Viking Wolf Page 3

  They saw the wisdom in the decision but they did not approve. They all wished to come.

  Later that night I took out the letter and map again.

  I write this record knowing that my death is close at hand. I have served my masters well: I devoted my life to God, I helped King Coel and King Urien to protect the frontier and I kept alive the Roman ways. I have done my duty.

  The barbarians are coming and I fear that the Warlord will not be able to hold them back forever. I believe with all my heart that there will come a hero as Lann of Stanwyck came from obscurity to hold back the Angles and the Saxons. It will not be in my lifetime.

  To that end I have hidden the treasure of Rheged in the old Roman fortress of Luguvalium. The map will help someone to find it. I believe that God will direct some unborn hand to this end. I have buried it with St. Brigid’s hand and ring as a way of telling the finder of the treasure. If the hand is not with this map then the barbarians have won and the treasure of Rheged is lost forever. The priests in this church know not what I do and when I return north they will still be none the wiser.

  The true hero will be from the same stock as Lann of Stanwyck and, in him, is the hope for Britannia.

  I go to God with a clear conscience,

  Osric of Rheged

  The map would only help me when I found the Roman fort. If truth be told it had been on my mind for some time. This was a quest into the unknown. No-one had been further north than the Grassy Mere. There were two passes further north and our scouts had stopped at both of them. We would be treading new paths.

  As we climbed over the col at Rye Dale we saw Windar’s men already at work repairing the winter damage. We waved as we headed into the unknown.

  We had two ponies with our supplies. The Ulfheonar I had chosen were Haaken, Cnut, Beorn Three Fingers, Snorri,Harald Green Eye, Tostig, Erik the Tall, Thorkell the Tall, Sigtrygg Thrandson and Arturus Wolf Killer. Arturus was not yet a true Ulfheonar. We had not had the initiation ceremony but I could not leave him at home. Sigtrygg was the newest member of my oathsworn and he had been a refugee from Audun’ston. His father had been headman and he had died at the hands of the Saxons. His son wielded a mighty sword called Saxon Killer and he was already held in high esteem by my warriors.

  We travelled the old Roman Road. It had fallen into disrepair but we knew it would lead us to the Roman Fort we sought. When we passed Grassy Mere we halted to view the land to the south. “This would make a fine settlement.”

  “Aye Dragon Heart but for that we need more people.”

  Haaken laughed, “Well I am doing my best, Beorn Three Fingers. I have one son already and my lady is with child already. Dragon Heart here has sired two and another will be born before summer. It is about time you began to become a warrior in the bedroom too!”

  Everyone laughed for Beorn was known to be shy around women.

  “It is good to know that we have land and room to grow. It is why Prince Butar brought us west.”

  We dropped down the rise and headed north. “Aye, he would have loved this land.”

  Prince Butar had seen the land and knew that it promised much but he had been treacherously slain. I missed him still.

  The land opened up and we saw the next hills rise like a wall in the distance. “Look my lord.”

  I followed Snorri’s finger and saw, perched precariously on the sides of the hills little white dots. They were sheep and they had lambed. “You have good eyes Snorri. When we have this treasure we will gather those animals and begin to restock our fields.”

  We camped in a narrow valley with a small stream which bubbled close by. Snorri and Arturus went hunting while we made crude shelters and prepared food. The four pigeons augmented the stew of dried meat quite well. Thorkell the Tall found some wild garlic and thyme while Sigtrygg found some early mushrooms. We ate well. Normally we did not eat as well as this. I can still remember sucking on some dried meat for a whole day while at sea. We learned to take pleasure when we could.

  Before we turned in for the night Haaken told some of the tales of Ulfheonar now dead. My dreams that night were of battles past and fallen brothers. It was a ritual which kept alive the dead.

