Quest for Vengeance

By Tom Caine

It is autumn. The year is 880, two years after King Alfreds famous victory over the great heathen army at Edington, which had been led by Jarl Guthrum.

Until the formal peace treaty is ratified, there remains an uneasy peace between what remains of Mercia and the Saxon Christian kingdom of Wessex and the northeastern part of Mercia and East Anglia, now known as the Danelaw. It is ruled by Guthrum who, on becoming a Christian, is now known as King thelstan.

Constant raiding and fighting along the unratified borders has left England in turmoil, even with the uneasy peace between Alfreds Wessex and Guthrums Danelaw.

Raiding by Norse Vikings is still continuing all along the coast of Wessex, and King Alfred has started to protect his kingdom by building fortified buhrs across his lands and building his own navy.

Wulfric has survived a terrible battle, along with his friend Alrik and their companions, which was fought against Lord Ragnarson and his invading army, which was defeated at great cost, close to the estuary of the River Afen in Wessex.

Bruised and battered, Wulfric visits the battlefield the following day in search of Ragnarsons mighty war axe where he is confronted by Lord Cenric, whom he slays in single combat among the corpse-covered dunes in a magnificent display of skill and with Ragnarsons own axe, a brei-x. His victory over Lord Cenric has now added considerably to his growing reputation.

A few months later, Wulfric married Alriks sister, the Norse shield maiden and vlva, Freyja, who has remained behind at Kelton Hall while Wulfric leaves upon his quest for vengeance.

He is on his way to Norvegr in his new longship, Harrvaldr, and accompanied by his friend Alrik and their companions and warriors.

Alriks longship, Svanr, has been separated from Harrvaldr in a terrible storm and Wulfric is worried about Alrik and his crew as he continues on his way to Holmslatr in Norvegr.
He finds himself once more in the midst of battle and fighting for his life against an lfhnar, one of the legendary beserkers.

It is just the beginning of another ordeal-filled adventure, which takes the young Saxon lord from the cold fjords of Norvegr to the far north of Breoton, to Noranhymbra and to the aid of Mg Grll and his daughter Morgna, who are leading a deadly revolt against the Danes!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: May 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543407334

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Tom Caine.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/20/2018

Xlibris

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

767562

Contents

Place Names

Chapter 1 - SKALAVIK

Chapter 2 - KELTON HALL

Chapter 3 - NORÞANHYMBRA

Chapter 4 - JORVIK

Chapter 5 - THE VALLEY

Chapter 6 - GOÐROÐR’S GOLD

Chapter 7 - JARL ÆSKIL

Chapter 8 - WULFRIC’S AMBUSH

Chapter 9 - SNÆKOL’S FURY

Chapter 10 - LEOFRIC’S RETURN

Chapter 11 - THE SECRET COVE

Chapter 12 - THE OMEN

62205.jpg

Place Names

62209.jpg62205.jpg

SKALAVIK

62209.jpg

T HE STORM HAD been raging for more than two days, and we had lost sight of Alrik’s longship Svanr on the very first day. The sun had disappeared and our world had become a dark and terrifiying place as the storm raged. Visibility had been reduced to less than a spear throw, and the rain was slashing down on us like an arrow storm, relentless and without pity. The sea had turned itself into a menacing, dark green-and-grey monster, which loomed and towered over us! The huge waves were capped with white foaming fangs, which continuously wanted to tear us apart! But at the very last moment, when all seemed lost, they would drive our longship along with them, lifting it as if it were little more than a twig in their massive rolling embrace, and then hurl us down into the dark depths of a trough, to begin the whole process over and over a gain.

The dragon ship that we were sailing in had been selected for me by my friend Alrik; he had chosen it from among the near three score which had been abandoned after the great battle against Lord Ragnarson’s invading army near the Afen estuary, in my homeland of Wessex.

The battle, which had taken place almost three months before, had left Lord Ragnarson’s invading army decimated, on the landing ground! And as a result, I was now the commander and proud owner of this beautiful, sleek fighting ship; she was perfectly built for the conditions that she was now sailing in, and seemed almost to revel in them.

I had given her a Norse name to honour my friend and also to disguise the fact that a third of her crew were Saxons. The carved head of a snarling wolf also adorned the stem-post, which is why I had named my longship Harrvaldr, sea wolf, also a play on my own name Wulfric, son of Lord Hrothwulf of Kelton.

Alrik had asked Arnkell to captain Harrvaldr, not just because of his years of experience, but also because of his great knowledge of the Northern and Norvegr seas, and the Western Isles. He had once told me that he had sailed to a land of fire and ice, far to the north-west, a hard and magical place, but being a Saxon from the kingdom of Wessex far away to the south, I had little understanding or knowledge of what he was talking about. But his stories fired my imagination, and I wondered if I would ever visit and see such places.

If only we had known what lay ahead, when we first set out on our quest for Bjorn Bloodaxe, and what a twisted web of intrigue and violence the Nornir had already spun for us, a web which was to determine all of our fates and shape our destinies, one which we were already caught up in, even if we didn’t know it at the time. But even if we had, it would have made little difference; our quest for vengeance was all we could see, and nothing else mattered.

Arnkell was standing at the steer board, trying to control Harrvaldr as she rose with the monstrous waves and then dove down into the troughs, as if seeking a final and lasting embrace from Njörðr, god of the sea, and the wind.

‘By the gods, this is a cursed storm! Have you any idea where we are, Arnkell?’

‘If I had to guess, Wulfric, I would hope that we are just to the north-east of Orkneyjar, but that is as much as I can tell you. Until this storm clears, we are in the hands of the gods.’

‘Let’s pray that Ran will keep us safe, then, Arnkell.’

‘She is the goddess of the sea, Wulfric! If she can’t, then we are truly doomed. But you need not worry, we have sailed in worse storms than this, and we are far enough from land that we don’t need to worry about being driven on to rocks. I am more concerned about being pushed too far to the north, it will cost us time. And if Bjorn has returned to Skalavik, then the sooner we get there, the sooner we shall find out if he has sailed again. If he has, we will need to find out where he has gone and when he sailed.’

