The Land of the Northmen Page 2

  Gilles was working with his men in his training circle. He called it a gyrus. Father Michael had taught him that word. It was what the Romans had used to train their horses. They were schooling horses. Gilles and his men not only raised horses, they prepared them for war. We had many riders but only Gilles was the horse master. He and I had lived on Raven Wing Island and done the same there. His horses went for the highest prices. As I dismounted he came over to me and stroked Dream Strider. Gilles had looked after my horse when I had first begun breeding my animals.

  “Now then, you old villain. Looking for this?” Dream Strider had nuzzled his head close to the leather satchel Gilles had about his shoulder. He reached in and brought out an apple. “You were always partial to these eh?” He gave the apple to Dream Strider and then said, “Rollo and Erik take the horses and water them.”

  “Aye father.” His two young sons eagerly obeyed their horse master father.

  Once Ragnvald would have gone with the two young boys but he had grown over the winter. He was less of a boy now. A Viking became a man when he had seen thirteen summers. Some were married by fourteen or fifteen. He followed Gilles and I.

  “Your sons are growing.”

  “Aye. Rollo has seen five summers and Erik four. They now look longingly at horses rather than the ponies I let them ride. They are envious of Ragnvald.”

  “He was always big. It is the size of a rider and not his age which determines his mount.”

  “You are right there, jarl. Soon I will have Baugheiðr’s father make them their first byrnies. He will enjoy that. He dotes on his two grandsons.”

  As we leaned on the rail and watched his men working with the horses I glanced to his hall and saw that he had two sentries in his wooden tower. “It is good that you are vigilant. I will be taking my drekar to raid in a few days. You will need to ride the borders to the west. Bertrand can watch the north and Alain the south.”

  “Where to this time?”

  “I had thought to raid the land of the Arabs. They have fine gold and weapons.”

  “But they are dangerous.”

  “They are far away. We raided Aquitaine last year. I want them to become less vigilant. We will raid others for the next couple of seasons.”

  He nodded, “It is early to be raiding.”

  “Mary would have a larger church. We need the coin to pay the masons and to buy the stone.”

  Gilles would never criticise Mary. The three of us had lived in small hut for some time before I had married my former slave and Gilles viewed her more as a sister. He did not understand her religion but he would not make a critical comment about it.

  “When you return if you have some fine cloth I would trade horses for it. Baugheiðr does not complain but I know she would like clothes which were as fine as Mary’s.”

  “Of course. And now I will ride to Valognes. Have you visited with Rurik lately?”

  “I have been busy but his son, Hrolf, has visited me a couple of times. He tells me how the old goat is. He seems to enjoy being lord of Valognes. I do not think that he will wish to come to sea with you. He has grown a little fatter of late.” He laughed, “or so his son says.”

  I laughed, “He is entitled to enjoy a life filled with ale and good food. He is one of the oldest warriors left to me now and he has served me well. Think of the ones we have buried, Gilles.”

  “Aye but they all had the warrior’s death.”

  Ragnvald and I headed through the forest to Valognes. There had been a time when this had been the land of the Franks. We had fought beneath its leaves and branches and men had died there. Since we had captured Valauna and renamed it Valognes it had now become our hunting ground. Young men came to hunt the wild boar and deer. It helped to hone their skills as warriors. As we emerged I smelled the smoke from the halls of my old friend. The town had many Franks within it. They carried on their lives much as they had done when King Louis the Pious had been their king. Now they had no king. When we had made the peace, it was with the understanding that what we held we kept. Rurik One Ear was a good lord and no one missed the King of the Franks and his tax collectors.

