Viking Slave Read online

  Viking Slave

  Book 1 in the

  Dragon Heart Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2013

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  Smashwords Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Cover by Design for Writers

  Chapter 1

  It was a misty and damp spring morning when the Vikings came. I was with the other boys by the river, hauling in the nets filled with the salmon caught overnight. It was hard to see anything with the low mist which we called a sea fret hanging over the river. The cold chilled you to your very bones. I had taken off my hare fur boots before I entered the water as I did not want them to be wet and soggy all day. It was better to have cold feet. I waded to the furthest point from the shore.

  The other children did not like me. The boys called me Crow. The name was meant as an insult for I was the only dark haired boy in the whole village. It marked me out as different and that was a bad thing. I was also thin and frail. I think I inherited those qualities from my mother. I looked a lot like her. She had been taken in a slave raid by my father who had been a warrior of some renown.

  She had lived on the west coast and, it was said, that she was of the old people of Britain. My father treated her well and she was better off than most of the slaves but I did not fare well. My father also resented my dark hair and, as he called it, my weedy appearance. All the other boys looked like true Saxons with their broad chests and blond hair. I was the freak that they could all gang up on. Of course, I learned to run really quickly to avoid their beatings. Tadgh, Saelac and Rald were my worst tormentors.

  That morning, as we worked in the water, before the Vikings came, I was safe. Work time was not the time for bullying. It was not the time to hold my head under the water until I nearly drowned or to burn my feet with a brand from the fire. Work was my safe time and I volunteered for work as often as possible.

  I say the Vikings came but we did not call them Vikings then. We just called them the men from the north or wolves from the sea. That was what they appeared like. They just arrived without any warning. They were something new. Their ships sailed from somewhere over the edge of the world in the east and they came silently. We had heard of raids further north but, until that cold, spring day they had never ventured to our river. It was called The River because no river was as big and it was ours in that we ruled the small part on the northern shore where we could trap salmon and steal heron’s eggs. We might have been a handful of families but we had a palisade and ditch around our homes and we feared no one.

  And so on that cold morning the eight boys from the village trudged down to the river. I took with me, as I always did, an offering for Icaunus, the river god. That was another reason for my misery at the hands of the others. My mother and I followed the old ways and the old religion but the rest of the village followed the White Christ. I did as my mother did and, before I stepped into the water, I said a prayer and dropped the piece of wood I had carved the night before. I intoned the words quietly so that the others would not hear; if they did it would result in a beating later on. “I come as a supplicant, Great Icaunus. I exchange this gift for your bounty.” I dropped the wood into the icy dark waters and then waded out into the icy current.

  I was up to my chest in the water, holding on to the net when I first saw the dragon boat. All that I saw was the red painted dragon prow of the ship heading silently for the bank. It came from nowhere as though some wizard had summoned it. Even had I wanted to I could not have evaded capture. I was too far into the river. Aelle, who was closest to the bank tried to run and to shout a warning but an axe flew through the air and split his skull in two. I had seen that happen before but only to the pigs and sheep when we slaughtered them. The raiders leapt from the boat and while two of them secured it to a tree four warriors began to grab and bind the other six boys. I was the furthest out and I began to wade in. I could not swim. As I struggled against the water I reflected that my offering had not been enough and the village was being punished because they worshipped the White Christ and not Icaunus. . A toothless old man waited for me. He smelled of sweat and pig grease. He turned me around and bound my hands behind me. He was accomplished and skilled and I was tied to the other boys in a heartbeat.

  The warriors began to leap on to the river bank. The mist still lay like a blanket over the bank and they quickly made their way to the village. Our chief, Rald, was proud of the fact that the village was on a high piece of land, well away from the unpredictable water. It was at least four hundred man paces from the water and I watched as the fierce warriors trotted off. Most had a helmet and two had long coats of mail but all had a sword or an axe and a round shield. My heart sank. Most of the men in the village were naked in comparison. There were just two helmets in the village and only three swords. The old toothless one began to lift us one by one into the boat. I was the last one to be hauled unceremoniously on board and I watched as the others were lifted up. Raldson, the son of the chief began to struggle as they lifted him. He was the eldest of the boys and had seen eleven summers, he was almost a man. The old man took out an axe handle and stuck him so hard on the back of the head that blood poured from the wound and he fell unconscious onto the deck. No one else fought. When my turn came I obeyed meekly. I was no Raldson.

