The Land of the Northmen Read online

  The Land of the Northmen

  Book 5 in the

  Norman Genesis Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2016

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First 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

  Thanks to Simon Walpole for the Artwork.

  Dedication

  To my first two grandsons, Thomas Hosker and Samuel Hosker. Have good lives; have long lives. Always remember that your family will be there for you. You are both the future.

  PART ONE

  The Skeleton in the Sea

  Prologue

  It had been six summers since we had defeated the Franks and come to an arrangement with them. We had lived in peace with them and we had prospered. I had chosen peace for we were few in number and clung on to a rocky corner of Frankia like a drowning man to a piece of wreckage. We had not forgotten our past and we raided other places in our drekar, ‘Dragon’s Breath’ . We raided Wessex and the land of the Frisians and Jutes. We had also raided Vasconia and Aquitaine. We raided once a year. We chose the time when the harvests were in and we could augment our supplies. We took from those who already had plenty. They were sheep and we were the wolves. It was in the nature of things. The land in which we lived, however, was fertile. We were clearing more land each year. Soon we would produce most of what we needed. We occasionally had a surplus and we traded that with others.

  The last six years had seen many changes in our world. Dyflin had fallen. Jarl Gunnstein Berserk Killer had been slain by Vikings from Norway and they, in turn, had been defeated by the Dragonheart. In all that time, we had had no meetings with either the Dragonheart or the clan of the wolf. There was no bad feeling between us. It was just that our worlds had drifted apart. They lived far away and lived a different life to ours. King Egbert, the High King, waged war against Dragonheart and his people. If Dragonheart had asked us then we would have fought alongside him but he did not. Our raids against Wessex were my way of supporting the jarl who had set me free and shown me that I could become a leader.

  My wife, the daughter of a Frankish noble, had given me one son and three daughters. I did not mind the daughters for Ragnvald was everything you would want in a son and would be a great warrior and leader. He rode everywhere at my side and this year he would, soon, go with me on our first raid. He was excited for he had been desperate to join me since he could walk.

  We now had more people living under my protection. Other Northmen had followed me. We were called Northmen by the Franks with whom we shared the land. Not all came from Norway. Some came from the islands or Man. Some had lived in the Land of the Wolf of Dyflin. We were Norsemen. Others had also chosen to live with us. Warriors like Bertrand and Alain of Auxerre and noblewomen such as Matildhe of Ċiriċeburh, all chose to live under the protection of my warriors.

  There had been other Northmen who had tried to do as I had. Fótr had led one such band. Only his brother, Folki Kikisson and a handful of his warriors had survived his attempt to set up his own land and they now served me. Other drekar came but I dissuaded them from raiding the Franks of the Issicauna. So far, they had heeded my warnings and left for other rivers. I knew that one day a ship would come and they would dispute my right to order them. When that day came, we would have to fight our own people and I did not relish that.

  One thing was certain, we were the Clan of the Horse and we would not be shifted from this land which we had won at great cost.

  The Caliphate of Cordoba

  Chapter 1

  Einmánuður

  We had taken an old hill fort when we had first arrived. Each year we had improved the defences which the Allfather had given us. The work on the new tower was almost complete. Where once we had had wooden walls and wooden towers, we had replaced the walls with stone and begun a circular tower which would be a last refuge. Along with the stone gatehouse they marked our stronghold as the most powerful for many miles around. My wife’s priest, Father Michael, was a clever and learned man. I think he was more interested in building things than in saving souls. The Franks among my people were all Christian but the warriors who had first come with me were not. Father Michael soon gave up trying to convert me and my men. I learned that he liked machines. It was he who devised the treadmill crane which enabled us to lift huge blocks which our stonemason had cut. Often he would be stripped to the waist and would labour along with my warriors. They liked him despite the fact that he followed the White Christ.

  He called me over. “Come Jarl Hrolf. Ascend the ladder and see what a mighty structure we have built for you.”

  I climbed up the ladder. I did not need to look behind me to know that Ragnvald was following. Wherever I went so did he. He was learning to be me. My masons stopped work when I reached the top. They were mainly men of Frankish origin and were skilled builders. They had come for pay and stayed for the protection I offered. When we raided, the coin we accumulated went into defence. We both profited from their labours.

  Father Michael pointed to the outside stones. “See how well made and faced they are. They are strong but, on their own, would not support the weight of the tower. It is these smaller stones which are laid in the opposite direction in the centre which give it its strength.”

  When I had watched the smaller stones being hoisted up, I had thought that the priest was cutting costs. Now I could see he was not. “And how tall will it be when it is finished?” It was now twice as high as my wall and my wall was the height of four men standing on each other’s shoulders. We had captured walls which were only the height of two men. We had learned.

  “As high as two more men. It is almost complete. We have a platform to build and a roof. Then it will be finished.” He shook his head. “I will be sorry to see the work end. It has given my mind much work.”

  “You could always build a second, smaller tower at the north-west corner.”