  Alain of Auxerre had a hall which lay close to the walls of Valognes. We had not built this town. We had taken it over and there was no room inside for Alain, his men and, most importantly, his stables. He and Rurik’s men had made the hall secure by extending the town ditch. However, Alain still had to mount a nightly guard on his horses. When we had rescued him, he had brought just eight men. Others who were like Alain, spears for hire, had heard of us and come to join our clan. Alain vetted them and took only those he either knew or felt he could trust. Alain now commanded twenty men. This was the largest of my horse bands. With their mail and large horses, they were a potent force. They also made a fine show. With their blue cloaks embroidered with a silver sword and their identical helmets, they looked like royal warriors.

  There was no sign of them at their hall and I rode through the gates of the stronghold. Rurik had made it stronger in the six years he had occupied it. He and his wife Agnathia had lived on the frontier and knew how to protect themselves and their people. Rurik had no hearth weru. His town watch kept watch on his walls. Although a greybeard he was still a fierce warrior and it would take a brave man to face him in combat.

  Hrolf was younger than Ragnvald but they had played together as children. It was Hrolf who met us at the gate and had a slave see to our horses. “Father will be pleased to see you, Jarl Hrolf. Will you stay long?”

  I shook my head, “I would return to my home before nightfall. Perhaps you could take Ragnvald and show him the improvements your father has made to his town.”

  I saw that my son was torn between a desire to speak with Hrolf and tell him, no doubt, about his coming raid, and the curiosity of my meeting with Rurik. Hrolf decided for him. “Come, I have my first byrnie and sword. Let me show you.” A Viking, no matter what the age, always like swords.

  His servants and slaves knew me and I was ushered into Rurik’s great hall. He had not built it but it suited him. It was grand and well apportioned. My old oar brother had grown portlier. He was well fed. He liked his food and his wife ensured he had plenty. When he had served with me at the oars he had shed weight easily. Now he had little to do. Weight piled on. I did not begrudge him his fine food. He kept this most valuable of towns as the fortress of the south. So long as we held this and the Haugr in the north then my land would be safe.

  He rose to greet me, “A most pleasant surprise, jarl! What brings you here? Is there war?”

  “No, old friend, but I go to raid the Arabs. We need gold. I came to let you and Alain know that I would be sailing in the next ten days or so.”

  “Arabs eh? Nasty bastards they are, Jarl Hrolf, but then you would know that. When we sailed with Jarl Gunnar Thorfinnson one of them nearly gutted you as I recall.”

  “Aye he did but I intend to head further south. The Caliphate has been under attack from the Franks. Perhaps they have left their ports unguarded. It is a gamble but we need gold and they have more than the Saxons.”

  He nodded, “Do you want me to sail with you?”

  I did not want to insult him and so I shook my head, “No Rurik. You serve me better by staying here and making sure that the crops are sown and animals bred.”

  “And the fact that I am a little heavier now and have not gone to war for four seasons has nothing to do with your decision.” He wagged a finger at me, “Honesty between old shipmates, Jarl Hrolf.”

  “Would you wish to come?”

  “I would like to say yes but then I remember the days when the seas broke over our prow and we rowed until we had salt and blisters on our hands. Going a-viking is for young warriors. I like my comfort.”

  “But you will watch my land?”

  “Of course, and if danger comes then I will deal with it.”

  “Has there been any sign of trouble?”

  “Alain generally deals with the Franks but I shift my carcas
s occasionally and ride to our nearest neighbours. The Franks keep their peace and we keep ours. I heard that Charles, Louis’ brother, has stopped his rebellion in exchange for the land of Aquitaine and Vasconia.”

  I chuckled, “Louis is a clever king. He puts his brother in the direct path of the Arabs, Visigoths and Lombards. In defending his new lands Charles protects Louis.”

  “So long as they keep away from our borders, Jarl Hrolf, then I am happy.”

  We left just before evening. It was later than I had wanted but Agnathia and Rurik had insisted on entertaining us and then Alain of Auxerre returned. It meant I was able to speak to Alain. He had been a prisoner of the Arabs and knew their ways. He, too, wondered if I needed him to come with me.

