled, “And there will be another soon enough.”
“Good, and this one may be a son although your girls are a delight. I shall miss them when you leave.”
“And they you.”
He was right. The day they left all of them sobbed to stay. Mathilde gripped my hand and refused to go. I picked her up, “Mathilde, you are the eldest. You must set an example for your sisters. You will return here and then you shall see me every day. Know that I will miss you.”
She nodded, “Can I ask a boon, grandfather?”
“Of course.”
“Could I have a lock of your hair so that I can curl it in my fingers. It will remind me of you.” She leaned in, “Bergljót, is not a Christian.” Bergljót was an old Norse woman. Her husband, Arne Three Fingers had died in Paris. “She told me that there are women called volvas and they spin hair and cloth together. It keeps their men safe. I would keep the lock of hair safe and then you shall not die.”
I did not think it worked like that but I was happy to accede to her request, “Of course.” I put her down and, taking my seax cut a long curl of grey and brown hair. I handed it to her.
“Thank you, grandfather. Now I am content for I know I shall see you again.”
They left. The Norns were spinning but Mathilde’s words set in motion a series of thoughts. Mathilde seemed to understand me in the same way my grandfather had. Could his spirit be in her? When I died would my spirit return to one of her children? Perhaps the new babe in Sprota’s belly. Then I realised that Mathilde was born many years after my grandfather had died in Wessex. Could it be that I had to die first? I was distracted as I walked around my town.
Everyone had met my grandchildren. I had walked around the town holding the hand of my two eldest granddaughters. The girls had been polite and they had charmed everyone. That was the topic of conversation, certainly from the women as I walked alone. The men, especially those who sailed had more serious news for me.
“The men of Flanders and Frisia grow bolder lord. Your river is safe but some knarr have been taken at the mouth of the river. Captains now sail with other ships for safety.”
Until my son took over that was my responsibility. Time was I would have set sail in ‘Fafnir’ and I would have rid the seas of the pirates. “I will deal with it. Thank you for the information. If there is further trouble do not be so slow to give it to me.”
“I am sorry, lord, but you seemed so happy with the children that we did not wish to bring a black cloud into your life.”
I went to the home of Erik Leifsson. He had a knarr which he used to trade but he was the best drekar captain I knew. He was in port and unloading his knarr. “Leif.”
“Aye, lord.”
“What have you heard of Flemish and Frisian pirates?”
He frowned, “I thought it a rumour. None have bothered me.”
I pointed to the men unloading his knarr. They were all warriors. “With a crew like that it is not a surprise. There are easier targets than the knarr of Duke Robert’s captain. I would like you to take my drekar to sea. I will find the crew. Sail the mouth of the estuary and take any Frisian or Flemish ship you find. We let them know that these waters are Norman!”
“Aye lord.”
Men were more than happy to serve on the drekar. I paid them from the money we had been given by King Charles. I wondered how he was faring. He had not been the best King but he had been someone I could speak with. Had he remained in power then who knows how our lives might have been different? I told Father Harold to authorise the payment for the men. “How are our finances, Father Harold? Soon you will answer to my son and I would like to know, before I hand over power, that all is well.”
“It is, lord. You have not taxed the people too hard and that encourages trade. With no Viking raids, there is an air of optimism. I was speaking with the Archbishop and he says it is not so in the land of the West Franks. Duke Rudolf, who now calls himself King Rudolf, does not live in his own land and he taxes them heavily. There are rumours that he risks revolt.”
There would have been a time when I might have taken advantage of such unrest and attacked them. Perhaps my son would. This would be a perfect time to claim more land on our eastern borders.
“And do we know who are King Rudolf’s allies?”
“The Count of Flanders and the Duke of Lorraine.”
The attacks from the Flemish might be more sinister in nature. Perhaps they were trying to weaken us in the west and then attack from the east. My son had put defences in place which would make that highly unlikely to succeed.
When Erik returned, twelve days later, he was followed by a fleet of five drekar. They had no shields along their sides and I was unconcerned but I was still apprehensive. It took time for them to dock and I went to greet them. Egil and his son, with ten of the garrison, accompanied me.
I did not know the warrior who led them. Hagrold was a Norse Viking. He, however, knew me. Erik explained before I met with them, “Lord, we found Frisian and Flemish ships. They were west of Djupr and heading for Eu. Jarl Hagrold and his ships were engaged in a battle with them. We joined in. It seems the Jarl was on his way here. Wyrd, eh, lord?”
“Wyrd indeed.”
I took the Jarl and his hearth weru to my Great Hall. The eyes of all of them were wide as they entered my home. I would have been the same when I had first come back from the land of ice and snow. They sat at my table and I saw his men rubbing the highly polished surface with their hands. They had ale but it was served in finely carved wooden beakers and not horns.
“I am grateful to you, Jarl Hagrold, for defeating my enemies.”
“It was an honour but they were only Frisians and Flemish pirates. It is an honour to serve the last living legend.”
I nodded, “You mean the Dragonheart?”
“You and he are often spoken of in the same breath.”
