Viking Legend Read online

  I held my sword at the side of my shield and I sliced forwards and up. I felt it grind against the links of the mail byrnie. I pulled my hand back a little and punched harder. This time the links I had weakened broke. And my sword found flesh. I leaned into the strike and kept pushing. I could feel him trying to get his own sword out but the press of men was too much. Next to me Gunnar had been hit in the side of the head by a spear and his cheek was bleeding but that just seemed to make him more determined than ever. He head butted his opponent and as he reeled back stabbed him in the throat.

  The warriors we fought might have been good warriors but there was neither order nor leadership to be seen. We kept our shields locked; they were bigger shields than those of our enemies. Our swords were better and sharper. We fought together.

  Suddenly a huge war hammer came from over the heads of the front line of their warriors. It swung at our front rank and I heard the crunch as it hit the skull of a warrior to my left. I was splattered with blood and brains. I stabbed at the warrior before me and my sword slit along his face. He reeled back and the warrior with the hammer stepped along to the gap so that he could get to me. He swung his hammer at me. I barely had time to lift my shield and take the blow. A spear darted from beneath me and I felt it hit my mail and then my leather byrnie. I brought my sword down hard and it bit into the shaft and then cut it. The hammer blow was so hard that it briefly numbed my hand. It was time to take the offensive.

  “Gunnar, Eystein, on my command punch with your shield and then stab with your sword. We need space.”

  “Aye Jarl.”

  I saw the hammer being raised again. “Now!”

  The boss of my shield caught the warrior in front of me on the nasal of his helmet. His nose erupted in blood, bone and cartilage. More importantly his head flew back and smacked into the warrior with the hammer. I stabbed into the bare throat of the warrior with the broken nose and, as he fell, stepped forward to hit the hammer man with my shield. Already overbalanced he began to flail his arms as he fell. I brought my sword diagonally across his neck so hard that his head hung, briefly, by a flap of skin before the gory mess fell amongst those behind him.

  I had accidentally created a wedge. I decided to exploit it and I hit the next warrior with my shield. My warriors emulated me and the heavy metal bosses of our shields pushed the Scots and the Saxons back. Any blows they struck were taken on mail. The warriors in our second rank kept up the pressure by thrusting through the gaps. Although they caused few deaths they distracted the enemy long enough for our swords to wound and kill.

  I noticed that the arrows had ceased to fly over our heads. They had run out of arrows. It was down to less than seventy men now to fight the combined Scots and Saxon armies yet, incredibly, it was they who were going back. When I began to stab and hack into warriors without mail I knew that their best warriors had fallen. Eanred’s oathsworn had been thrown away. I spied crudely made weapons ahead and knew that they were the fyrd. If we could wreak havoc with those then they might flee.

  Then I heard Beorn’s voice. He was on the far right of my line. “It is Ketil and his men. They are attacking the Northumbrians!”

  I shouted, “Now is the time! On my warriors! One more push and we will have them at our mercy!”

  All of our words were in Norse and I knew that the enemy had no idea what I had said. They could tell, however, that we were going to attack for their shields came together as they tried to weather the storm of our blades and shields. Had they had bigger shields then they might have held us. If they had worn mail or had helmets which were better made then their resistance might have been stronger. As it was I brought my sword over my head and smashed it down on a Scottish helmet. The warrior had no padding and the blow would have cracked his skull but his helmet was so poorly made that I split the helmet in two and then his skull.

  Our opponents tried lifting their tiny shields when we raised our swords and then we used our shields. We were relentless. We smashed our way through their lines. And then Ketil and his warriors struck the flank of the Northumbrians. They quite literally tore through the poorly armed fyrd who fled. It was not just one or two it was the whole force who threw down their weapons and ran to the rear as fast as they could. My accidentally formed wedge now began to cut through the two halves of the enemy warriors. There was no longer any order or leadership. Their eorls and chiefs lay dead.

  Then the horn sounded three times. We knew what that meant. They were retreating. The last warrior I slew was a greybeard. Perhaps he had had enough of life or could not face the dishonour of retreat. Whatever the reason he tried to strike me with his sword. I held up my shield and heard the clang of his sword. When it came away it was bent. I swung my sword hard and high. His shield was smaller and my sword shattered it and drove on into his shoulder. He was a brave man and even as he dropped his shield he swung again at me with his bent sword. I blocked it and said, “Go to your god!” I stabbed him in the throat and he died, sword in hand, instantly.

  And then it was over. My men wandered the field giving the warrior’s death to those too badly wounded to run. All of the others ran. Arne and Ketil found many over the coming weeks lying, where they had died on the roads north and east. Some made it twenty miles before they died. The two armies road home was marked with the bones of their dead.

  I took off my helmet and walked to the river. After most battles warriors clasped those with whom they had fought shoulder to shoulder or spoke quietly to those who were wounded; we did so. I left those who had fought with me doing just that and I went to the river to bathe and to thank the pony whose sacrifice had ensured victory.

  “Thank you Allfather and Icaunis. Thank you white horse from the north.”