  “No Alain. You are no oarsman. I will be taking Vikings only on my drekar. I have taken Bertrand before. Franks were not meant to fight at sea or to land from a drekar. It is not in their blood. Do not worry, you and your men will share in our bounty for you are our clan. We all serve in our own ways.”

  After I had seen Bertrand at Bárekr’s Haven I felt happier. My four leaders knew my mind and we could plan the raid confident that my land would be protected.

  My son and I spent the next few days at the drekar. I wanted him to see the work which went into raiding. You did not simply hoist the sail and go. We had to ensure the bottom was free of weed. Sven and Harold made sure that the ballast was correctly distributed and secured. It could make all the difference and add extra speed. Sven had all the ropes and the tackle replaced. Our rope makers had made lengths of new rope for us. We would keep the old ones to use as buffers to protect the hull when we tied up in ports. We also had a new sail. The old one was still serviceable but it would be kept as a spare and an awning. As Harold pointed out we would be sailing where the sun was hotter and the shade it would provide might help us sail further and longer.

  Then we began to load the supplies. First, we loaded the spears, throwing spears, arrows and lead balls for the slingers. Secondly, we packed spare swords and seaxes. We never threw any weapon out. Some were melted down the others were kept to be used in an emergency. Finally, we loaded the food and water. We would also take ale and beer but that would be the last thing to be loaded, along with the bread, as both would only last for a few days. The main source of food was salted meat and pickled fish. When we sailed later in the year we also had a plentiful supply of apples. As winter had only just ended we had none.

  The day before we sailed the men who would be sailing made their way to the quay. Each had his own chest. Every chest had unique contents. Mine had my wolf cloak. I was not Ulfheonar but I had killed a wolf and the cloak was useful when I scouted. I had my old seal skin boots. I would wear those when the seas became rough. I had a spare set of clothes and two spare daggers. My combs and spare clasps and fastenings for my cloak and my breeks were also there. Finally, there was the thick woollen cloak that doubled as a blanket. Until we fought, my mail byrnie and helmet would also be in my chest wrapped in an oiled sheepskin it would be protected from the salt sea. My chest would be at the steering board. The others would have theirs at their oar. Their chest would be their bench.

  I helped Ragnvald to pack his chest. He took more clothes than I had. He would be part of the crew. He would work this voyage as a ship’s boy. He had more chance of getting wet and dry clothes were vital. His byrnie and helmet were also in his chest. He was excited. As my men placed their chests next to their oar I pointed to Sven the Helmsman. “You had better go and ask Sven where your station will be when we sail.”

  “But you are jarl!”

  “And he is captain! He will assign you a position. You are the newest of the ship’s boys. Expect the worst and the hardest jobs. You will find that any mistakes will result in a clip or worse.”

  “But I thought…”

  “You thought that being the son of the jarl meant that you would have an easier time. You were wrong. You start at the bottom. I did. Watch and learn. Listen more than you speak and when an order is shouted do not question it. Obey.” I saw his shoulders sag and his face fell. “You are regretting being allowed on the ship?”

  “No but it is not what I expected.”

  “Then we have given you a lesson in life already for life is not what you expect. If we are lucky we will raid successfully and most of us will return alive. The Norns are spinning their webs. Who knows what they have planned for us.”

  Chapter 2

  We had a long voyage ahead of us and we had some crew members who had not sailed with us before. Some of the older warriors like Rurik would not be with us and so we had to rearrange the rowers before we left. Harold Fast Sailing did this. To make it easier we sailed when it was morning with good light. There was no hurry and Harold and Sven would move men around until the balance and the rhythm were right. Poor Ragnvald found the first morning a nightmare. Where the other ships’ boys raced up stays and shrouds he struggled, slipped and at one point fell, to land in a heap by the mast fish. He had to learn. By noon we were at Ċiriċeburh and Sven was happy with the rowers. The wind was blowing from the west and so Sven had the men row. Until we turned south the oars would be needed to ensure we did not run aground.

