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Authors: Marianne Whiting

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BOOK: Shieldmaiden
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I trembled and leaned heavily on Kirsten as we walked towards the fire the men had lit in the middle of the beach. Ragnar saw us and came over.

‘What kept you? '

Kirsten glared at him and hissed: ‘The Mistress is unwell and no wonder and I don't understand how you could allow…'

‘Quiet Kirsten, you're speaking to my husband.' I staggered and Ragnar caught me and held me steady.

‘Sigrid, what is the girl talking about?' I couldn't answer. I shook my head. My eyes filled with tears again and I bit my lower lip to stop it trembling.

‘She lost the child because of having to do the steering all night and…' She was still speaking when Ragnar turned to me.

‘Child! Sigrid, I didn't know. Why do you keep these things from me? How can I protect you if you don't tell me anything?' Their raised voices attacked my ears. I burst out crying. That silenced both of them. Ragnar held me close and rocked me softly from side to side. After a while Kirsten said:

‘Forgive me Master, she only just found out herself. Maybe she wasn't sure.' Ragnar dried my tears and Kirsten rubbed my back. ‘She's very cold, Master, she should be by the fire.'

Fleeces had been laid out for me, Ragnar and Archbishop Wolfstan. I lay down grateful for the warmth from the fire and for the flickering light which hid my tear-swollen face.

‘Where are the children?' Ragnar nodded towards a nest of hides and shawls where Olvir and Kveldulf slept surrounded by the crew. The men were all asleep too except for the handful keeping watch. One other was also awake. Anlaf moved back and forth among his sleeping comrades. He was bent double supporting Harald as he walked on unsteady legs trying to kick sand over the sleeping men.

‘See if you can settle Harald, Kirsten. Anlaf must be exhausted.' I watched Kirsten take Harald and sit down next to Olvir and Kveldulf and I was overcome with love for my children and gratitude for our survival.

I was sore and cold and full of sad thoughts. I didn't expect to be able to sleep. But many hours later I was woken by the sun and the noise made by the men as they stretched and cleared their throats, coughing and spitting. I turned over. My body felt covered in bruises, my limbs ached and my cleft stung and burned. Slowly I sat up and looked around. The sun was rising and the sea and sky merged in a golden glow on the horizon. A slight mist rose from the water's edge and languid waves rolled on to the sand with a soothing murmur. The bay was surrounded by steep cliffs on both sides and a gentle tree-clad slope stretched between them. On the north side of the bay I counted eight ships and a number of smaller vessels moored by three wooden piers or resting in the sand. Smoke rose from behind the trees. Whoever lived here would know that we had arrived.

Ragnar saw that I was awake and brought me fresh water. I managed to smile. We had no time to talk as the Archbishop came to wish us a good morning.

‘I know this land,' he said. ‘It's Skarthi's burgh. So we're not too far off course. Jorvik is just two day's ride from here. I could continue by horse. It's as fast if not faster than to sail up the Humber and the Ouse. I think you said, Ragnar Sweinson, that you wish to sail for the Irish Sea.'

‘Yes, it would suit me to take on water and supplies here and continue north along the coast. But shall you not need an escort? I'm not sure I can spare more than one or two.'

‘Oh, I'm sure Ingolf Skarthi will have a few young men kicking their heels and causing trouble. I'll be doing him a favour taking them off his hands for a few days.'

‘Who is this Ingolf Skarthi?' I was intrigued by the image of a chieftain with harelip. Usually such children were thought a curse and put out to die.

‘He was not born such. His upper lip was slit by a dagger in a fight. His wife sewed it together but it left a mighty scar which gave him the name, a name that carries respect in these parts, I might add.'

