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  I went with the blow and rolled. As I came up I saw him try to reach me. “You trickster! Loki’s spawn!”

  He would not be able to strike me. His trailing mail and his damaged knee slowed him down and I was able to rise. My roll had taken us away from the others. We fought on a piece of green sward. I saw that it was spotted with darker patches. Harald the Great was leaving a trail of blood with each step he took. I balanced on the balls of my feet. I was tiring but I had the ability to move. He did not. The trailing mail was like a sea anchor. I went on the offensive. I swung my sword not at his shield but at his sword. He tried to counter with both his sword and his shield. I was on the balls of my feet and my left hand darted forward. Wolf’s Blood’s tip touched his mail and I drove it hard. With our swords locked our faces were close. I saw, in his eyes, fear. I pushed hard, as I had done with the warrior with the black teeth. I twisted as I felt flesh. Harald tried to spring back. He tripped over his mail and fell. Blood was now pouring from his knee and from his side.

  Standing over him I put my left foot on his right hand and the tip of Ragnar’s Spirit at his throat. “The only empire you have is this patch of earth. I will leave your body here when I have killed you. The birds will peck away your flesh and the foxes will feast on your innards.”

  He tried to nod, “I will see you in the Otherworld, Jarl Dragonheart!”

  I pushed my sword hard and Harald the Great died.

  Chapter 17

  I sank wearily to my knees and began wiping the blood from my sword using Harald’s kyrtle. When I looked up I saw that it was over. Darkness had fallen. Ragnar and Haaken came over to me. “Jarl Dragonheart, are you hurt?”

  “No, Ragnar, I am whole and Harald the Great is dead.” Haaken put out his arm and helped me to my feet.

  The other Ulfheonar and the survivors from Ragnar’s men joined us. There were not many. Olaf Leather Neck shook his head, “We have lost Ulfheonar this day, Jarl Dragonheart. Leif the Banner, Karl Karlsson and Erik Bjornson will follow you no longer.”

  Erik had been the son of Bjorn who had been one of the first Ulfheonar. Leif had carried my standard before he had become Ulfheonar. These men could not be replaced.

  Ragnar said, “And I have but three warriors left to me. War is an expensive business, Jarl Dragonheart. The payment is not in gold but in blood.”

  “Aye and when we meet them in the Otherworld we will thank them for their sacrifice.”

  It was now dark. Haaken said, “I think it best we sleep here, Jarl Dragonheart. There may be others from their band. And besides we could bury our dead. This would be a good place.”

  “You are right. Ragnar, have your men light a fire.” I took off my helmet and laid it down. I walked to the bodies of the enemy dead. Taking an axe from one of them I began to hack away the turf to make the outline of the grave. My other warriors helped me and soon we had a grave for our three Ulfheonar and the other six who had died. As the fire took hold we had better light. There were stones in the ground and we removed them and put them to one side. When the soil had been removed to make a hole deep enough for them we laid them in it. Each warrior was dressed for war. We killed their swords by twisting them and laid them on their bodies. We began to pile the soil back on top and then the stones we had removed and others we had found. Finally, we re-laid the turf I had cut.

  That done and weary beyond words we stood around the grave. “Allfather take our comrades to your halls in Valhalla. They deserve to sit high at your table for they fought against great odds. They will have great stories to tell you and we will remember them.”

  Ragnar said, as we laid out our cloaks, “I have had my men collect the weapons and the mail.”

  “Good you have learned much, I think, from this war with Harald and his band.”

  “I have. I will not fear fighting Saxons and Hibernians now. Tell me, grandfather, how do you get used to men fighting and dying for you? I have lost many men since I had my first hearth weru. My father’s men are now all dead and I have lost more since. It makes my heart ache.”

  “The sad answer, Ragnar, is that you do not get used to it. Haaken One Eye and I have buried more men than I care to think about and yet we still live. I have to believe that they died for a reason and the Allfather has a purpose for me.” I waved a hand around me. “I had thought I had finished fighting here in Man and yet Harald the Great dragged me back here. We do not govern our own lives we just do what we believe is right. If men follow us, then that is their choice. We do not direct their feet.”