Wulfric pulled his cloak closer about himself; he was wet and cold, and worried about his friends Alrik and Acca and the rest of the men aboard Svanr. But he knew that if they survived this wild storm, they would meet up again at the agreed rendezvous, Holmslatr, the steading of his father’s friend, Auðunar.

The quest to hunt down and seek vengeance upon Bjorn Bloodaxe and his renegades had begun a month after I had married Freyja, the beautiful sister of my friend Alrik.

Bjorn had been responsible for leading an attack on the small port town of Oxtun, and Kelton abbey, and innocent people had been murdered. But his savage attack had been thwarted by Cæna, the commander of my father’s warriors, and by my father, who led a mounted force of warriors from his fortress, Kelton Hall. Alrik along with fourteen loyal warriors had stopped the killing of a lot of innocent people at Oxtun. But in spite of the forces that had almost trapped and destroyed him, Bjorn was still able to slip away and escape along with twenty of his warriors.

His bloody and murderous flight across Wessex and into Lunden had appalled everyone, and in spite of the close pursuit and his discovery in a Lunden tavern down by the Temes, Bjorn was able to escape yet again.

This time aboard a blackship owned by Lord Ragnarson and captained by Einarr, a Dane, one of Ragnarson’s senior captains. Bjorn fled with Einarr to Valdrhæð, Ragnarson’s fortress on the Isle of Mann, where he then joined Ragnarson’s planned invasion of Wessex.

He had now become a true Viking reiver, returning to Norvegr and Skalavik, to recruit a large force of warriors from the lands of his jarl, Jarl Guðbrandr, and return to Valdrhæð in order to assist Ragnarson in his planned invasion.

The invasion had landed under the protective cover of a sea mist, some believed, created by Ragnarson’s confidant Lögmaðr, an ancient seer and holy man, gifted with unnatural powers and feared by all. But even with the aid of Lögmaðr, the invasion failed! It was met on its landing site, close to the River Afen estuary, by Lord Hrothwulf and Jarl Guðbrandr’s army.

With the assistance of King Alfred and a part of his army, Ragnarson’s invasion force was almost totally destroyed. Lord Ragnarson had been carried from the battlefield, gravely injured, and had been rushed to safety aboard his longship Dragon Claw, by his personal guard.

Later, when the tide of battle had turned against them, the warriors of his elite personal guard who were still able fought with a savage fanaticism, and they also managed to escape, along with a large part of his black-cloaked warriors. Together, they had managed to fight their way back aboard their longships, when Ragnarson’s army broke and was finally routed. Those who did manage to escape the carnage believed their lord to be dead, but only those warriors aboard Dragon Claw knew the truth.

Bjorn had also escaped the carnage, with close to four hundred of his warriors, aboard seven longships. It was after this great battle that the two young lords, Wulfric and Alrik, along with their three loyal companions and fellow warriors, Acca, Arnkell, and Raulf, swore their sacred oath to hunt down Bjorn and his followers and to seek vengeance upon them.

Late on the third day of the storm which had so sorely tried them, the winds began to drop and the storm abate; maybe Njörðr had heard their prayers and had taken pity on them.

Some of the Saxon warriors aboard had been made sick by the constant pitching and rolling of the longship, and there had been plenty of ribald jokes and laughter from the Norsemen, at the expense of the Saxon warriors, who were still getting used to such long voyages, this being their real first taste of heavy weather. But they gave as good as they got, especially when some of the Norsemen themselves succumbed to seasickness.

Since the battle and all through the long hot summer months, they had been working together on Jarl Guðbrandr’s new lands, rebuilding the old burh and the new port town of Aribjarg. The Norsemen, along with the Saxons from Kelton, had forged strong and lasting friendships; all the warriors aboard Harrvaldr, would now fight and die alongside one another without question.

Finally as the sea started to settle again and the howling wind dropped to little more than a strong breeze, it became possible for the first time in three days to talk without shouting.

The rain had blown itself out, and the clouds had also started to break up and disappear. Everyone had started to cheer and shout, as the sun at long last made an appearance, and it wasn’t long before both men and the longship started to steam under the hot sun as it set about drying everything out.

By the time we were all dry, the seas had calmed to a gentle swell with a light following wind.

During the storm, Arnkell had ordered the sail furled, with just enough left spread to give us headway, but now with the improved conditions, he ordered the sail to be fully spread.

Harrvaldr now revelled in what had become almost perfect sailing conditions and surged ahead under full sail.

Arnkell was studying the sky, as well as the sea! He was trying to work out just how far off course we had been driven. ‘If this wind keeps up and the sea stays like this, Lord Wulfric, we should reach land sometime tomorrow, but just where exactly is another thing.

‘Hopefully, not too far north of Holmslatr, we shall be made very welcome there when we arrive. The folk from Skalavik have always got along very well with our neighbours at Holmslatr. Auðunar was even thinking of joining us in Ireland at one time, but he couldn’t make up his mind. I wonder what he thinks now and what we shall find when we arrive there. It’s been a few years now since I was last there, so much may have changed. I suggest that when we arrive at Holmslatr, we approach with caution, as I really don’t know what may await us, Lord Wulfric.’

The following day, Arnkell’s prediction was proven right; one of the lookouts sighted land, just a smudge on the horizon, but definitely land. ‘God’s teeth, my lord, young Svart has good eyes, not that I should be surprised. The Hämingssons have always made the best lookouts among us. His father was just the same. I guess the gods like to favour certain families.’

As we drew closer to the coast, Arnkell pointed. ‘There! I recognise those cliffs. We are not that far from where we need to be. If we sail south for a few leagues, we will come to the entrance to the fjord that leads down to Auðunar Thrainsson’s little town of Holmslatr! Hopefully, we shall meet up with Lord Alrik there. Holmslatr is not that far north of Skalavik, just half a day’s sailing, so we will need to be careful and keep a good watch for any longships.’