I could not let on that I was not fully recovered from my ordeal so I picked up my weapons and joined Ragnar and the Archbishop to pay a visit to Skarthi. We took eighteen men, a number small enough to show peaceful intent but large enough to denote Wolfstan's status. Already of imposing stature he dressed for the occasion, a large bejewelled cross showed gleaming among the ermine and embroideries of his splendid cloak. He carried his tall crook as behoves an archbishop but under his cloak he wore a mailshirt and his sword was by his side. Ragnar too noticed this and raised his eyebrows at me.

Skarthi's burgh was built to withstand attack. Surrounded by a ditch and a palisade on three sides it nestled at the foot of a forbidding cliff which finished with a steep drop into the sea. The open gate indicated that Skarthi already knew he had nothing to fear from us. Armed housekarls met us and led the way between tightly packed houses to a longhouse built in the Norse fashion with low walls and a tall, steep roof. Smoke seeped out through the openings in the thatch at each end where the ridge finished with two crossed dragons' heads looking in opposite directions keeping watch over the household. Our men were made to wait outside. Ragnar and I were asked to leave our weapons in the wapenshouse before entering the hall. One guard pointed to Wolfstan's sword but faced with the Archbishop's scowl, didn't insist.

Skarthi was a man of importance, judging by his hall. The walls at the top end were covered with woven hangings in brilliant colours showing scenes of hunters and their prey. Skarthi sat leaning against cushions in a seat carved with ravens and wolves' heads, his legs stretched out in front and his hands clasped over the dome of his belly. His large head was dominated by a sprawling moustache so heavy the ends hung below his clean-shaven double-chin. He rose hurriedly when he saw us, stepped down from the dais and supported by one of his men bent his knee to Wolfstan.

‘Archbishop! I was told to expect visitors but nobody told me such an illustrious traveller had been washed up on my shore.' He kissed the proffered ring and after the Archbishop had blessed him Skarthi waved to the servant to help him rise. Panting with the effort he returned to his seat and made room for Wolfstan to sit next to him. Ragnar and I were introduced, seated on the bench on Skarthi's left side and then ignored.

Wenches brought meat, bread and ale to the table. Realising how hungry I was, I did full justice to everything set in front of me. Ragnar did likewise but Wolfstan turned down the meat.

‘It is Friday here as in the rest of the Christian world I assume, Ingolf,' he said.

‘Ah, but so it is!' Skarthi dropped his pigs-trotter on to the table. ‘Those stupid thralls, they…' he cleared his throat and fumbled at his chest. I smiled when I recognised that he was secreting his Thor's hammer amulet into the folds of his tunic.

‘And how is the building of the chapel proceeding, Ingolf ?' The Archbishop seemed not to have noticed the discomfiture of our host. ‘It must be almost finished. It is, let me think, how many years since King Aethelstan sent me here to baptise you and your household?'

‘Ah now Your Grace, let me think. It can't be more than three, perhaps less.'

‘Oh more than that, surely. Four at least. Oh, and where is the young priest I left behind to help you carry out your religious duties?'

‘He…ahem…left.'

‘Oh really, but the young man was so full of zeal, so eager to serve both King Aethelstan and Our Lord. What made him change his mind? He should have let the King know at the very least.' Skarthi was seized by a coughing fit and Wolfstan gave him a hearty punch between the shoulder-blades. I realised then that the poor priest had met with an untimely death, probably at the hands of Skarthi's people and that Wolfstan was fully aware of this. Skarthi was now sweating and red in the face.

‘Your Grace has come a long way to honour your humble servant with a visit. How can I be of service to Your Grace?' he said when he had stopped coughing. Wolfstan explained that he needed men and horses for the journey back to Jorvik and Skarthi agreed with enthusiasm to every request. He beamed with relief and goodwill when Wolfstan declared his intent to leave the same day. His benevolence extended to Ragnar and me in offering supplies and men to help load the ship so we could leave by the next tide.

The escort for Wolfstan and the supplies for Storm-Wolf arrived and Wolfstan decided to leave immediately. Before he left he gave Olvir a small cross of silver on a chain.