  I lay down and Haaken’s voice sounded from the dark. “Ragnar, the men who died for you will not be waiting in the Otherworld with accusations and frowns. They will greet you with praise and joy. You live and they have done their duty. They promised to fight for you and, if necessary, die. Do not make their sacrifice in vain. Learn, as your grandfather has, how to make sure you lose fewer men next time we fight.”

  I slept. My sleep was filled with the dead. I saw their faces and I heard their voices. We slept in a graveyard and the spirits of the dead were all around us. I know that Leif, Karl and Erik kept guard. We needed no sentries and we were not disturbed.

  I was awoken before dawn by the sound of scurrying. I stirred the fire into life and took a brand. As I approached the enemy dead, rats and foxes fled into the dark. The dead had been our enemies but they did not deserve to have their bodies despoiled. While the others slept, I collected more wood. As dawn broke and the others woke, they saw what I was doing and joined me. Soon we had enough wood to make a pyre. We built it close to our fire and when it was laid we placed the enemy dead upon it. I put Harald last. He had been their leader. Then we dragged burning and glowing embers from our fire to ignite the pyre and soon a pall of smoke rose up into the morning sky.

  We had a great quantity of swords and mail. Bagsecg would be able to use it. I wondered how we would get it back when Aðils shouted, “Riders coming!”

  I donned my helmet and unsheathed my sword. To my relief, it was Erik Ironshirt and the Angry Cubs. He threw himself from his horse and I sheathed my weapon. “Jarl Dragonheart, we wondered what had happened to you. Raibeart and Asbjorn have had men searching for you all night. We saw the smoke and came to investigate.”

  I pointed to the pyre, “You and your men can rest now. Harald the Great and his men are there and their spirits are gone. We will march back to Duboglassio.”

  “Take our horses and we will walk.”

  I shook my head. “I would have you ride west to the port. There will be people there and a boat. Fetch any you find back to Duboglassio and the mail and the swords. Are there any of Harald’s men left?”

  “Ulf Olafsson hunts them.”

  “Then be careful. There may be warriors in the port but I doubt it.”

  As they galloped west, we marched east. It was over or nearly over, at least. There were still some unfinished elements. We saw the smoke from the funeral pyres at Duboglassio as we neared it. Our men would have a barrow but the enemy would have a blackened piece of earth to show their final resting place. If you won you were remembered. If you lost, then you became blackened dust.

  The wounded were in the warrior hall. I saw that Ketil lived but he looked weak. All faces turned as we entered. “Harald is dead. Are any of his men still alive here?”

  Ketil raised himself on one elbow, “All were slain. We gave the wounded a warrior’s death. I had my men burn their dead and bury our own. They are loading the drekar. Ulf, Raibeart, Erik and Asbjorn are scouring the island.”

  “I know. We met Erik Ironshirt. When they return, we will leave. I hope this is the last time we have to visit this island. I have left three Ulfheonar here.”

  Ketil nodded, “And I have lost heart weru. This island should be called the Island of Viking Blood for the very ground upon which we walk is covered in it. I will be glad to get back to my fortress in the sky. This feels like a charnel house; a place of death.”

  I returned to my drekar and c
hanged from my mail. I would not need to fight again and the last three days had taken much out of me. Erik Short Toe was sad about my three dead Ulfheonar. They had sailed with him many times. They were close to him too.

  Raibeart returned first, “The north is clear of the enemy, Jarl Dragonheart. We caught the last of them on Snaefell. We slew them all. We brought their mail and swords.

  Ulf and Asbjorn arrived next. “We went to Balley Chashtal. Men took to the walls but there were too few of them to defend it all. We burned it and them. I am sorry we did not bring back more treasure, Jarl Dragonheart.”

  “We have treasure enough. It is men who are more valuable than mail and you have returned with all that you took. It is wyrd . As soon as Erik Ironshirt returns from the west then we will sail.”

  We loaded the drekar with the treasure and the wounded. I had decided that we would all sail back together. Beorn came to the drekar. “Erik Ironshirt approaches Jarl Dragonheart.”

  “Good. We can return home for I am anxious to see how my son fares.”