I looked to where Arnkell had pointed, but all I could see were high rocky cliffs, with trees running down to the very edges of them. I had thought that the coastlines of my father’s lands were rugged, but they were nothing to compare with what I was now looking at.

As I looked up into the clear blue sky, I was almost blinded by the sun which was beating fiercely down upon us; it didn’t prevent me from seeing the hawk that had flown out from the cliff face and was now circling overhead. ‘It’s a good omen, Arnkell!’

‘Yes indeed, maybe Lord Alrik has arrived ahead of us and is already enjoying Auðunar’s hospitality. It won’t be long before we join them, and if he hasn’t arrived, we can rest while we wait for him. Auðunar can tell us what has been happening since I left and what things are now like in Skalavik.

‘If Bjorn has returned, who knows what mischief he has been up to? Most of the people who supported Jarl Guðbrandr left with him or were aboard that last fleet which arrived at Bjarndýrborg, not long before you arrived, my lord! There may be a few left who still support the old jarl, but most of those who stayed preferred to take their chances here or supported Bjorn. Auðunar and Jarl Guðbrandr always got along very well together, as did our people, but Auðunar had no time for Bjorn or his supporters. In fact, I was surprised when he didn’t take Jarl Guðbrandr’s offer to join him in Ireland.’

‘I think that given what you have just said, visiting Auðunar’s steading first was a very good idea. It will give us a chance to plan on just how we are going to try and get to Bjorn. If he is still in Skalavik, we will need to find out how many warriors he still has with him. After that voyage, I am sure that the men won’t object to a few days of hot food and ale while we plan our next move.’

‘God’s blood, Arnkell, I thought things were bad in Wessex, but from what you are telling me, it’s a lot worse here. At least King Alfred rules fairly and enforces the rule of law, and he makes sure that all his ealdormen do the same.’

‘Unfortunately, King Harald Fairhair doesn’t have that sort of control here, Lord Wulfric! Norvegr is nothing like Wessex.’

It didn’t take Arnkell long to locate the entrance to the fjord, and as we made our way down to Holmslatr, Arnkell had Svart standing back in the prow, keeping a watchful eye out for the rocks that lined the way; most of them were not visible at high tide, and over the years, they had claimed their fair share of unwary visitors, the welcome and not so welcome. ‘This is one of the worst fjords along this part of the coast to enter, Wulfric! The rocks lie just below the surface when the tide is in, and they are like dragons’ teeth, ready to rip the keel or hull out of any ship whose captain doesn’t know they are there, or where they are.’

‘Well, that hawk that’s been following us doesn’t need to worry about hidden rocks. In fact, it has nothing to really worry it at all, flying free up there, watching us struggling away down here.’

Just as he had finished talking, Arnkell ordered the sail to be furled and the oars to be manned. ‘The rocks up ahead are really bad, Wulfric! You see there, just where the fjord narrows and turns, it’s a real bastard of a stretch. Luckily for us, there is a channel that runs through the rocks. You just have to know your way through it. I prefer to row the rest of the way from here, it’s a lot safer! Once we are through the narrows, the fjord opens up into a good-sized bay with deep water.

As we made the final turn and exited the channel, there was a shocked gasp from all who were looking, for there, not far ahead of us, lay the steading of Holmslatr, and most of it was a burnt-out, blackened ruin, with very few buildings left standing. There were, however, two longships drawn up on the sand, a result of the jetty also having been burnt to the water level, just a few blackened stumps pierced the water to show that it had once existed.

‘What do you think has happened here, Arnkell?’

‘I don’t know, but I believe we are about to find out.’ And just as he finished speaking, the warriors who had arrived on the longships ahead of us came running down on to the beach and began to form a shield wall.

They were beating their swords and axes on the rims of their shields, hurling abuse and insults. They didn’t just want to drive us away; by the look of them, they wanted to kill and keep on killing. It looked like they had all gone berserk; some of them had even broken away from the shield wall and were wading out, screaming abuse and hurling spears.

‘Frigg’s tits, but they are really pissed off!’

‘You wonder why, Dagr, look! I thought I recognised those longships, it’s Auðunar and his warriors. What evil has befallen Holmslatr and its people? Stop rowing, we will hold here. I need to tell Auðunar we come as friends, not Vikings. Arnkell cupped his hands to his mouth and called out to the warriors on the beach. ‘Auðunar, Auðunar! It is Arnkell, one of Jarl Guðbrandr’s warriors, we come in peace! What has happened here, by the sacred tree of Yggdrasil, what has taken place here?’

The warriors stopped beating their weapons on their shields, and a deathly silence followed. One of the men stepped from the shield wall and walked to the water’s edge; it was Auðunar.

‘Who are you, and what do you want of me?’

‘It’s me, Arnkell, your old friend, one of Jarl Guðbrandr’s men, as are most of the men on this ship. What evil has befallen your steading and your people?’

‘By all the hounds of Helheim, you have really picked a good time to come calling, Arnkell! I never thought to ever see you again. What has bought you back here? Never mind, you can tell me when you come ashore. There isn’t much left, but you are welcome to share what we have.’ Auðunar turned and started to walk back up the beach; he called out to his warriors. ‘The Nornir are playing with us! It’s Arnkell and his men, Jarl Guðbrandr’s people.’

As soon as he had finished speaking, the warriors lowered their shields and weapons, and they walked down to the water’s edge, calling out greetings.

Arnkell ordered his men back to the oars to bring Harrvaldr on to the beach. Once it was beached, the men leapt over the side and waded ashore. And I am not too proud to admit that I was very happy to feel land under my feet again. Arnkell and Auðunar embraced, as did many of their men; they were all old friends, many having rowed and fought together in the past.

The Saxons among the crew stood alongside Raulf, not wanting to interfere with what must have been a sad and terrible time for Auðunar and his men.