  We left the hills and headed across a fertile land. We became more wary for we could see in the distance the tell tale smoke rising from homes and farms. They were the first we had seen since leaving the Rye Dale. There were people. We knew not if they were hostile or friendly. Arturus sent Wolf ahead. He would alert us to any danger. We reached the settlement in the late afternoon. It straddled the road. There was no palisade but it looked to have thirty or so huts. I assumed our destination was beyond this. The Roman forts we had seen had all been made of stone. They had ditches and stood proud in the landscape. These were primitive huts. Our halls were superior in every way.

  “We will skirt the village.”

  “That will add time to our journey.”

  “You have somewhere else to go Arturus Wolf Killer?”

  My son blushed and my men laughed. We used the woods and hedges to move unseen around the village. When we heard anyone we halted and so we reached the river without being spotted. It was getting dark when we headed east towards the fort we assumed would be close to the river. Aiden had spent some time studying the maps we had found and he had given me a good idea of where we might find the fort.

  Knowing that the village was less than two miles away we camped without a fire close to the river. It was a damp cold night and none of us slept well. When we rose we found a misty morning. We could not even see the river which we knew was but twenty paces to our right.

  We made our way along the river bank with drawn weapons. We sought stone. Stone meant Rome and Rome meant the fort was not far away. It was Wolf who found it. He ran back to Arturus and he led us to the stone wall which went from the half destroyed bridge to the gate of the fort. It was obvious that this had seen battles. The marks of weapons still scored the walls. I took out the map. The river and the bridge were marked. I waved us forward. Haaken and Cnut brought up the rear while Snorri and Sigtrygg led the way.

  The gates were torn from their mountings and lay discarded in the ditch. Inside we could see that many of the stones had been looted but the buildings still retained their shape. I pointed to a building. “That looks like it. Two of you watch this gate and another two the far gate.” I knew all would wish to be there when we uncovered this treasure but they obeyed.

  The room we sought was a side one off from a large room. Having found the hidden door in the chapel before we knew what we were looking for. There was a stone in the floor of the room with a dirty line towards one end. I gave the map to my son and knelt down. Taking my dagger out, I scraped away the dirt and dust of ages and found the metal handle which I prised up. It resisted but after some gentle coaxing popped up. I sheathed my dagger and took hold of the metal. I pulled. Haaken and Cnut put their daggers under the sides and slowly but surely the stone began to rise.

  When the stone was removed we saw a black hole. Once again we remembered the chapel and I put my hand into the void. I felt around until I found a chest. This was a larger one that the one we had found in the church. I needed two hands to raise it. It felt much heavier too and I struggled to lift it. Cnut aided me and the well made chest was carefully hoisted from its tomb.

  I tried the top and it was locked. I lay down again and felt around. I felt nothing for a while and then, suddenly my fingers brushed something small and hard. I put my hand around and pulled it out. Regardless of what we found in the chest what I held in my hands was a worthy treasure. It was the scabbard of a sword and it was exquisitely decorated. What made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end was the decoration. It was the same as that on the sword we had found in the land of the Cymri. This was the scabbard for the sword we had found in the cave!

  “Replace the stone. I would not have these people know that there may be such treasures here.”

  Chapter 3

  “So
meone is coming- at the southern gate!”

  Tostig’s urgent call meant we would have to wait to open the chest. “Let us move!”

  We sped back across the parade ground to the northern gate and fled back to the river. Pausing only to fasten the chest securely to the back of one of the beasts we moved swiftly east. I had no idea if the people hereabouts were friendly or not. I assumed they would be as we would be and ‘act first, ask questions second’.

  “Snorri take the rear. Beorn and Arturus take the point.”

  I was pleased to see that every warrior had a weapon in his hand. I led one of the ponies while Cnut led the other. We had no armour with us and just four shields on the ponies. If this came to fighting then we would have to rely on bows and swords. We made our way back around the settlement. Each step brought us closer to safety and, ironically, closer to the danger. I would not be happy until we saw the hills of our home. This flat land was dangerous.