“My grandfather knew him. He was a real legend. The sword that was touched by the gods... I should have liked to have held it.”
“You are the reason we are here. We would like to emulate you.”
“But Normandy is now taken. There are fiefs but you strike me as warriors and not farmers.”
“No, Duke, you misunderstand us. We would not take what is yours. We would make, for ourselves, a home like yours but further south. We have heard that the land of Aquitaine is ripe for the taking.”
I was relieved. “Aye it is and my son holds the land north of the river. If you sail south, to Nantes, then he would be able to advise you. You have families?”
“They are in the land of Northumbria. My cousin has land close to Jorvik. Since King Edward and his sons conquered that land it is not a place for Vikings. They will winter there while we sail south and gain a toehold. We hear that your grandfather began with just one island?”
“He did. Raven Wing Island. He used that to raid the mainland and then took the Haugr.”
“He did so with just one drekar?”
“He did.”
“Then we hope to take a larger piece of land. We have six hundred warriors. We brought just five of our ships. Another fifteen are in the mouth of the river.”
“Then I wish you luck. When do you sail?”
“It is a long voyage up your river. We came merely to ask your permission. We will sail now.”
After they had gone, I began to think, once more, about The Norns. They were spinning. My son had said he would be away for half a year. Hagrold and his men doubled the delay. William sent me a letter to tell me that he had
stayed to ensure that our borders were safe and that the raiders did not become greedy and take what was ours. Hagrold was a man of his word and he did not. However, I remained alone at Rouen. I did not see my grandchildren. By the time my son did reach home, he had another daughter!
I had another attack. It was not as bad as the first one. I seemed to be frozen and could not move. I know not how long it lasted but I was alone and I faced up to the fact that I might be dying. I did not die but I decided that if I was to die, alone, in my bed, then I would be prepared. I took one of my old swords from my chest and laid it on the bed. I kept it in its scabbard but, from that night on, I slept with my hand on my sword. If I woke and could not move then at least I would die with a sword in my hand.
Over the next months, I grew accustomed to lying with my right hand on the hilt of the old sword. My servants were a little frightened the first few times they came to wake me and saw the sword but, soon, they forgot about it.
It was in the long nights of Mörsugur that I had another disturbed night’s sleep. Egil and Leif had dined with me. My son had sent a letter apologising for his continued absence. He was about to sail to Wessex and speak with King Edward. To make up for it he had sent a barrel of his best wine and we had enjoyed it. Neither Egil nor Erik now stood a watch at night. A younger warrior, Stephen, who had fought well at the battle of the river, had been promoted to captain of the night guard. After Leif and Egil had left he escorted me to my chamber and ensured that there was a sentry outside the door. I prepared for bed and lay with my hand on my sword. What I did anticipate was a dream. When I had strong wine, and especially after speaking with old comrades, I tended to dream and to dream loudly. The sentries had all commented on the fact that I often shouted in my sleep.
I fell asleep quickly and I dreamed. It was an old and familiar dream. It was the day that my father died. I was on the drekar and I was young. I was not yet the warrior I would be.
I was standing on the gunwale looking out to sea when men came with swords and daggers. I jumped down and ran to the steering board. I noticed two things. Ragnvald was standing there with a bloody knife in his hand and my father’s chest was covered in blood. His throat was bloody. I dropped to my knees and put my head to my father’s mouth. He was not breathing. Ragnvald Hrolfsson was dead. I looked up and saw Ragnvald, my brother, lurching towards me with his bloody blade. As I raised my sword to kill him my life changed forever. I was struck in the back by a blade and a third Danish ship crashed into us. I found myself toppling over the side. The sheer strake was before me and I overbalanced. I was unable to stop myself. I tumbled overboard. My mail dragged me beneath the murky waters. I forced myself not to panic. I gripped my sword and kicked from the muddy bottom. I began to rise. I heard a cry as my head broke the surface.
I sat bolt upright in bed. I had had this dream many times but I had never heard a voice. The hilt of the sword was still in my hand. It was reassuring. I was about to turn over when I felt a change in the air. The door was opening. A sentry would never open the door. He would knock. The cry I had heard had not been in my dream. I slid the scabbard from the sword as I slipped off the bed. I grabbed my seax and I moved silently to the side. The door slowly opened. There should have been light from the torches in the passageway but there was none. I knew that the door was opening for I felt cold air. I stared at the door. I knew where it was. I saw shadows moving. I was in the shadows at the side of the room. Despite my size, I was invisible. These were killers come to end my life and the shadows moved towards the bed. I could not tell how many men there were. I could have, perhaps, slipped out of the door and raised the alarm. That was not in my nature. Besides I knew not what mischief they had been up to. There were other guards and if they had all been slain then my best chance to survive was to surprise my would-be killers. I was a warrior, albeit an old one. I had to remember that I was not wielding Long Sword and I moved, silently, towards the men who were closing with my bed. I could now make out the men. There were five of them and they looked to have swords in their hands. When I was younger five would not have been a problem. I was old and I was ill. Would this be my last battle?