I walked with Arnkell and was standing to one side as he spoke with his friend; when they eventually stopped talking, they walked over to me. ‘Wulfric, this is one of my oldest friends, Auðunar.’

‘Any friend of Arnkell’s is a friend of mine!’

‘It is good to meet you, Auðunar, although we meet under what looks like terrible circumstances.’ As we embraced, I could see where tears had streaked his weather-beaten face, and there was a hard tight look about the eyes and mouth, either from shock or pure hate, it was difficult to say.

‘Come, old friend, let us find somewhere we can sit, and you can tell us who is responsible for this.’ As we walked up the beach towards the few houses that still remained, a small group of women, children, and older folk walked towards us. ‘They are all that are left, Arnkell, the rest are dead or taken captive, to be sold as slaves. My wife and son are among them. Luckily, my dóttir, Áfriðr, survived. She was with the others in the forest, when the attack took place.’

He called Áfriðr to him, and they held each other as they both tried to come to terms with their loss.

Eventually, Auðunar spoke to her: ‘Áfriðr, do you remember Arnkell? He is one of Jarl Guðbrandr’s warriors, they will help us to get your mother and brother and the rest of our people back. While I talk with Arnkell, why don’t you go and fetch some food and ale for our guests?’

Auðunar pointed to some benches that had survived the burning, and so we walked over and sat down. I called Raulf over and asked him to take some men and bring what food and ale were left aboard Harrvaldr. Auðunar gave Arnkell a quizzical look and raised his eyebrows. I had spoken to Raulf in our own Saxon tongue. ‘I apologise, Auðunar, old friend! I forgot to mention that Wulfric and some of these men are Saxons. Jarl Guðbrandr and all of our people have left Ireland. The king of Wessex, Alfred, has given Jarl Guðbrandr a vast area of land that borders Wulfric’s father’s lands, in Wessex. Wulfric is also married to the jarl’s daughter, Freyja. You would remember her, wouldn’t you?’

‘Of course, she was a good friend of Áfriðr’s before they left for Ireland.’

‘There is so much that I need to tell you, Auðunar. Alrik sailed with us, but we lost sight of his ship in a storm. Hopefully, he has survived it and will join us here, the gods willing. And what of Skalavik, what has been happening there since I have been away?’

At the mention of Skalavik, Auðunar stood and cursed, Arnkell and I just sat and looked at one another in surprise. ‘What is it, old friend, what’s the matter?’

‘Where do you think my wife and son and the rest of my people are, Arnkell? I shall tell you: they are in chains and held captive in Skalavik!’

‘What!’ Arnkell jumped to his feet. ‘I don’t understand! What in Christ’s name is going on here?’

‘You have been away too long, Arnkell. Who do you think attacked and burnt Holmslatr to the ground? Well?’

‘I am sorry, Auðunar, I have no idea.’

‘Does the name Bjorn Bloodaxe mean anything to you? It was Bloodaxe and his warriors who attacked my steading while I was away raiding in Ireland. I returned just a week too late to save my family and my people.’

‘I am truly sorry, Auðunar! But for what it is worth, there is not one man aboard our ship that doesn’t want to see Bjorn Bloodaxe dead. It is what brings us back to Norvegr. We are hunting the murdering animal! Every one of us has sworn an oath to kill him or to see him dead! Lord Wulfric and Lord Alrik have sworn not to rest until it is so.’

‘What of Lord Alrik, if he should sail into Skalavik!’

‘No, that won’t happen, Auðunar, we arranged to sail to your steading first, where we knew we would be among friends. Alrik will come, it just depends on how far off course he was blown. But when he arrives, we can plan on how we are going to get your people back and what we are going to do about Bjorn and the rest of his reivers.’

It was mid-morning the following day when Alrik’s longship, Svanr, was sighted entering the bay; we walked down to the water’s edge to greet him. Alrik was standing in the prow, waving.

He looked relieved and happy to see us, and as Svanr was run up on to the beach, he jumped over the side and walked up to where we were waiting. He had a shocked look on his face as he approached us. ‘What in the name of the gods has happened here?’ He embraced Auðunar, and stepping back, he looked at me and then Auðunar. ‘It is good to see you here, Wulfric. Arnkell got you through that storm, I see, but what has happened here, Auðunar?’

Auðunar repeated what he had told us and how his people were now being held captive in Skalavik, including his wife and son.

‘You mean that animal Bjorn has Agattha and Eiríkr and all your people, has he lost his mind?’

‘I have no idea, Alrik, but as you and Arnkell both know, Bjorn and I never got along. But this, who would have believed it! I always supported your father, because I believed in what he was saying, but never Bjorn. If you ask me, he has always been mad, especially when it came to raiding. He seemed to get too much pleasure from killing. Maybe he saw his opportunity to pay me back for always speaking out against him.’

‘There is no question about us helping you, Auðunar! Come, we shall work out how best to rescue your people and, in the process, bring a storm of steel down on his evil head.’

‘I can promise you, Alrik, there will be no mercy shown by my warriors, only the malm-hrið, blood and vengeance, death to Bjorn and his reivers.’

Raulf and Acca had joined us, and were introduced to Auðunar. ‘I hope that you have no objections, my lords, but Raulf and I thought it best to send out patrols and post sentries out along the approaches to Holmslatr, just in case.’

‘Thank you both, I have been somewhat remiss, what with everything that has happened here, to my people. Your Saxons are experienced warriors, I see, Lord Wulfric. We will need such men if we are to succeed against Bjorn.’

‘Both Acca and Raulf fought Bjorn in the shield wall that stopped him from sacking our abbey and slaughtering the monks. Raulf here tracked the animal and his reivers halfway across Wessex, before Bjorn ambushed him, killing two of his scouts and almost killing him with an arrow.

‘The rest of the crew were with Cæna, Acca’s father, when they almost trapped him in Lunden. They managed to kill some of his men, but Bjorn and the rest of them escaped on board a blackship belonging to Ivarr Ragnarson.’