  We reached our camp from the previous night before dark. This time we did not just slump down and relax. Thorkell the Tall and Tostig went back up the Roman Road and laid some traps. They were simple alarms but they would alert us to an enemy. While Haaken prepared some food, albeit cold, the rest of us rigged deadfalls and trips amongst the bushes. Again they would not stop anyone but we would know of their presence.

  When I was satisfied we went to the cold camp and ate our wild garlic and dried wolf. It was not very appetising but it filled a hole, as my mother might have said. The nearby stream provided water which was refreshing if a little metallic in taste. The rest of my men all stared at the box while Arturus admired the scabbard.

  “This is wyrd father. How did the Romans have the scabbard?”

  “They may not have done. The man who wrote on the parchment talked of a Lord Lann and that does not sound Roman. We will have to speak with Deidra and Macha when we return home. They may be able to shed light. I am pleased now that Bjorn Bagsecgson has repaired the blade and I am even more determined now to discover the stones to complete its renovation.”

  “Are you not going to open the chest, Dragon Heart?”

  “No, Haaken. It is secure now and we may have to move quickly. We have waited long enough to find the chest, a couple more days will not hurt.” I smiled for Haaken was just desperate to conjure another story from the myth of the sword and the scabbard. He hoped there would be another treasure within the chest which would astound his listeners. He revelled in the gasps of awe when he told his stories and revealed secrets hidden for years.

  “We watch tonight. Two men on and eight off. One hour and we change.”

  It was a tried and trusted method. Aiden had taught us all how to count to four thousand we estimated that to be an hour. It meant we all got some sleep and those awake had something to keep themselves occupied as they counted. It did not matter if we made a mistake so long as we reached four or five thousand.

  Arturus and I were woken by Haaken and Cnut. I had said we would take the middle watch. It meant the least sleep but it was my way. I would not shirk a duty and nor would my son. We also had the advantage that Wolf watched with us and his ears were worth two men at least.

  Arturus went to speak and I put my finger to my lips. There were two reasons: one I did not want to disturb the sleep of my comrades and secondly it prevented you hearing the night. I listened to the movement of small animals through the undergrowth. The swoop of an owl as it plucked a mouse from the ground. The snuffling of a hedgehog as it ate its way through the slugs and snails. They were all comforting sounds in the night. And then came the most deadly of sounds, silence. It was followed by confirmation; a low almost imperceptible growl from Wolf. There were humans and they were close.

  I tapped Arturus on the shoulder and drew my sword silently. I gestured to the ponies. He would secure and then saddle them. I shook Haaken and Cnut. Having just been on duty they would know it was danger. I then walked to the road and listened. The silence was too complete. Someone was out there. I heard the noise of a branch trap being released. There was a slight groan. They were to the east of us.

  My Ulfheonar were awake and armed. I glanced around and saw that Arturus had saddled one pony and fitted the chest. He was working on the second. Wolf suddenly darted forward and disappeared. I heard a cry as he sank his teeth into the leg of an intruder.

  We remained still. The night visitors realised that they had been spotted and they burst towards us. Our stillness meant that we were invisible. I saw a half naked warrior with spiky hair and a spear charge into the camp. I crouched and swept my sword horizontally. It ripped open his naked middle and he fell dead at my feet. I heard cries from my right as my men killed and wounded others but I kept my eyes to the front. Another warrior, this time with a shield and a small war axe lunged at me. I grabbed the haft of his axe as it plunged towards my head and pulled him off balance. I thrust the tip of my sword under his arm and it emerged at his neck. And then there was silence or almost silence for I could hear the death rattle from some of those who had not gone to the Otherworld straight away.

  I spun around and counted my men. “Arturus the pony with the chest. Tostig, the other pony. Snorri, scout. Head south.”

  With those three away to safety we checked who we had been fighting. They were not Saxons. Their weapons were crudely made and they had no armour. Sigtrygg said, “They are from the north. These are the ones they call Picts or perhaps from Dál Raida. They are savages.”

