The Land of the Northmen Read online

  The wind was with us until we hit the open sea then it turned. Harold Fast Sailing looked at the sky and the clouds. “It will turn again, Jarl Hrolf but not for an hour or so. The men need to row.”

  Sven nodded, “Good. We will sing Siggi’s song. Let the men sing it with a will so that the other drekar hear it!”

  The men took to their oars. I glanced astern and saw that Siggi had ordered his crew to row too. My drekar had more rowers and they sang lustily.

  Siggi was the son of a warrior brave

  Mothered by a Hibernian slave

  In the Northern sun where life is short

  His back was strong and his arm was taut

  Siggi White Hair warrior true

  Siggi White Hair warrior true

  When the Danes they came to take his home

  He bit the shield and spat white foam

  With berserk fury he killed them dead

  When their captain fell the others fled

  Siggi White Hair warrior true

  Siggi White Hair warrior true

  After they had gone and he stood alone

  He was a rock, a mighty stone

  Alone and bloodied after the fight

  His hair had changed from black to white

  His name was made and his courage sung

  Hair of white and a body young

  Siggi White Hair warrior true

  Siggi White Hair warrior true

  Siggi White Hair warrior true

  Siggi White Hair warrior true

  By the time the wind had turned the men were warmed up and the song had put courage in their hearts. The wind blew from our steerboard quarter. It would take us to Hantone. The Allfather smiled on us. We sailed on through the day. It was not a powerful wind but we did not need it to be. I wanted us to strike the coast after dark. I wanted us to slip into their harbour like two wolves in a sheep pen. King Egbert had been clever. His beacons would warn his people of an attack during the day. At night, they were helpless.

  Ragnvald had wanted me to bring Tadgh and Gurth. He wished them to see my warriors at work. I had told him that this was not their kind of war. The last thing I needed was for two untried warriors to die because they did not know what to do. He had understood. He was learning to be a leader. He helped me to don my mail. I helped him with his. We had the luxury of a wind and straps and belts could be adjusted for we had the luxury of watching the Allfather’s breath take us to our prey. We had time to prepare our war faces. As we would not be rowing we all removed our shields from the side of the drekar. I slipped mine over my back. Then I donned the red cochineal which I had seen the Dragonheart do. I normally did not use it but I wanted us to terrify the Saxons. I wished them to remember the Norsemen who came from the sea. I wanted them to rue the day they tried to defeat the drekar at sea. The dead of the ‘Wild Boar’ would be avenged.

  When darkness fell, we could still not see the land. This was where we relied on the ships’ boys. When Ragnvald saw them scurrying up the shrouds, he understood what they did. Had he not sailed as a ship’s boy he would never have appreciated that their job was as hard and as important as any warrior.

  “Land Ho!”

  The call from the masthead told us that the darker smudge of the coast could be seen. I could not help but look at Sven the Helmsman. I did not know how he could be so certain we would hit the right place. He had kept looking at the sky. It was a clear night but the stars were not yet out. I often thought that good navigators were like galdramenn, they understood things which ordinary men did not.

  “Take in a reef or two! I would not plough onto rocks!”

  The ships’ boys hurried to obey his orders. I looked astern and saw that Siggi had not yet done the same. The boar at the prow of their ship was less than two lengths from me. Siggi realised what Sven had done and he reefed his sail before he rammed into our stern. That would have been more than embarrassing, it would have been disastrous.

  I walked to the prow. The wind was behind and so I would not be able to smell the land but I peered over the prow and, in the distance I caught a brief flash of light, a glow, and then it was extinguished. Experience told me that it was the door of a hut opening and then closing. We were close to a settlement. The Saxons did not build isolated huts close to the sea. They protected them with a wall and towers.

  I walked back down and said to my men as I passed. “It will not be long now.”