  The six of us stood on the thwarts of the ship and found that we could see to the village. None of us had the courage to voice a warning and I fear we would have been silenced like Raldson had we shouted. We could only watch as the warriors entered the open gates of the settlement unhindered. The guards both lay dead. We had not seen them killed but I knew the two men; they had probably been asleep. We heard the screams and the clamour of metal on metal. Our men were putting up a fight but I had seen the warriors, the fourteen men of the village would not be able to do much against the thirty hardened pirates who carved a path of death through my home. When the noise stopped we saw the first of the captives being led down towards the boat. The mist was beginning to be burned off and we were able to watch them as they trudged down the well worn path to the river. It was the women and the children who were driven down to their ship. There were no men. I saw my mother walking in the middle of the first group. I would not be alone.

  The warrior who led them wore a helmet which had a face mask. He looked terrifying. You could see nothing, not even his eyes and it made him seem inhuman. He wore a fine mail shirt and carried a shield with a dragon’s head painted upon it. He carried a long sword. There was blood on the blade. His men formed two lines on either side of the captives and, at the rear, four of his men drove the few animals we possessed: a handful of sheep and goats, two pigs and a milk cow. The sow was heavy with young.

  Suddenly we were yanked from behind and we were pulled away from the side. The old man said something. Parts of it sounded familiar but none of us understood a word. We were pushed and dragged towards the dragon’s head prow of the ship and I noticed there was a piece of cloth rigged to cover it. Raldson was slumped there, his head still bleeding. None of the others paid him any attention. All of us were looking for our mothers and sisters as they were pushed towards us
. My mother was not popular with the other women and they rushed to their own children, pushing mother out of the way. I was used to being patient and I waited.

  She threw her arms around me; there were no tears and there was no fuss. She had been taken as a slave once before and she had survived. She would survive this. “You are safe?”

  “I am safe.” I looked up. “Father?”

  “He was the last to die and he died well. You are now the man, Gareth.” A further reason they all despised me was my name. It was not a Saxon name and a further reminder that I was not one of them; I was one of the old tribes.

  How they managed to haul the cow on board I shall never know but we had turned east and headed back to the sea almost before we knew. I looked to the small settlement on the slight rise and wondered what would become of the deserted village filled with the dead. The village was now packed into the prow of the boat and heading towards the land of the raiders. The only memory of the old place would be in our hearts and heads. I would not miss it for I had never been happy there.

  When we reached the sea I expected them to continue east but they turned south. South of the river was a different land with people we did not know. My mother held me tighter. I did not want the other boys to hear me and so I whispered, “Why are we going south mother?”

  “I know not.” I felt her fingers squeeze into my scrawny back. “They may be going to sell us to others I do not know.” She looked down at me and, for the first time, I saw fear in her eyes. “If we are separated then do all that your new masters ask. It will make life easier. There is no point in fighting it only results in beatings or worse.”

  I nodded and lowered my head into the comfort of her body. “You were taken once.”

  “Aye, and my father was killed. I found a life with your father who was a kind master and I was given the gift of you my son. We never know what wyrd has in store for us.” She surreptitiously slid the necklace she wore from around her neck and gave it to me. “Hide this and keep this. It has protected me and it will protect you.” I knew what it was without even looking. It was a piece of stone carved into a wolf’s head and in the eye was a tiny piece of blue glass. Mother said it was a precious stone from the lands far to the west. I was about to refuse when she tightened her hand about mine. “Take it! My mother gave it to me and I pass it on to you. We have had this in our family for generations. So long as it survives then the family will also survive.”

  The raiders had left just two young men with spears to watch us. They looked as though they would happily spear any of us who moved. The rest of the crew rowed steadily along the coast. The leader had removed his helmet and was standing at the stern holding on to the tiller. I could see his face now. His hair was a frightening white blond. His beard showed that he was not an old man. He had a scar running down right hand side of his face and crossed his eye. It gave him an angry look. Later we found that his name was Harald One Eye and that this was his first expedition as a leader. Perhaps that was why he had not returned to his home across the sea.

  I wondered how far we would travel when suddenly the ship began to turn. We had just passed an estuary and there was a cliff with buildings at the top. The dragon boat ground up onto the sand at the foot of the rocks. The leader shouted orders and the warriors leapt from their oars and followed him up the cliff. I could hear a bell tolling. There were four men left to guard us. I heeded my mother’s words but Scald, one of the boys who followed Raldson, suddenly tried to leap overboard. It was almost impossible as his hands were still tied; I suspect he thought he was close to shore and might be able to survive the surf. I do not know if the guards had been expecting something but as he stood on the ship’s side he was speared through the back. His lifeless body dropped into the foaming sea. Scald’s mother began to wail and the toothless old man walked up to her and punched her in the side of the head. She whimpered instead. The old man then examined Raldson who had not moved since he had been deposited. He lifted an arm and dropped it. Raldson was dead. They threw his body over the side too.