  “They are dead savages now.”

  “I think we have accounted for them all let us go.”

  We moved quickly until we caught up with the others. Dawn saw us amongst the hills. Cnut was not happy that we were taking the road. “We might as well have drawn a map for them to follow.”

  Haaken shook his head, “How do you know that we are being followed?”

  “We killed too many back there. They will want to avenge their dead.”

  “Cnut is right and besides we can use this opportunity to see more parts of this land. We will head south west towards those high peaks. Unless I miss my guess it will bring us out close to Lang’s Dale.”

  I was their jarl and they obeyed. We left the road and Snorri disguised our path. The going was no different for a while. We were travelling along the flat lands of a river bottom but then we began to climb. Our journey became more difficult. It was little more than a sheep’s track we followed but it wound in the direction we wanted. We saw a huge body of water below us. It was almost as big as Windar’s Mere. This land was a land of mountains and water. As we climbed we saw, far behind, the Roman Road and, to my dismay, warriors upon it. There appeared to be twenty or so and they had two horses.

  I was not certain if we had been seen and so I ordered the men to drop down from the skyline. Our pace was more urgent now; we needed to hurry. Had we not been Ulfheonar I am not sure that we would have made it. The land became wilder and wilder. There were few trees. If someone could get above us then we would have no place to hide. We ascended a ridge and saw before us the most beautiful mere I have ever seen. The mountains along the side reminded me of the Old Man who watched over Cyninges-tūn but that was not what made me stop and start. The reflection of the mountains in the water and the sun dipping in the west made it look like my step father.

  “Look yonder men, it is Butar’s Mere.”

  Strangely that gave us all hope. Butar would watch over us. When we dropped down the next ridge and the mere was hidden from view I stopped. “Enough. We are Ulfheonar. We will wait here and destroy these barbarians. I have run enough.”

  The smiles on my warrior’s faces told me I had made the correct decision. Snorri grinned, “I am the youngest. I will run back and scout them out. They may have given up.”

  Arturus said, “No, I am the youngest so I will come with you!” I was as proud of my son that day as any day.

  They disappeared and Haaken went to the saddle bags. “Then let us eat while we may.”

  We prepared for battle.
I took the whetstone and put an edge on Ragnar’s Spirit. It had tasted blood already and would not be as sharp as it had been. I did the same with my dagger.

  Haaken brought over some food for us. It was still the cold, dried wolf meat and we all chewed to make our bodies think they were being fed something which was worth eating. It also gave us something to do. Before we fought we each had an energy within which needed an outlet.

  “Tostig, take the ponies a little lower down the slope and tether them. I do not want them to run when the fighting begins.”

  As he did so Cnut pointed to a tumble of rocks close to the top of the ridge. We had passed beneath them when we had crested the rise. “That would make a good place for an ambush.”

  “Aye it would. Haaken and Tostig can be here with me. The rest hide in the rocks with Cnut. When they reach the top they will see the three of us and think we are easy prey.”

  I knew they would not like to see me tethered like a goat but I was jarl. Tostig returned and stood with Haaken and me as the rest hid themselves in the rocks. Those with bows and spears readied them.

  Snorri and Arturus burst over the ridge. “They are behind us. There are two warriors on horses. They both have helmets, shields and spears. There are twenty warriors with them.”

  “Good. Go to the rocks with the others. Cnut commands.”

  Arturus looked as though he would argue. Snorri patted him on the back. “Come, scout, and bring your dog. We obey the jarl.”

  They disappeared in the rocks. I knew where they were but I could not see them. Our pursuers would have the same problem.

  The two horsemen appeared on the ridge which soon filled with the barbarians. The horses were really large ponies and the warrior’s feet almost touched the ground. The leader shouted something in a language I had never heard. It did not matter what he said. I knew what he would do. He would charge us hoping that the three of us would flinch at a pair of armed horsemen. His men would follow ready to finish off any survivors.