‘Yes, we heard some strange tale while we were in Ireland. Something to do with Flann Sinna and Ragnarson, it had to do with a massive defeat that they had suffered in Wessex, when they tried to invade. We were told that they had left most of their army dead on the landing grounds, that the West Saxon army slaughtered them.’

‘It wasn’t just us Saxons, Auðunar. We all took part in that battle! And without the help of Jarl Guðbrandr and his warriors, it may have ended differently. There isn’t a warrior on board our ships who doesn’t want to see Bjorn dead.’

‘Tell me, Auðunar, the people who spoke to you of the battle, did they say if Ragnarson was dead or still alive?’

‘I believe that they said he was still alive, but just how true that is I don’t know! Rumour has it that he had been gravely injured by an axe stroke late in the battle. Those that we talked to said that from what they were told, even if he does recover, he will never walk again, not properly, that is.’

‘It was Wulfric’s father who delivered that stroke. Ragnarson’s battleaxe now hangs in Lord Hrothwulf’s hall. Do you know if Bjorn came back here to recruit warriors?’

‘Yes, he did, he came with that other animal, Ránulfr, and with Sveinn. He also came with a Dane, Einarr, I think he was called. They tried to recruit some of my warriors, but none of them were interested. I think I remember hearing that he left with about twenty longships.’

‘Well, Bjorn and those warriors who left with him also took part in the invasion. He had joined forces with Ragnarson, and more than half of those warriors who left with him are now rotting on the landing grounds in Wessex, along with about three thousand others.’

‘God’s blood, Arnkell, three thousand dead, you say? That must have been some battle, what glory and honour. The Valkyries would have certainly been busy that day, another three thousand who will join the Einherjar and feast at Odin’s table. The skalds will be writing and singing of that battle, and your exploits and valour, for many years to come.’

‘I don’t know about that, my old friend! I don’t think any of us wants to go through another day like that again, not any time soon that is.’

‘Well, after hearing about your exploits in that battle, I feel more confident of rescuing my people and saving my wife and son, if they are still alive.’

‘After we have eaten, we shall put our heads together and work out just how we are going to go about achieving that and put an end to Bjorn once and for all.’

Later that evening as we sat around a campfire, drinking mead and ale, we began to work on a plan of how we were going to rescue Auðunar’s wife and son and his people; we needed to find out what was happening in Skalavik and where Bjorn and his men were.

‘I think that we need to send some people into Skalavik to find out what they can, before we make any move. If we just go charging in, we could end up being trapped and destroyed ourselves. We could even get all the captives slaughtered before we can effect a rescue.’

‘Well, who do you suggest we send, Wulfric?’

‘It cannot be any of yours or Auðunar’s men, Alrik, they will be recognised. I think that Raulf and I could pass for Norsemen! Just two warriors looking for a ship that is going raiding, we both speak your tongue and know a lot of your ways and practices, and if we ride into Skalavik, who will be any the wiser?’

‘And how will you pass yourselves off, what story will you give if you are asked?’

‘I have been thinking about that, and I have a story that just might do. It’s just close enough to the truth to be believable. I shall tell them that Raulf and I fought with Ragnarson’s army on that ill-fated invasion of his and that we were among the lucky ones who managed to escape the slaughter.

‘We know enough about the battle if we are questioned, because only warriors who were there would know such details. It should be enough to allay any suspicions or passing interest that anyone may show in us. We will say that we heard rumours of more raids being planned, led by Bjorn Bloodaxe, and that we are looking for revenge. We still want a chance to plunder, and take the silver and riches which Ragnarson had promised. After Ragnarson’s disaster in Wessex, we escaped with nothing more than our lives, and scars to show for our troubles.’

‘That may just work, Wulfric, and if you disappear in a few days’ time, they will assume that you have ridden further down the coast, looking for better prospects.’

‘I shall try and find out where they are holding your people in Skalavik, as it will make it easier for us to get to them and protect them when we attack.’

‘When do you plan on leaving?’

‘Sunrise tomorrow, Alrik, and I hope to return here sometime late the following day, so just tell the sentries to be expecting us. I wouldn’t want to be killed by our own men.’

‘Well, if you are leaving so early, we had better all get some sleep. I will have one of my men prepare the horses for you. We did manage to round up a few that weren’t taken in Bjorn’s raid. Oh! And, Wulfric, you had better wear this. It belonged to my father.’ Auðunar tossed me a silver amulet of Thor’s hammer, on a heavy silver chain. Wulfric had never worn religious symbols of any kind; he had been given a crucifix once by Brother Cahir, but had felt uncomfortable wearing it, so he had kept it in his room, not wishing to offend his teacher and friend. Wulfric thanked Auðunar for his gift, hanging the amulet about his neck.

Raulf looked, and nodded approvingly. ‘That was very thoughtful, Auðunar, we all know how much Bjorn hates Christians! It looks like it belongs there, my lord, although I’m not sure what Brother Cahir will say.’

Early the following morning, Wulfric and Raulf rode out of Holmslatr, following the trail that Auðunar had told them to follow. He had informed them that if they rode at a steady pace, they should arrive in Skalavik by late afternoon, early evening at the latest.

The trail led them through a thick forest, and Auðunar had warned them to keep a close watch for bears and wolves, as men weren’t the only predators in these forests.

As they rode, Raulf finally broke the silence. ‘This is very different from back home, Wulfric. The country is as wild as its people.’ The trail led them inland away from the coast, where the country wasn’t as broken and rugged as that around Auðunar steading; the further they rode, the denser the forest became and the cooler it got, and it wasn’t long before they both pulled their cloaks more tightly about themselves.

‘No wonder Auðunar warned us to be wary of bears and wolves, Raulf! I wonder what else is roaming about this forest. It makes me feel very uneasy! What did Arnkell say just before we left? That he would pray to the god Viðarr to protect us on our journey, I think that maybe we should offer a prayer to Viðarr as well.’