  Ragnvald was waiting for me at the steering board. He knew what his instructions were. He and the ships’ boys would set fire to the Saxon ships which were tied up. The warriors had much to do. The firing of the Saxon ships was important but the gathering of their harvest, gold and the collection of slaves was more important. We would not keep the slaves. They would be sold in Dorestad market.

  “Sand!”

  The call from the mast was the last one the lookout would give. Sven whistled three times and the sail was reefed until it was only as deep as a long sword. The wind and the current carried us north. I peered into the darkness and then I saw the white foam marking the entrance to the harbour. Sven aimed at the darker gap; the calmer water. That was the river. I looked astern and saw that Siggi had his drekar directly in line. He would follow his old captain.

  We ghosted slowly and silently into the harbour. The masts of their ships marked their quay and beyond it the buildings and walls of the port. I joined my men at the steerboard side. Sven would lay us alongside one of the Saxon ships and we would use it as a bridge. There would be a watch aboard and they would raise the alarm but we would be swift. I raised myself on to the sheerstrake using the back stay to support me. I saw that the ships occupied the whole of the quay. There were four of them. Two looked to be the warships we had fought while the other two had lower freeboard; they looked to be merchant vessels. Sven headed for them. Siggi would lay alongside us. It would make Ragnvald’s task easier.

  We were just twenty paces from the merchantman when one of the watch on one of the Saxon warships stood at the stern to make water. I cursed myself for we had no arrow ready to slay him and he managed to call out a warning. The sound carried across the silent night. Men would hear it and wonder what it meant. We had moments only. As we bumped into the merchant ship I let go of the line and threw myself onto the deck of the Saxon. I drew my sword. A Saxon rose before me.

  “What the…”

  I silenced the question with a hack across his throat. I pushed his body away and ran across the ship and down the gangplank. I drew my seax and left my shield around my back. I could run faster unencumbered by a shield. The houses were almost within touching distance. They were wattle and daub. The shout from the warship had alerted them and I saw the light from fires as the doors of the huts and halls were opened and men peered out.

  A Viking warrior and leader has to trust the men he leads. When he runs and fights he expects his men to be behind him. Even though it was in the dark I knew that I had men behind me. When the six or seven warriors who rushed from the hall faced me I was not afraid. I did not look around for help. I ran at them shouting, “Clan of the Horse!” They would not hear my words; they would hear a war cry. They would see a warrior clad in mail with two bright weapons held in his hands and behind him they would see a sea of similarly clad enemies following him like a wave of death.

  The Saxons halted. Some had shields some had not. Some had spears and some had swords. I ran into them without pause. Flicking up the Saxon spear with Heart of Ice I tore my seax across the throat of the first warrior. I felt a spear head rasp and grate along the right-hand side of my byrnie. I punched blindly with the pommel of my sword and was rewarded with the flesh of a face. Then there was the weight of bodies behind me as some of my men formed on me and pushed me, like a human battering ram through the Saxons. They were slain by warriors who knew their business. Ahead I saw a flash of light from a large building and a horde of Saxons spilled out. These had been arming. They had helmets. Some had mail and all had a shield. It was tim
e for us to form up.

  I halted and put my seax back in its scabbard as I pulled around my shield.

  “Shield wall! Wedge!”

  I pulled my shield around. Behind me, to my right, Arne Four Toes put his shield into my back and to my left Erik Long Hair put his to lock behind mine. Others fell in behind them. We chanted as we marched towards them. The chant helped us to march together and, as we banged our shields on each line, it sounded like a drum of doom to our foes. It also acted as a rallying cry to the warriors who were still flooding ashore. They knew where the head of the clan and his warriors were and drew them like moths to a flame. The wedge could grow.