  I put my whole head under the water and felt the cool river water rush across my face. I rubbed my face to remove the cochineal and the blood spattered during the battle. When I rose I felt cleansed. I turned and saw Haaken and Wolf Killer approaching. They too were bloodied. We had been so close to our foes that it had been impossible to avoid such gore. Eystein limped behind. His bandaged leg was no longer bloody.

  “That was hard fought.” Wolf Killer did as I did and immersed his head in the river.

  “Aye.” I remembered the warrior who had been struck by the war hammer. He had been standing close to Eystein on my left. “Who was struck by that war hammer?”

  “It was Thorir the Slow. He knew nothing about it. He had just slain two with one strike. He is in Valhalla.”

  Haaken said, “There are many in Valhalla.”

  I looked at him, “Ulfheonar?”

  “No Jarl we all live to fight another day.”

  Eystein put his hand for me to help him up, “And our young crew of ‘Odin’s Breath’ are all better for these three days. They have stood in shield wall and not broken. They know what it is to be a warrior.”

  I turned to Wolf Killer. “I thank you for your support in this battle. This is far from your home. I will not forget the sacrifice your men made.”

  “We are all one family and one people. We fight all who are enemies. Had we not come then who knows, we might have been next.”

  We headed back to the lines where the bodies of the enemy were already being stripped. Snorri stood while Beorn tended to a wound he had suffered. “It is a pity we could not pursue them Jarl.”

  “Aye. I will see Ketil. He can use the captured horses and follow the Saxons. We will march north tomorrow and make sure that King Alpín mac Echdach has left our land Wolf Killer and Sigtrygg can return to their homes.” They both nodded, “Take the men from the valley with you. I will just take the Ulfheonar and the crew of ‘Odin’s Breath’ with me.”

  I saw Leif still clutching my banner. He was leaning on it as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. I walked to him. “You did well Leif the Banner. Should you ever choose to go a-Viking I would happily have you in my crew.”

  “And I will take you up, Jarl but after this slaughter I would
get back to my father’s farm and feel the good earth in my hands.”

  “Aye, you have been on a journey and you need to think about that journey before deciding what to do next.”

  Ketil headed to me. His men were still searching the bodies for treasure. “I am sorry that we were late, Jarl. We found some horsemen who were heading down the valley. It took some time to kill them.”

  “I thank you for that. Where were they going?”

  “We questioned one who was wounded. They were heading for your home, Cyninges-tūn. King Eanred had heard of it from Magnus. He sought to punish you for your attack on his home by attacking yours.”

  I nodded, “Then this is not over between us. We have captured some horses. I would have you and your men follow Eanred and make sure they return home.”

  He nodded, “With the horses we took from the raiders I can mount all of my men. This was a great victory Jarl. You defeated two kings. Men will speak of this for years to come.”

  “I could not have done it alone. I had jarls on whom I could rely and warriors who were as brave as any in Valhalla.”

  It took until dark to finish burying our dead. We built pyres for the enemy dead. Arne’s people brought us food and we ate surrounded by the bone fires of the Scots and Saxons. When Arne’s farmers collected the ash they would have richer crops. They would benefit from the sacrifice of my warriors. We had buried forty of my warriors in two barrows and twenty from Sigtrygg and Wolf Killer in a second. Some of those who died had been in their first battle but for others this was one of many. There were greybeards who would not return home. Haaken sang us two or three verses from the song he composed. It was not finished but it honoured those who had fallen.

  Wolf Killer led the warriors who were heading south. Ketil had left before dawn to pursue Eanred. The battlefield felt lonely as I led my Ulfheonar and the young crew north. Over half of the young men now had mail and all had spare helmets and swords. They looked burdened as we marched north but none would leave behind the evidence that they had been in a battle.

  We found the first Scottish bodies by the wall. One had had a stomach wound and he lay, looking almost alive, against the turf bank of the wall. Two others were on the other side. None had treasure. Their own men had taken it. We found others every mile or so. Snorri spotted the horse droppings. They were still fresh and told us that King Alpín mac Echdach was not far ahead. He would probably outnumber my small band but I wanted him to know we were not afraid of him and were happy to follow him.

  By the middle of the afternoon we had reached the Esk. We had left behind the land which Arne ruled for me. Beyond the wooden bridge lay the land of the Scots, there Alpín mac Echdach ruled. I took the decision. “We will cross.”

  Haaken smiled, “You seek more glory, Jarl?”

  “No Haaken, I am putting down my mark on this land.” There was a village just five hundred paces from the bridge. “We take the village and we burn it. Then we destroy the bridge behind us. This will leave a message for King Alpín mac Echdach. He can do as he wishes to the land north of this river but south is ours and he ventures this way at his peril.”

  We headed for the village. I heard a shout and the villagers began to flee. Some of the young warriors broke ranks to pursue them. “Stay in line.” By the time we reached the huts almost all the villagers had fled. They had left a few animals and their huts gaping wide. One old man stood there in the centre holding an ancient sword. I sheathed my own and took off my helmet. I walked up to him, “You would fight us all, old man?”

  He shrugged, “I have lived long enough and I would rather die fighting than be captured and enslaved. Come Viking. I will show you that we can die as well as you.”