Raulf laughed. ‘I know what you mean! This forest has a really malign feel to it, not like our forest back home in Kelton! I shall feel a lot more comfortable once we are through this and enjoying a few ales in Skalavik.’ They rode on in silence once again. It was difficult keeping track of time, as the forest was so dense, with only a dim light penetrating down to the trail that they were following.

They were just beginning to think that the cold dark forest would never end, when the light suddenly started to improve, and rounding a bend in the winding forest trail, they could see laid out before them the fortified town of Skalavik.

The land in front of them had been cleared, and it was made up of low hills covered in crops, with fenced pastures holding cattle and horses. There were women and children in the fields, still tending to the crops, and just to the right of the trail, on a slight rise, was a high watchtower, and it was manned. ‘Halt! Who are you, and what brings you to Skalavik?’

Wulfric told the guard the story that they had agreed upon, about looking for a ship to go raiding.

‘Stay where you are, one of us will come down and escort you into Skalavik. A warrior they had not seen descended the ladder and mounted one of the two horses tethered under the tower.

He rode over to them. ‘I am Ulukil Sigurdsson, and who are you?’

Wulfric answered, ‘My name is Valgard Ulfsson, and this is Kjartan Vigisson. We wish to go raiding and are looking for a place aboard a longship. We heard it rumoured that Bjorn Bloodaxe was looking for warriors? That he has a fleet of snekke, ready to sail?’

‘You heard right. Unfortunately you are too late, he has already sailed. He left two days ago, just before the storm hit us.’

Wulfric couldn’t hide the look that crossed his face. Luckily, Ulukil misread the look as being one of disappointment at a missed chance to go raiding.

‘By the look of it, you have ridden a long way for nothing, but if you are willing to wait, I am sure Bjorn would be happy for you to join him. He’s always looking for good experienced warriors, as long as they are not Christian. And as you know, there are always empty places on board the returning snekke, places that need filling, especially aboard Bjorn’s.’ And he rode off laughing, with Wulfric and Raulf following along behind. As they started to pass the people working in the fields, Wulfric noticed that none of them bothered to look at the two new warriors, riding by.

‘Your people are not very curious, Ulukil?’

‘No, they are not, Valgard, they have learned not to be. There have been so many warriors coming and going over the last few months, they no longer take any interest. Except for last week, we sacked a steading just to the north of here, and the ones who survived were brought here in chains. That got their attention. Nearly all of Holmslatr’s warriors were away, raiding in Ireland at the time. It couldn’t have been easier. The few that were left, along with the older warriors among them, didn’t stand much of a chance, although I don’t think they expected to get raided by Bjorn.

‘The wife of Auðunar, the leader of the steading that we raided, is still beautiful for her age! She and the other captive women, and girls, gave us good sport and pleasure that night in the great hall. That is why there are guards in the watchtowers and sentries out on the approaches to Skalavik. Bjorn sailed with most of the fittest warriors. We have enough to defend Skalavik, but a lot are past their prime and those that are left are still recovering from wounds.

‘Some will never go raiding again, but they can still stand guard on the palisade, however, against fit healthy warriors! Well, they will need a lot of help from the Nornir, if they are to survive. Only Bjorn would think of sacking Holmslatr and then leave to go reiving, taking nearly all of the best warriors with him.

‘Auðunar and his men are really going to be pissed off when they return. We can certainly expect a visit from them when they get back! I just hope they think we are stronger than we really are, not that it will stop them from trying. And when they do come, the god of vengeance, Váli, will be riding with them, of that you can be sure! Auðunar and his warriors will be seeking blood and vengeance. Bjorn said he had a score to settle with Auðunar, and so he settled it.’

‘So, that’s what happened to that steading? We wondered what had taken place there when we passed it. We thought it had just been abandoned.’

As they rode through the heavily guarded gates and into the fortified steading of Skalavik, they could see that there were still a lot of warriors about the place, and Wulfric commented on the fact that so many warriors had been left behind. ‘Yes, you are right, Valgard, a lot of them are the ones that I told you about. When Bjorn returned from the invasion of Wessex, his longships were overloaded with warriors, a lot of them wounded. If it hadn’t been for the intervention of the Nornir, they would never have managed to return at all.

‘There were so many aboard some of the ships that the sea was not that far off the rípr on some of them. If they had been caught in the storm that raged through here a few days before they arrived, it would have poured over the top strakes and they would have foundered.

‘It was only by constant bailing that they managed to reach here at all, that and fair seas. I was one of those left behind to protect Skalavik while they were away. At first I was angry at being left behind to defend the place, but when I saw what remained of them on their return, and the state they were in, I have been thanking the gods for my good fortune ever since.’

‘Why were the snekke so overloaded, what happened?’

‘Well, when Ragnarson’s army fell apart, it became every man for himself, or so I was told. From what they told me, they just climbed aboard the first longships they could reach. Almost half of Bjorn’s longships were lost to those Saxon bastards. But I will give Bjorn credit, he held off his escape until he had all the warriors that he could carry aboard his remaining ships, before he ordered them to row clear.’

‘Yes, that’s how I remember it!’

‘What, you were there! You took part in Ragnarson’s invasion?’

‘Yes, we both did, we were part of Ragnarson’s army fighting on the right of his shield wall. We had Mercians fighting to our right, if you call what they did fighting. We would have done better without the Skraeling, huglausi scum, cowards all of them.’

‘Bjorn was to Ragnarson’s left, so we didn’t see much of what took place there, once the battle started, but it was the Mercian and those Irish bastards that broke first. We became caught up among Ragnarson’s personal guard when they fell back. By Odin’s teeth, those drengr can fight, it was the only reason we were able to get away.

‘By the gods, we were lucky! We ended up back at Ragnarson’s fortress at Valdrhæð on the Isle of Mann, and that is all we received from the invasion which was going to give us Wessex and all its treasures and women. Not long after, I was told of a blackship that was coming this way. The captain agreed to return us and a few others home. As soon as our wounds had healed and we had recovered, we came looking for a ship to take us raiding again.