  Clan of the Horseman

  Warriors strong

  Clan of the Horseman

  Our reach is long

  Clan of the Horseman

  Fight as one

  Clan of the Horseman

  Death will come

  The Saxon centre bristled with spears. They had shields overlaid so that there was nowhere for us to hit flesh. It was a good formation. We had used one ourselves. The difference was that we were Vikings and we saw it as a challenge and not an obstacle. I was the tip of the wedge and, for the first few heartbeats of the fight I would have to face four or five spears. I was jarl and that was my role. Erik’s shield would protect one side while Arne would use his shield to protect my sword arm while using his sword to probe for weaknesses. Arne was like a rock. When he guarded my back then I knew I was safe.

  The Saxon spear came for my face. It was the only piece of flesh they could see. There was precious little of it anyway. With the nasal hiding my nose and my beard most of my face it was just the part below my eyes they could see. I flicked my shield up and the spear slid harmlessly over my helmet. My sword was held above and before me. I brought it sideways at the Saxon’s head. His shield came up and, as he did so, Arne’s sword punched through the hole he had left. The edge slid along his mail. The blow was a powerful one and although it did not find flesh it winded the warrior. Arne’s sword came down a second time and this time it struck him below the edge of his helmet. It ripped into his skull and he fell dead.

  The beauty of the wedge now showed itself. The three of us had broken the integrity of their shield wall. We had entered their shield wall. The second rank had shields held up and there was nothing to protect them. The second rank did not wear mail. Our three swords slashed blindly in the dark that was the Saxon shield wall. I did not see what I struck but the cries and groans told me I had found flesh. Our swords were made for such work; slashing and sweeping against unprotected bodies. Behind me I heard the chant from the rest of my men as they saw the breach and put their weight behind my men to end this.

  Clan of the Horseman

  Warriors strong

  Clan of the Horseman

  Our reach is long

  Clan of the Horseman

  Fight as one

  Clan of the Horseman

  Death will come

  It felt as though I was on a drekar and the wind and tide were with me. I was pushed forward. Had my men not been chanting then I might have fallen but I kept the rhythm with the chant of my men. My feet moved in time to the beat. I could see little save a sea of Saxon faces. Weapons were a blur. Most of those we fought had spears. They had been intended to keep us at bay and now they were useless. They were a long weapon and we were inside them. I punched one Saxon in the face with the boss of my shield. As he tumbled to the ground Erik Long Hair slashed his sword across his throat. I lunged at the Saxon before me. I had had Bagsecg put a sharp tip on Heart of Ice. It found flesh and I pushed and twisted as I did so. I felt the edge grate along bone and the Saxon screamed his death song.

  Then there was no one before me. I had reached the wall of the hall. The Saxon shield wall was now split asunder. Arne and Erik turned. The men behind them emulated them. They began to eat into the Saxons before them. The Saxons had lost the shields which had protected them. My men had mail and they had swords. It was butchery. I joined Arne. My shield was next to the wall of the hall and I was able to swing my sword over the top of my shield and that of Arne. With no one behind me any longer I could put all of my power into each blow. When I had first joined the Raven Wing Clan I had been a stripling. Ulf Big Nose had laughed at my spindly arms and weak chest. Since then I had rowed. I had pulled a bow. I had held wild horses at the end of a halter and my arms were like knotted oak. My chest was broad and I was a whole head taller than the Saxons we fought. When my sword came down it mattered not if there was an edge to it. It would be like being struck with an iron bar. Bones broke. Blood was spilled. We ground our way through them.

  Their wall around the burgh was there to deter enemies. However, we had come from the sea and it now acted as a prison. The only way out was through the gate. While I had led my men to the hall Jarl Thorbolt Sweynson had led his men around us to the gate. I could not see it but I heard the screams and wails as the women and children, the old and those too afraid to face the Northmen all tried to get through one gate. It became clogged. We had a fish net and only the tiddlers escaped. The men were slain and the rest cowed and captured.

  The warriors we faced had courage. They were fighting for their families and their homes. They died but they died well. They did not surrender. They fought until they could fight no more. It was no longer a battle of two lines it was warrior against warrior. Now they used their swords. Saxons made good swords. It was a pity they did not know how to use them. We did. With better shields and mail any blows they struck did little harm. Ours, in contrast, hurt, maimed and killed. As dawn broke, the last of the warriors was slain.