  Arne Four Toes had taken over from Rurik and he led the rowers in their chant. It was he would keep the beat. The song we sang was from the old days. It was a song of the Raven Wing Clan. It was carefully chosen to honour the dead and to show the younger warriors that we never forgot a shield brother.

  The night was black no moon was there

  Death and danger hung in the air

  As Raven Wing closed with the shore

  The scouts crept closer as before

  Dressed like death with sharpened blades

  They moved like spirits through the glades

  The power of the raven grows and grows

  The power of the raven grows and grows

  With sentries slain they sought new foes

  A cry in the night fetched them woes

  The alarm was given the warriors ready

  Four scouts therewith hearts so steady

  Ulf and Arne thought their end was nigh

  When Hrolf the wild leapt from the sky

  Flying like the raven through the air

  He felled the Cymri, a raven slayer

  The power of the raven grows and grows

  The power of the raven grows and grows

  His courage clear he still fought on

  Until the clan had battled and won

  The power of the raven grows and grows

  The power of the raven grows and grows

  Raven Wing Goes to war

  Hear our voices hear them roar

  A song of death to all its foes

  The power of the raven grows and grows.

  The power of the raven grows and grows.

  The power of the raven grows and grows.

  As soon as we had enough open water the oars were shipped and the first of the barrels broached. Rowing was thirsty work. Eventually it would be water but while we had fresh beer we would drink it. I stood at the steering board with Sven and Harald. We had already worked out where we would raid. There was a rich island called Qādis. The Romans had built there and now the Arabs who had captured the island had made it a rich city once more. There was also a rich city called Ishbiliyya. This was fifty miles from the sea according to the seafarers we had spoken to in Dorestad. Dorestad was where we gathered our information. Many Byzantine ships called there to trade their pots for the lace which were produced close by. Finally, there was Walbah. This was on the coast. While not as large as the other two it was a safer target. Our intention was to scout out Qādis. If we could attack it then we would. If not, then we would raid Walbah. Ishbiliyya would be a secondary target if our raid on Walbah went well.

  Harold pointed south, “Of course, Jarl Hrolf, we could just lie in wait for their merchant ships. I fear no ship save a drekar.”

  I shook my head, “There is
always the risk that we win and yet the enemy ships s sinks taking with it the treasure we would take. If the Allfather sends one our way, then we will risk it but I prefer the guarantee of a town we can attack at dawn when those inside are still asleep.”

  “You are Jarl.”

  “Aye but I do listen to you.”

  Nagli Naddrson sat with me at the steering board, “I do not understand these people, jarl. I have not raided this far south before. They are dark skinned I believe. Some say as black as night.”

  “Some are and some are like the Franks of Aquitaine. It is their faith which binds them into one people. They follow the same god as the Jews and the Christians and yet they fight them. I do not understand it yet it suits us. They fight a war at land and leave their sea lanes open.”

  “Why do they fight for their gods. I do not understand it.”

  Nagli was young, he was just a couple of summers older than Ragnvald. I did not mind explaining. “With our people, you choose your god. Most of us choose the Allfather but some like Loki or Thor. If you wish to change gods it is your decision to do so. The gods war but that is in Asgard and we just hear their battles. That is the way it should be. The gods do what they want. Men do not war because they like Loki more than Odin.”

  “Then this will be an easy raid?”

  “No, it will not. We know not what to expect. Sven and Harold think that there will be much treasure as they collect their taxes. Some are sent from Qādis. If we are lucky and the Allfather smiles on our venture we will be rich, but they are fierce warriors and as fearless as we. Never forget that.”

  As the sun dipped, we pulled in to a small river in Vasconia. There were no people living nearby and we were able to beach the drekar and camp ashore. We could sail at night but with a rusty crew it was safer to camp. Poor Ragnvald was exhausted by the time he wandered over to me. I had been speaking with Folki and my warriors. We had gone over what my plans were. My son lay down in a ball.