‘We thought we might try our luck with Bjorn, and go raiding just for plunder and riches! Let Ragnarson fight for kingdoms if he wants to. He is rich enough, unlike some of us.’

‘I hear you, brother! You are not alone with those sentiments, there are many here who returned feeling the same way, and Bjorn is one of them.’

As they rode through the town, Wulfric and Raulf were studying the defences and taking note of the number of warriors they could see. There were still a lot of women, children, and elderly about the place, and these must have been those who chose not to leave or were the families of Bjorn’s followers.

They reined in their horses, stopping next to the entrance of the great hall; the sound of dogs fighting, and men shouting out their wagers to one another, resounded through the walls and the open door, there was a guard standing with his back to them, watching the fight through the doorway. ‘Come follow me, I will take you to see Bolverk. Bjorn has left him in command of Skalavik while he is away.’

Dismounting, we followed Ulukil, who brushed past the guard and strode into the hall; not a single person bothered to look as we entered! Everyone’s attention was directed at the two large fighting dogs, which were trying to tear each other apart as the men cheered and goaded the vicious-looking animals on.

There were a lot of ribald remarks being thrown about and plenty of piss-taking, mainly directed at the two dogs and their owners. It seemed that the dogs were just not up to standard, and according to the spectators, neither were the owners, and it looked like the entire hall was about to erupt into a bloody brawl at any moment.

As we entered, we could see that two huge warriors among them had already drawn their swords and that a lot of the spectators now started to back away. The drunken swordsmen started to wave their swords and threaten everyone around them with imminent death and mutilation, and if it hadn’t been so serious, it would have been laughable.

Most of those who had moved out of reach, and were now safely clear enough, were trying to goad the two swordsmen into fighting each other. Pointing and laughing at them, calling them a pair of old women, and shouting for them to put their swords down before they hurt themselves making them more angry and the situation more deadly.

Ulukil called out to a big, heavily tattooed warrior with long plaited blond hair and a beard that had brightly coloured glass beads threaded through it. His name was Bolverk, and he just glanced in our direction. ‘You can wait, Ulukil, until this is finished! It is always these two, Æirik and Eilif, always the first to get drunk, always the first to pull their swords.

‘I think it is about time we let them settle their differences, once and for all! We shall see which one of them is a true Úlfhéðnar, one of Odin’s special warriors, a true berserker, and which one isn’t. Well, Æirik, Eilif, the time has come to prove which of you is what he says he is and which one of you is full of shit. You fight now, or I will have you both cut down by these two archers.’

Both Wulfric and Raulf had heard of the famed Norse berserkers, but neither of them had ever seen one before, and it was Ulukil who explained to them what was going on. ‘Those two arrived not long after Bjorn returned, and they have both let it be rumoured that they come from a line of berserkers, that it is in their blood. I think Bolverk has had enough of them. We shall see which of them speaks the truth.

‘We had better stand well clear of them. If one of them is what he says he is, then I don’t want to be standing too close. You know what they are like. They will even kill their own men in battle when they go berserk. They are like a helmet full of cut snakes.’

We moved to the edge of the hall, along with everyone else; the insults and abuse were still being hurled at the two warriors, who now seemed oblivious to everything except each other and the abuse and the threats they were making.

The dogs had been beaten into submission and were now cowering at the other end of the great hall, and everyone just stood back, watching expectantly; a dog fight was good entertainment, but a fight to the death by two warriors was even better.

Without warning, Æirik dropped his sword and picked up one of the heavy long benches; he hurled it at Eilif, who just managed to duck in time, and as he ducked, Æirik scooped up his sword and charged. Eilif had just time enough to leap on to one of the tables behind him.

They were both screaming at each other, in a language that nobody could understand. Æirik jumped on to one of the benches next to the table and took a mighty swing at Eilif, who just avoided being gutted.

Æirik moved quickly away again, back to where he had been sitting; he hurled his sword at Eilif, cursing and just missing his head by no more than a hand’s width. He then bent down and picked up a huge long-handled battleaxe. And to everyone’s amazement, he started to dance and chant; he began foaming at the mouth and biting the haft of his war axe as he held it between both hands! And then he began to attack the table that Eilif was standing on, screaming obscenities and foaming at the mouth; his mighty axe started to splinter the table with each blow.

We all looked to Eilif to see what he would do; he had moved down to the other end of the table, and jumping down, he dropped his sword and picked up his own axe. He was now also foaming at the mouth, moaning and chanting; his eyes were glazed as he also started to attack the table, screaming his rage and hate at Æirik.

By now, both of them were almost unrecognisable as the warriors who had started the fight just a few moments before, and as we started to move further away, they rushed at each other.

With no thought of protecting themselves, they both charged, swinging their axes in deadly hissing arcs of death. They were both moaning like tortured souls that had been cast down into Helheim! And as their axe heads clashed, sparks were sent flying as they crashed into each other with tremendous force, like two fighting bulls, both spinning away, and as they did so, both took another mighty swing at the other.

Æirik had started his swing just a fraction before Eilif, who swung his axe at shoulder height, in an attempt to take Æirik’s head off, and so it was that Æirik’s blow landed first, cutting down through Eilif’s shoulder and into his chest. Even with such a brutal and terrible injury, Eilif still tried one last stroke at Æirik, but halfway through it, his axe fell from his dead nerveless fingers, and he fell to the floor in a welter of blood and gore.

Bolverk it was who shouted out, ‘Freyja’s tits, I don’t believe it, they are both fucking berserkers! Who would have reckoned, on that?’ And he started to roar with laughter.

‘Come let’s leave Æirik to finish hacking Eilif’s body to pieces. It should help calm him down, and when it’s safe enough, we can get the slaves to clear away the mess. Can you believe it, Ulukil, both of them turning out to be real berserkers? I wouldn’t have been so quick to encourage them to fight. I thought that maybe one may have been, but both of them Úlfhéðnar!’