  “No, this is not your day to die. Nor will you be enslaved. Go to your king and tell him that Jarl Dragonheart warns him to stay north of the Esk. If any come south they will never return.”

  The old man lowered his heavy sword. “I can go?”

  “You can go and you have my word that you will not be harmed.”

  He smiled, “I know that you are never foresworn. Even those who hate you say that you speak the truth. Thank you Jarl Dragonheart.”

  He put his sword on his shoulder and trudged north.

  “Gather the animals and drive them south. Search the huts. They usually bury their coins in pots in the ground. Find soft earth and seek them.”

  With my Ulfheonar to guide them it did not take the young warriors long to discover the pots with the coins, amulets, pendants and precious stones they had hidden.

  “Fire the huts and bring kindling and brands to the bridge.”

  The huts were well alight and the smoke drifted north as a smoky message for the king. When all of my men were across the bridge and the kindling laid in four piles I set fire to them and walked to my land. The autumn rains had been light and the bridge was dry. Soon it was a raging inferno. I waited until the middle section fell hissing into the Esk before I followed my men south. We camped well south of the battlefield for we did not want the spirits of the enemy dead to disturb our sleep. When we rose there was an unseasonal flurry of snow. As we passed the col into the land of the Grassy Mere I knew that winter would soon come. The gods would put a wall of snow and ice around us to protect us and we would be safe from our enemies until the spring.

  Epilogue

  Although my warriors had been hurt and there were homes now without men Cyninges-tūn and the other settlements had prospered during the summer and the harvest had been a good one. Our trades had gone well and we had all that we needed for the winter. Our granaries were full. We had preserved meat and the extra animals we had collected meant that we would not go hungry even if we had another wolf winter.

  As Yule approached I gave thought to the winter celebration. Brigid would want to commemorate the birth of the White Christ. I had seen little of my daughter since my return. She had been in the house of healing, along with Aiden, treating the warriors who had been wounded. For my part I had spent all of my time with my wife and my son. I was, therefore, shocked, when I went into her house of healing and saw her and Aiden embracing.

  They gave me a guilty look and then Kara came over to me and kissed my cheek. “We should have told you father.”

  “Told me what?”

  “That Aiden and I have lain together.”

  “But I thought Angharad told you that you would lose your powers.”

  Aiden said, “She was foresworn, Jarl. Kara is more powerful now than ever.”

  I stared at my daughter, She looked different somehow. “Is this true?”

  “My mother became more powerful when she married you and carried my brother did she not?”

  I nodded, “Yes but…” Then I saw what was different. “You are…?”

  “Yes father I am with child. Aiden is the father. Our child,” she placed her hands on her womb, “is already becoming powerful within me. She will be a volva with such power that we know not what she will be capable of.”

  “It is a girl?”

  They both nodded. “It is a girl.”

  Aiden said, “Forgive me for not speaking before, Jarl. It just, well it just happened.”

  Kara held his right hand in her two. “It was wyrd. We were in the sweat hut. Mother told us that it was meant to be. Aiden wanted to tell you immediately but you were preoccupied with our enemies and you had your journey below the sea before you.”

  “You knew that I would have to descend below the ocean?”

  “I dreamed. Mother told me you would be safe.” I saw in her eyes that she sought approval. “You are not unhappy are you?”

  I realised that my face must have been serious. I smiled, “I am sorry. Of course I am happy. Aiden has always been as a son to me and now he is. Will you two be wed?”

  “There may be a time for that. We will dream. Perhaps the spirits will tell us.”

  I smiled, “I think that this is one decision that I will make. You will be wed at Yule on the first day o
f the new year. I do not issue many commands but this one I shall. It is the will of jarl Dragonheart that you be married.”

  They looked at each other and nodded. Kara came and hugged me. “And who are we to argue with the Viking legend that is Jarl Dragonheart.”

  The End

  Glossary

  Afon Hafron- River Severn in Welsh

  Alpín mac Echdach – the father of Kenneth MacAlpin, reputedly the first king of the Scots

  Alt Clut- Dumbarton Castle on the Clyde

  Bardanes Tourkos- Rebel Byzantine General

  Bebbanburgh- Bamburgh Castle, Northumbria

  Beck- a stream

  Blót – a blood sacrifice made by a jarl

  Blue Sea- The Mediterranean

  Bondi- Viking farmers who fight

  Bourde- Bordeaux

  Bjarnarøy –Great Bernera (Bear island)

  Byrnie- a mail or leather shirt reaching down to the knees

  Caerlleon- Welsh for Chester

  Caestir - Chester (old English)

  Casnewydd –Newport, Wales

  Cephas- Greek for Simon Peter (St. Peter)

  Chape- the tip of a scabbard

  Charlemagne- Holy Roman Emperor at the end of the 8th and beginning of the 9th centuries

  Celchyth- Chelsea

  Cherestanc- Garstang (Lancashire)

  Corn Walum- Cornwall

  Cymri- Welsh

  Cymru- Wales

  Cyninges-tūn – Coniston. It means the estate of the king (Cumbria)

  Dùn Èideann –Edinburgh (Gaelic)

  Din Guardi- Bamburgh castle

  Drekar- a Dragon ship (a Viking warship)