  “Perhaps but these masons have been told by your wife that she wishes them to build a larger church for her. We have almost used up all the stone we had.” He saw my angry glance and he held up his hands, “I am happy with the church, lord. I did not ask for it to be made bigger. Lady Mary said that if we honoured God with a larger church then he would help the people.”

  “A church which I will be paying for and will never use!” I shook my head. It was not the priest’s fault. “Then I would have you build both at the same time. Six days on the church then six days on the new tower. What say you?”

  The masons nodded happily. Their leader, Charles of Lille said, “More work for us. Have you the coin for it, lord? We will need more stone and it will take time for us to build them both.”

  The Franks preferred the term lord to that of jarl. “We do not have the coin yet, but by the time you have finished this, then we will have.”

  Father Michael frowned, “You go raiding?”

  “It is what we do and we will leave the churches alone this time out of respect for you.”

  “That is a great comfort,” he added drily.

  “We will leave you to your work then, Father Michael.” I was not a Chr
istian but I afforded him the title out of respect.

  Once we were at the bottom Ragnvald said, “And I will be on the raid with you?”

  “I said that you would but we must prepare your mother. She will not be happy. Let us go and see Sven the Helmsman and Harold Fast Sailing. They will need time to prepare the drekar. And remember, my son, you begin at the bottom. You will be a ship’s boy and you know nothing. There will be boys younger than you who know more than you do.” He nodded. He had already seen almost eleven summers and many of the ship’s boys were much younger and had been at sea already. He would be a warrior but he needed to go to sea first. He was a Viking. My wife did not like the thought of his sailing into danger.

  We had also improved our quay and jetty. We had used stones to make a better breakwater and the slipway where Sven and Harald could work on our drekar was better protected. The two of them and their ship’s boys had long ago left the Haugr to live by the slipway. When they could, they sailed our knarr to trade but ‘Kara’ was undergoing some repairs. They stopped their work as we approached.

  “Is the damage much?”

  “She is like ‘Dragon’s Breath’ , Jarl Hrolf. She is getting old. There will come a time soon when we will need to think about replacing both of them.”

  “That will be a sad day, Sven, they have both served us well.”

  “And they will continue to do so for a while but eventually the worm will get into her. No matter how much we look after our ships it is inevitable.”

  “You are right.” I patted the hull affectionately. She had been our first drekar. We had built her at Raven Wing Island. There were many memories in her hull. “I would raid before the month is out.”

  “It is early in the year, jarl. We normally do not raid until Haustmánuður.”

  “My wife has building work planned for her church and I have decided to have a second tower. The masons need payment and we need to buy good stone. The Bretons have stone but they drive a hard bargain.”

  “If we are raiding then we will not need the knarr. We could have the drekar ready in ten days.”

  “Good, then that will be enough time for me to visit all of my farmers and tell them that I will be away.”

  As we walked back to the Haugr I was able to view what we had achieved. When first we had come the Haugr had been a long-abandoned hill fort and the church on the island almost in ruins. There had been few people living close by. Now the land between the sea and the forest teemed with farms. We had cleared great swathes of forest. From Valognes in the south to Bárekr’s Haven in the north, we had farms settled by my men and some of the Franks who sought my protection. Some raised crops. Some raised sheep and cattle. There were some who bred horses. Gilles had been a young boy who had helped me to raise my first horses. Now he and his wife had a horse farm and they raised the horses which my warriors rode. We were the Vikings who rode horses to battle. Gilles had improved our horse stock year by year. They were now bigger and stronger than they had been. Even the Franks tried to buy them from us. I knew that when I raided, my land would be safe. Gilles would remain behind and he and his men would ride my borders. He was not the only one. Alain of Auxerre and his men had been rescued by me from slavery and they had their own hall to the south, close by Valognes. Finally, there was Bertrand. He was a Frank who had fought the Bretons. When the other men had been slain, he had fought on. He now lived north of Bárekr with his wife and his own horsemen. In all, I would leave forty mounted men who would ensure that no one came close to my walls. We did not have a large land. A man could ride across it and back in half a day and the length of it in a day.

  The sentries on the gate smiled as we came through. Ragnvald was popular. He waved cheerfully at them. He liked the company of warriors. They liked the way he tried to copy my actions and my dress. He had a small mail byrnie which Bagsecg Bagsecgson had made for him. There was only one smith who was the equal of Bagsecg and that was his father who lived in the Land of the Wolf. Nagli Naddrson said, “Now that you have a byrnie young Ragnvald, you will need a helmet and a sword.”

  “I have both, Nagli, but my father says I do not need the helmet to walk around the walls and my mother forbids me to carry the sword in case I hurt one of my sisters with it!”

  Nagli shook his head, “Lady Mary is a gentle lady but she should know that Vikings need their swords about them at all times.”

  I led Ragnvald inside, “Do not worry, Nagli, when my son returns from his first raid then he will carry his sword.”