  The splashes of the two bodies in the water seemed ominous. I knew that we would be slaves and that we had value but I now knew that we were disposable and my mother’s words rang loudly in my ears. I would do all that I could to survive. The truth was that my life in the village had not been the best. I was lonely and I was beaten. As I peered around at the boys I saw that none of them were my friend nor would I wish them to be. The life in this new land could be no worse than the old life in the Saxon village.

  The boat seemed to be on the beach longer than I would have expected. The men they left as guards had to push her into the water once to avoid her being stranded on the tide. Eventually we saw a straggly line descending from the building at the top. “What is that building?” I whispered.

  “It is an abbey and a church of the White Christ.”

  I had heard of these churches and abbeys. When tales were told around the fire they spoke of great riches and gold within. I could see that the raiders were heavily laden as they descended. This time, however, there were just two slaves. They were young women. Both looked tearful and afraid. They were being carried by two of the bigger warriors. I had not counted the raiders as they had left the ship but I did not think that they were fewer in number. However as they began to board the ship I saw some small boats put out from the estuary we had just passed and other armed men running down the cliff path. I began to wonder if we would be rescued.

  The warrior who led the raiders barked out his orders. The two women were dumped with the other prisoners and the warriors took to their oars. These were strong men and they began to pull away from the shore. I was right at the prow of the ship and I peered over the wooden edge. The ships which were coming out to meet us were small boats, mainly fishing skiffs. It looked like the warriors from Streonshal were trying to rescue the two prisoners. They began to close with us and I was surprised that the crew did not seem more worried. Three of them leisurely strode forwards and stood just behind us. They each had a bow and they began to loose arrows at the nearest boat. It only took them six or seven arrows to make a hit. The boat slowed and I heard one of the men say something to a companion who laughed. They kept loosing at the first boat and had two more hits. The crews stopped following. We were now picking up speed as we headed eastwards. The archers walked along the centre walkway and positioned themselves at the side where they kept up a flurry of arrows until the boats gave up their pursuit.

  It was then that we learned of the leader’s name for, as they rowed, the men all chanted, “Harald, Harald!”

  It was almost noon; we could work that out from the position of the sun and we were all now, effectively slaves. There would be no pursuit and these raiders would take us to their home. When the coastline was no longer in sight the leader took off his helmet and strode towards us with another, older man. The older man had many scars on his arms and he had necklaces and bracelets on his neck and arms. Even I knew they marked him as a great warrior. Rald had had but two and I saw that Harald wore both of them now; he had killed our leader

  The older man spoke Saxon, “You are now the thralls of Harald One Eye and we are going to his home, Ulfberg. There you will be given to warriors who have pleased the chief. Some of you will become his slaves. The two boys who died were brave but you are now his property and he wants no more bravery. Any further attempts to escape will result in blinding.”

  He turned to leave and one of the two females taken from the abbey suddenly shouted. “I am Aethelfrith, the daughter of King Aethelred of Northumbria. I demand you take me to my father’s castle!”

  The older warrior smiled as he translated for Harald who burst out laughing. “Jarl Harald cares not what Saxon princesses want. If your father wishes to buy you then he will set a fair price.”

  They returned to the stern and we all looked with new interest at the two women who had survived from the abbey. We knew that we had a king but none had ever seen him. The only cont
act we had was when the fyrd was called to war and the men went off. We had had years of peace and I had never heard of the king summoning his farmers to fight. Looking at these raiders it was a good thing for I could not see them standing for long against such muscular and well armed men.

  As we hit the open water the motion of the boat became more severe and, added to the smell from the animals, some of the villagers began to empty the contents of their stomachs over the side. I stared ahead, watching for the new land where I would soon live. I could hear them vomiting behind me but I just peered towards the horizon. When it became dark I became hungry and thirsty. I turned to mother. “Will we be fed do you think?”

  She smiled, “Probably, my little man. They do not want us dying but I think it is just you and I who will be eating.”

  Eventually the older man who had spoken to us came down accompanied by the toothless warrior. They had some bread and some water. “I am Butar Ragnarson. This old one is Olaf the Toothless. Would anyone like some food and water?”

  Mother was the only one of the women who had not been sea sick. “My son and I will eat and drink.” She flashed a look of superiority at the other pale women who would normally have claimed any food going first. They only wanted the water. Olaf gave us a loaf to share and poured some water into two wooden beakers.

  Butar stayed with us while Olaf saw to the other women and gave them water. “You two look different from the rest.”

  “I am from Cymri. I was taken as a slave by the Saxons.”

  “And now you and your son have been taken again. You seem calm about this.”

  “It is the first time that is hard. I survived then and I will survive now. I do not know if you are to be good or bad masters. That may change my opinion but for now my son and I eat, we drink and you have not beaten us.”