  My men began to cheer and bang their shields.

  Folki came to me, “Do we slaughter the men?”

  I shook my head, “Leave them. Their priests can heal them. Arne, choose the best captives; the ones we can easily sell and take them to the drekar.”

  “Aye jarl.”

  “Erik Long Hair, take the rest of the men and search the buildings. Take whatever there is. Leave them nothing.”

  “Aye jarl.”

  “Folki have your men take our dead with us. We will bury them at sea.”

  “And you, Jarl Hrolf?”

  “I will go and see how Jarl Thorbolt Sweynson has done.” I slung my shield over my back and sheathed my sword.

  I made my way to the gate. There were scattered bodies. I saw Eystein Sound of Thunder. He had been one of Jarl Thorbolt Sweynson’s men. He had fallen but I saw that he had a smile on his face. He had had his vengeance. He had died with a sword in his hand. He could face his comrades in Valhalla.

  The Saxon captives cowered beneath the glower of the jarl and his men. They had vented their anger and hatred on the warriors but now they itched to slaughter all. “Well done, men of the ‘Wild Boar’ . Take the captives to the hall. Arne Four Toes will choose the best captives.”

  “Do we not slaughter those we do not want?”

  “No, Jarl Thorbolt Sweynson. We take what we can sell. We take their grain, their mail, their swords. We take their treasures and their holy books. The rest we leave.” He had the blood of battle in his eyes. I had seen it before. “This is my command, obey me. You are now Clan of the Horse.”

  I did not shout but the authority in my voice seemed to make him see me. He nodded, “You are right, Jarl Hrolf. It was my dead men I saw.”

  I waved my hand, “And these did not slay your men. Their menfolk did and they have paid the price. These will remember the day the Northmen came. It is time to go.”

  He and his men drove the captives towards the hall. The gate was open. I knew that some would have escaped. The fyrd would be raised and we would soon have more enemies to fight. It was time to go.

  Chapter 8

  My son, Sven the Helmsman and Siggi Far Sighted had not been idle. The Saxon ships had been moved and tied together to make it easier to load our drekar which they had tied to the quay. They had then fired the ships and allowed the wind to blow the
m to the other side of the harbour. There they burned and smoked. Gradually they would settle into the water and the harbour would have a narrow channel. Each time their ships entered they would see the blackened masts and remember the Northmen. As we left we set fire to the town wall. Soon the whole of the walls would be ablaze fuelled by the southerly breeze. By the time I reached the quay, with Arne and the captives, the drekar had been loaded. The two ships were low in the water. I pointed to the beacon, “Ragnvald, you light good fires. Set alight that beacon. It will be the last warning it sends.”

  “Aye father.” He led the ships’ boys and they placed kindling at the base of the beacon. The Saxons would rebuild but it would take time. This port would rise from the ashes again but not for some time. If any other Viking raided this coast they would not suffer the same fate as the ‘Wild Boar ’. We had breached their defences. Leaving the priests, women and children to care for the wounded Saxons I was the last to step aboard our drekar and we headed south. The wind was against us and we sang as we rowed.

  Arne chose a song about me. I did not choose it but it seemed appropriate.

  The horseman came through darkest night

  He rode towards the dawning light

  With fiery steed and thrusting spear

  Hrolf the Horseman brought great fear

  Slaughtering all he breached their line

  Of warriors slain there were nine

  Hrolf the Horseman with gleaming blade

  Hrolf the Horseman all enemies slayed

  With mighty axe Black Teeth stood

  Angry and filled with hot blood

  Hrolf the Horseman with gleaming blade

  Hrolf the Horseman all enemies slayed

  Ice cold Hrolf with Heart of Ice

  Swung his arm and made it slice

  Hrolf the Horseman with gleaming blade

  Hrolf the Horseman all enemies slayed