Raulf and I stood and stared at each other, unable to fully comprehend what we had just witnessed.

‘Well, Ulukil, you wanted to speak to me, so speak.’

‘These two warriors have just rode in, Bolverk, looking to go raiding with Bjorn.’

‘Well, they are too late, aren’t they, though they look handy enough. Who are they and where do they come from?’

‘They told me their names. This one is Valgard, and the other one is called Kjartan. They say that they fought with Ragnarson’s army when he tried to invade Wessex.’

‘Do they, and how do you know for sure, Ulukil, you weren’t there, were you? So, you two say that you landed with Ragnarson’s army and fought on that open meadow where we advanced and formed our battle array, do you?’

‘No, we don’t, we didn’t fight in any bloody meadow, the battle array that we were formed up in was in front of a damned gully, and then we only just had time to form up before the Saxons arrived. That gully really gave those bastards an advantage.

‘I don’t know where you fought, Bolverk, but it took some hard fighting to get up the opposite bank of that bloody gully. Ragnarson promised us all that his holy man and seer Lögmaðr had prophesied that we would land unopposed, and I suppose that we did, but that was the only part of what he had promised that came to pass, because everything else turned to shite. If you were there as you say, Bolverk, then you know as well as we do what happened.’

Bolverk looked at us both for a moment, not saying a word and then, laughing, threw his arms about us. ‘Come, brothers, only those who were there could possibly know of what you speak. I am sorry that I doubted your word, but we have to be careful, especially after what Bjorn did to Auðunar’s steading, the crazy bastard.’

‘Yes, we saw the results on our way here! Ulukil said that you expect a visit from Auðunar, when he returns.’

‘Wouldn’t you? I just wish that Bjorn had left that particular raid until later, under the circumstances. If you are prepared to wait until he returns, you will both get a place on one of his snekke. We could do with two more warriors, just in case Auðunar does come calling.’

‘We shall think on it, but I would prefer to still keep looking further along the coast. If we still can’t find a place aboard a longship, then we will return.’

‘That’s good enough for me, Valgard. Come, I will show you the captives we took from Holmslatr. There are plenty of good-looking women and girls, just take your pick. It might help you change your minds about leaving.’

Bolverk led us to another large hall. ‘This was used to house some of our warriors, but now with Bjorn gone, we have put the captives here. It is a lot more secure and easier for us to control them.’ He ordered the guard at the door to remove the heavy timber plank that secured the door, and to open it. We followed Bolverk inside. All the captives were huddled as far away from the door as possible; there was a rank smell of fear and unwashed bodies. Bolverk ordered the women and girls to step forward.

At first, none of them moved, but very slowly, a woman still holding on to one of the young girls got up and started to walk forward. As she did, one of the older boys holding on to her, pleaded with her to stay, and then in desperation and fury, he rushed at Bolverk and tried to strike him. Bolverk struck him with the back of his hand, sending the boy flying across the floor. ‘Try that again, you little whelp! And I will have your hands off.’

I knew, the moment I saw the woman that the boy had been holding on to, that she must be Agattha, Auðunar’s wife, and that the boy who had tried to hold her back was Eiríkr, his son.

As she rushed to help her son, I gave a small gasp of surprise, for she was one of the most beautiful women that I had ever laid eyes upon. She was tall, with long plaited blond hair hanging down her back, and she had all the bearing and stature of one that was born to lead.

I stepped forward and pointed at her. ‘I will take that one! And you, Kjartan, which one has caught your eye?’ Raulf looked at me as if I had gone crazy, but a sharp dig in his ribs bought him back to the reality of the situation, and he pointed to a pretty dark-haired girl.

Bolverk turned, and congratulated us on our choices. ‘You like them a bit older then, do you, Valgard?’

‘Yes, I prefer the more experienced ones. They don’t complain as much and only open their mouth when you want them to.’

As we left the hall, I turned to Bolverk. ‘You wouldn’t mind having some of your women take them to where they can clean themselves up. There’s not much point in picking the good-looking ones if you can’t see them under their filth.’

‘If it helps to change your mind about staying, not a problem, there are a few empty buildings that you can stay in. I will have the women sent over later. Let me know if they don’t do everything that you want them to. If they refuse you anything, I will have them flogged.

‘Now, let’s see if they have managed to calm Æirik down and have cleaned up the mess that he made. I could do with some food and ale, and you can tell me more about the battle on Ragnarson’s front. A lot of us are still not really sure what in Hel’s name happened! Bjorn said it was to do with Ragnarson going down and being carried from the field of battle. But the only part of that battle that I am sure about is what happened directly in front of us. I was too busy killing Saxons and trying to stay alive.’

‘It wasn’t that much different for us. I have to admit that I had never experienced anything like it before, not for the intensity, and just how long it went on for. Kjartan and I consider ourselves both lucky to have survived and then to have escaped, what followed all that, and with nothing to show for it. From now on, it’s just raiding and plundering for the two of us.’

‘You will get no argument from me, brother! All those warriors dead, and with no silver or plunder to show for it, you should hear Bjorn go on about Ragnarson. It fair makes your hair stand on end, so it does.’

We walked back to the great hall, and just as we arrived, the slaves were carrying out the last bits and pieces of Eilif’s body. ‘Bloody Úlfhéðnar, they are more dangerous to their own side half the time. I refuse to fight anywhere near the bloody lunatics.

‘It was Bjorn who recruited them. He must have sensed something about them that I didn’t, but then Bjorn is as close as you can get to being a berserker himself, without actually being one.

‘He thought that having two Úlfhéðnar in his ranks would bring him prestige. I don’t know how he is going to react when he finds out that he only has one left.’

As we sat down next to the fire, Bolverk called one of the slaves to him. ‘Fetch us food and ale, and don’t be all day about it, or I will have your eyes.’ The slave rushed away, terrified, not wishing to lose her eyes over a few beakers of ale and a few plates of food.

We spent the rest of the day