  We went back to the warrior hall. Duboglassio had been badly damaged. Half of the walls had been burned down and many of the buildings too. I would not destroy it. I did not need to. It could not be repaired. If any sought to use it they would have to demolish its ruins and begin again. I would leave it as a warning for those who sought to use it against me.

  Erik Ironshirt, Gunnar Longsword and Arne the Grim rode at the front of the column of men. The rest were leading horses laden with mail and weapons. Erik had a strange look on his face. He had an expression like a dog who has just managed to steal a juicy piece of meat from the pot. He had a rope in his hand. He pulled it as did Arne who also pulled something behind him. Two people were hurled to land at my feet. It was Wighlek and Vibeke.

  Erik said, “You were right Jarl. there were people waiting. These two. There was a damaged knarr and they were trying to repair it. We burned it.”

  Wighlek looked up at me, “Thank the Allfather it is you, Jarl Dragonheart. You know that we are your friends. Tell this man he is wrong. We were held prisoner by this Harald the Great. We tried to escape to warn you.”

  I nodded but I could see my men reaching for their swords. “Truly? Is this true, Vibeke? Would you swear it?”

  “My husband speaks true. Your wife knows that we only have your best interests at heart.”

  “Answer me. Would you swear it?”

  “I swear that we mean you no harm.”

  I laughed, “You truly are remarkable. Every man here knows the treachery which is in your hearts. Every man here would happily tear you limb from limb for what you did to my people and yet you plead for mercy and try to pretend that you did no wrong. You truly are evil.” I turned to Ragnar. “Climb atop the warrior hall and wait there.”

  “Aye Jarl.” Using the back of one of the horses he climbed up onto the roof and waved.

  “Erik, take the ropes from around their wrists.” He frowned but obeyed. Wighlek and Vibeke stood. Gratitude was written on their faces. “Fetch them to the hall and tie their hands behind their backs. Asbjorn and Raibeart, bring the two ropes. Throw one end of each to Ragnar.”

  I now had all but Haaken confused. They could not see what I intended. When Ragnar had the two ropes I said, “Throw one end of each down the two sides of the hall.”

  When that was done, I waved him down. He said, “What do you do, Jarl Dragonheart?”

  “I punish those who betrayed us.”

  “The Blood Eagle?”

  “No. We do not need to do that. Raibeart and Asbjorn, your people suffered most at the hands of these two. Choose four others and you shall administer the punishment. Erik Ironshirt, take each rope and make a noose. Put them about their necks.”

  They now knew what I was going to do to them. Vibeke reached under the folds of her dress and pulled out a cross, “Jarl, I am a Christian, like your wife! You cannot kill me!”

  Erik reached in and pulled out Thor’s hammer from around the woman’s neck. “You are a liar.” He tore the two of them from her neck. Arne did the same for Wighlek.

  I shouted, “Raibeart, Asbjorn, now is your time.”

  My men knew what they were doing. They did not jerk the rope they pulled slowly and steadily. Wighlek and Vibeke wriggled and they twisted. Their eyes bulged. They choked. When their heads were just below the roof Erik shouted, “Hold!”

  I heard the sound of hammering as the ropes were tethered to the ground and then the executioners came around to watch Wighlek and Vibeke slowly choke to death. They came in time to see both of them wet themselves; the pungent urine puddled at their feet. They twisted and turned but still they did not die. Wighlek died first. He was heavier than his wife. His bowels opened and he stopped moving. Vibeke lasted a few moment’s longer. She tied to fix me with her eye. No doubt she was trying to curse me but her twisting meant she could not. She, too, emptied her bowels, stopped moving and she died.

  “Leave them there. We can go home now.”

  We set sail as the sun set over the island. The island itself seemed to be on fire. Rooks and crows rose from the feast they had made on Snaefell’s slopes. They would leave the rest of the feast for the foxes and the rats. Others would come to Man but it would not be for some time. When they did come there would be ghosts to exorcise and homes to build. I doubted I would see it in my lifetime.

  Haaken sang. It was a song about him and about me but it was right that he did for we were the start of our story and would be the end.