  Ragnvald looked up, “Do you mean that, father? You know how mother is.”

  I leaned in, “I will tell you a secret to do with women, Ragnvald. If you give them a present, then you can ask for anything.”

  “What present will you give her?”

  “I will give her the church she wishes.”

  My daughters raced to the door to greet me when I entered my hall. Matildhe had seen eight summers, Anna six, and the youngest, Marianne, four. Matildhe said, “You were almost late father. You had better hurry and wash. You know how mother is.”

  “I know. Come Ragnvald, let us clean the dirt from us and change into something cleaner.” The cleanliness my wife expected did not come hard to me. Vikings are cleaner than Saxons. We like to bathe and are renowned for our combs, which we use each day not just when we are to go into battle. Ragnvald was the one who was less happy about washing.

  Once we sat at the table my wife always prayed. The children were expected to pray with her. The three girls were Christians but Ragnvald was like me; in his mother’s eyes, he was a pagan. It had brought us into conflict on more than one occasion. The saying of prayers before the meal was a compromise. I could live with it. We thanked Mary’s God for food. Ragnvald just substituted the word Allfather for God and all were happy.

  “I saw you go up the tower with Ragnvald. It is dangerous.”

  “Father Michael was there and besides Ragnvald is light on his feet. He is a good climber.” I winked at Ragnvald. “That skill will come in handy.”

  “What were you speaking about?”

  “He said you wish to have a larger church.”

  “You know I do. I have been asking for one for many years.”

  “The stone and the masons cost money. Where would I get the coin from?”

  “You are the lord. You should tax your people. They benefit from the protection of your warriors. They should be expected to pay a little something in return.”

  We had often argued about this. “That is the Frankish way and I will not do that. It is bad enough that the ones who are Christians pay a tenth to the church.”

  “We do not mind.”

  I bit my tongue. It was my money she gave to the church. I smiled, “Then the only way I can see to get money is to raid.”

  She glanced up at me and then went back to the bread she was eating. It was a sign that I had won that argument. I said nothing. Ragnvald grinned at me and I gave the slightest shake of the head. The stew was good. It was an old hen and my wife had cooked it all day with all manner of vegetables. She had used some of our wine to enrichen it. The wine I drank had been made from our own grapes. Life was good.

  “If you did raid where would you go?”

  I had won. I drank a little of the wine, “As you know we like to vary where we raid. I had thought to raid the land of the Arabs. They are rich and they are not Christians. It struck me as a good idea to use money taken from infidels to pay for a Christian church.” That seemed to please her and she nodded. “And it would be good for Ragnvald to see the land of the Arabs.”

  She looked up, “He is too young!”

  “He has seen eleven summers. He is old enough. Besides I cannot leave him. He will get up to mischief. Of course, I could let him ride the borders with Gilles or Bertrand.”

  “That is just as bad!” I had given her a dilemma. A voyage with his father as opposed to riding with my warriors was the lesser of two evils. She nodded. “Very well!”

&
nbsp; My son and I rode mailed as we went to visit with those who watched my borders. I had my shield and helmet hung from my saddle. It did not do to ride abroad unprotected. I ruffled the mane of my horse and leaned forward to nuzzle his ear. Dream Strider was getting old. He was too old to take to war but since my dog, Nipper, had died I was acutely aware that animals do not live as long as men. I rode Dream Strider whenever I could while I was still able. I think he appreciated our rides too for he kept Ragnvald’s younger horse in his place, turning his head to snort if he tried to get ahead of us. He was the head of my herd and I would be sad when he died. I had one of his offspring as the horse I rode to war. Dream of Freya was a larger horse than his father. He still had much to learn.

  Ragnvald saw my action. “Was Dream Strider your first horse, father?”

  “He was. I had always enjoyed working with horses but until I captured him I owned none. He was the beginning of our herd.”

  “And are we the only Vikings who ride horses?”

  “All Vikings can ride, Ragnvald. We are the only ones I know who fight on horses.” I patted my shield. “It is why we all have two shields. One to use when we fight on foot and this slightly smaller one for when we ride to war. We would not be able to hold on to this land if we did not use horse with stiraps and smaller shields. The Franks are good horsemen.”

  “Better than us?”

  I did not answer him directly. “They have used horses for war longer than we but when we have fought them we have taught them to respect us. They know that we can fight on foot as well as mounted. They cannot. It keeps us safe.”

  We went first to visit Gilles. He lived in what had been Rurik’s first stad before we had captured Valognes and made it our own. Now he lived closer to the sea where the land was flatter and he could exercise his horses on the sand and in the water. The flat land and rich grass was perfect for horses. He had a dozen men who followed his banner. They were all Viking born but had been chosen and trained by Gilles to be riders. He and his wife, Baugheiðr, lived in a hall protected by a stout wall. She was the daughter of my blacksmith and had borne Gilles two sons. Rollo and Erik would be fine horsemen when they grew. His eldest, Rollo, had been born the same year as Anna.