As soon as I saw their blades begin to descend, I struck. I brought my sword into the back of one killer while I stepped forward and ripped the seax into the side of another. The one whose spine I had struck screamed like a pig being castrated. The other three turned and, as they did so they whipped their weapons at the huge dark shadow that was me. I heard shouts from down the corridor. Help was on its way. The question was, would they be in time? I flicked my seax up at the sword which almost struck my middle and brought my sword down at the neck of the nearest would be killer. A sword was blindly thrust towards my middle. I tried to twist away but I could not avoid it. The blade sliced down my side. I saw, as I turned to face the last two killers, lights in the corridor and I heard feet pounding towards us. The light from the door illuminated me and the two remaining killers. They were both armed with swords and, even as I turned to face them, they both drew a dagger and advanced purposefully towards me. They were willing to die so long as they took me with them.
The door was flung open and Leif and Egil led my men into the room. The killers were brave men and they still tried to accomplish their mission. They ran at me. I was bleeding and I was old. Young Rollo would have thrown caution to the wind and charged them. Older, wiser Rollo, bleeding from his side, stepped back. I blocked one sword blow with my sword and the second with my seax. Two daggers drove towards my chest. They did not make it. Two blades emerged from their chests and they were thrown to the side. Men with torches ran in and the room became as bright as day. It was like a charnel house. The man I had stabbed in the side had bled to death. There was a puddle of blood as big as the man. The one I had almost severed was sprawled on my bed. I would need it cleaned well before I was able to sleep in it again.
Father Harold appeared in the doorway. He made the sign of the cross and then shouted, “Our lord is hurt! Fetch honey and vinegar.”
One of the men who had been stabbed in the back tried to rise. Leif and his father, Egil Flame bearer, along with the two sentries they had brought began to hack and chop at the man. It was almost a berserker frenzy.
“Hold! He is dead! How is Stephen?”
Leif shook his head, “Stephen is dead as are two of the men at the river gates! You were lucky lord and we were less than vigilant.”
I began to feel dizzy. Was I having another attack? Even though the bed was bloody, I had to sit upon it, “There will be time to learn lessons later. First, while my wound is tended, search for others. If five could enter then why not twenty?”
The drink must have still been affecting them. Realisation dawned, “Quick, my son. Organize the search. I will guard the Duke!”
Father Thomas arrived with the honey, bandages and vinegar. Father Harold said, “Lift your arms, lord, we will take this bloody shift from you. Father Thomas find a clean one from the chest.” I saw him taking in the bodies and the blood. “You will have to sleep in the guest quarters until we can cleanse your room, lord.”
I nodded, “I can always sleep in the warrior hall. There I would be safe.”
Egil said, “Not so, lord, one of the new guards, Einar, is missing. I never like him. He had strange features. We will have to question all of them and find out if this treachery runs deep.”
Once my shift was taken from me the wound could be examined. The assassins had used very sharp swords and the wound was deep. Luckily it had missed my ribs. The priest stitched it and then I was dressed. “Egil, your arm. Let us go down to the Great Hall. I will feel safer in a larger room.”
It was dawn by the time Leif had completed his search. Another guard was found dead. His name was Ulf and he had been on watch with the missing Einar. They had been at the town gate. The killers had entered there. I knew not how or why the river gate guards had been killed.
“So, what do we know?”
“The five dead men
all had Flemish coins. One of my men noticed them in the alehouse by the river. He thought they were crewmen from the Frisian ship which docked last night.”
I looked at Richard, who gave the report, “And is the ship still in port?” Richard’s face told me that he had not even thought about it. He ran off. “And how many men can we trust? I would have thought all of them but perhaps I was wrong.”
“You are definitely wrong. I will rephrase the question. Egil who can we trust?”
He looked at his son, “The men I appointed.”
I saw the disappointment in the face of Leif. His son nodded, “I will examine the heart of all of the men I chose.”
Richard ran in, “The ship has left port. They are gone.”
I shook my head, “They are not! There are loops in the river. Leif, take mounted men. You can catch them. It will take half a day to reach the sea. Ride as fast as you can and stop them. Bring them back alive if you can but do not let them reach the sea.”
Leif nodded, “I will take my new men. That will be as good a test of their loyalty as any.”
He left. “That is brave, not to say foolhardy, Egil.”
“My son has made a mistake but I cannot believe he has misjudged the other twelve men he chose.”
“Perhaps you are right.”
“Lord, why do you not want them to reach the sea?”
“This is the work of Arnulf. I want him to wonder if his plan succeeded. No one must know of this.”
“Lord, there are too many bodies to hide.”
“Dismember the killers and throw their parts in the river. We spread the story that our guards got drunk and there was a fight. Have Father Harold make the servants swear to remain silent.” I shook my head, “Had I not slept with my sword in my hand… perhaps this ailment was sent to save me and not to kill me.” I finished the wine, “I need William here! I am too old for this. I was slow. Time was four would have been dead in the time it took to slay two.”
“If you are old then what does that make us? No, Duke, you are still, Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson. From now on we use chamberlains to sleep behind your door.”