  From mountain high in the land of snow

  Garth the slave began to grow

  He changed with Ragnar when they lived alone

  Warrior skills did Ragnar hone

  The Dragonheart was born of cold

  Fighting wolves a warrior bold

  The Dragonheart and Haaken Brave

  A Viking warrior and a Saxon slave

  When Vikings came he held the wall

  He feared no foe however tall

  Back to back with brave

  A Viking warrior and a Saxon slave

  When the battle was done

  They stood alone

  With their vanquished foes

  Lying at their toes

  The Dragonheart and Haaken Brave

  A Viking warrior and a Saxon slave

  The Dragonheart and Haaken Brave

  A Viking warrior and a Saxon slave

  We reached Whale Island just after dawn. We had not rushed. There was no need. We could not fully man every drekar. Many of the ones who had rowed us there now lay dead on the Isle that was Man. I allowed the other two to land first. As we stepped ashore I felt weary. I headed with Ragnar to the warrior hall. Aiden was a good healer but I was anxious to see my son.

  It was Aiden who met me at the door. “Wighlek and Vibeke are dead.” He said it as a statement. He knew before I spoke.

  “Aye. Did you dream it?”

  “Snorri’s spirit came in the night.” He looked at Ragnar and smiled, “You should go and see to your wife.”

  Ragnar looked worried, “She is ill?”

  “No but she has news.” As he rushed to his hall Aiden said, “You are to be a great grandfather! She is with child.”

  Suddenly my spirits lifted. He took me to the warrior hall. Gruffyd lay there. His face was heavily bandaged. Aiden said, “The stitches are small and there will not be much of a scar. He would have met you at the quay but he also twisted his knee. It is healing.”

  He opened his eyes when he heard Aiden’s voice and he smiled when he saw me. “How is Ragnar, father?”

  “He is well but you both lost warriors. We have mail we captured. When you choose more warriors, they will be well equipped.”

  “And I have learned much from these last weeks. I will be a better warrior now. I understand why you did not risk us in the front rank. We were not ready but one day we will be.”

  “Good. We will return home tomorrow. I have no doubt that I will be in trouble with your
mother for the wound.”

  “We can take the bandages off before we go, Jarl Dragonheart. The poultice will have drawn all the poison from the wound.”

  I turned to leave, “Where is your sister, Gruffyd?”

  He and Aiden exchanged a guilty look. He said, “She will be in the garden which Astrid planted. She is often there.”

  Aiden said, “Jarl Dragonheart, use your head before you speak. Listen first.”

  I did not know what he meant. When I reached the garden I realised. Erika was walking amongst the newly planted fruit trees and herbs. She was holding hands with Thorghest.

  “Erika!”

  They both turned and looked at me. Erika rushed to me and threw her arms around me. “Father! You live! And Ragnar?”

  “He is fine.” I moved my daughter to one side. “Thorghest; what means this?”

  He dropped to one knee. “Forgive me, Jarl Dragonheart. I did not plan this. I would have spoken to you but…”

  Erika said, “We are to be married. This is the warrior I choose and he chooses me. I nursed him and he was gentle.” She smiled. “He reminds me of you.” She reached down to hold the warrior’s hand.

  I looked from one to the other. There was no deceit in Thorghest’s eyes. He cared for my daughter. “What will your mother say?”

  Helping Thorghest to his feet she said lightly, “Oh she will hate it but then she would hate any man I brought home. I know what I am doing, father. This may seem rushed but it feels right. When I slept, two nights ago, a spirit came to me. She was dressed in white and she spoke one word to me, ‘wyrd ’.”

  I nodded, “It was Erika, my wife after whom you are named.”

  “That is what Aiden said.”

  “Then tomorrow we will go home and we will beard the dragon in her den.”

  The column which headed to Cyninges-tūn was a long one. It snaked along the greenway. We had wounded on litters and treasure with us. Those who lived along the way came out to greet us and ask us of our news. When we told them of our dead they touched the tokens they wore about their necks. They knew the sacrifice was for them. They were safe because my men had died. I knew that it would spread ahead of us. Haaken left us for he had news to take to his wife. Yngvild was with child too. Astrid and she would have children born in the same year. It was wyrd .