‘We never played for money but I think I owe you this all the same. Just don't follow your mother's example and keep bending the top arm back and forth because sooner or later it will break off.' He winked at me. My mouth fell open. I wondered how he knew. Then he mounted his horse, waved the sign of the cross in our direction and rode off.

Some of Skarthi's men arrived with a barrel of fresh water and the carcasses of two sheep and a heifer. They insisted on carrying the supplies out to Storm-Wolf. Skarthi had ordered them to give us every assistance, the servant in charge assured me with a smirk.

‘They show too much interest in what's onboard,' muttered Thorfinn and Ragnar nodded.

‘Get everyone ready,' he said. The men gathered our belongings which had been spread out on the sand to dry. Kirsten and the children were carried out to the ship and told to get in under the steering platform. I went with them and stood in front of their shelter ready for what was to come.

The tide was still out and Storm-Wolf rested with her shallow keel embedded in the sand. Some of the crew tried to push her further out and the rest formed a shieldwall at the water's edge. Skarthi had obviously thought to take us by surprise and sent only a handful of warriors. When they saw our strength they turned and ran for the borough. We had some precious moments before they brought reinforcements. But the water was still too shallow to support the hull. The crew heaved and shunted and the ship churned up sand as it moved a few ells further out. Skarthi's men returned. Now they greatly outnumbered us. Arrows and throwing axes began to find targets among our crew. The shieldwall retreated and put their backs to the ship's sides. Storm-Wolf edged into deeper water and was afloat. The men clung to oar-ports and ropes and clambered onboard. The extra weight was enough to put us aground again. Skarthi's men advanced through the water towards us. Some carried ladders. Behind them archers added fire to the axes and rocks coming at us through the air. A wave lifted Storm-Wolf clear. We cheered. But the wave receded and we were again firmly lodged on the sand.

The steering oar had not been pulled onboard and when the wave hit us it swung into place. I felt the jolt when the wave left, the ship came down and the rudder dug deep into the sandy bottom of the bay. I rushed over and tried to move it but it was stuck acting as a wedge keeping the Storm-Wolf facing the beach. The first of Skarthi's men had reached the side of the ship and were using their ladders to climb onboard.

I knew I had caused this attack. Odin and Thor had guided Storm-Wolf to Skarthi's borough. I was to be punished and my family and followers with me. I raised my sword to the sky and called to the gods.

‘Odin you refused my sacrifice of a fine horse. You turned away from my remorse, you rejected my plea for forgiveness. But you took my child. A life for a life. I have paid my debt. Save us!' Then I planted my feet firmly in front of the steering platform. Underneath it Kirsten was hiding with my children. I prepared to defend them.

The attackers struggled through the water to get to us. Many fell trying to get close and climb their ladders. But they were many more than us and they were fired with greed and the scent of victory. The water coloured red as men fell bleeding among the shallow waves. We had used up spears and throwing axes, our own and the ones aimed at us and returned. We pushed ladders from the sides of the ship and sent men sprawling backwards into the water. We hacked and sliced with our swords and axes. And still they kept coming. Until a cry rang out and they retreated. But they did not pull back in defeat. They looked upwards and cheered. There was a mighty fire on top of the cliff. Rolls of straw had been set alight and came shooting off the edge towards us. Most landed in the water with a furious fizz. But some landed on the deck of Storm-Wolf. We used oars to lift them over the sides but more kept coming and fire was taking hold.

I looked up to the sky, hoping for a sign. I felt for my Thor's hammer amulet but my fingers got tangled in my neck chain. There was my little silver cross, distorted out of all recognition and weakened by my constant bending it. It was easy to twist it off the chain. I threw it in a wide arch towards the sun. It glittered for a moment before falling and disappearing into the water.

There was a rumbling from the clouds behind the village, a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder. Water began to foam around the ship's hull. Thor waited until this our most desperate time before he sent the tidal wave that lifted Storm-Wolf free of her fetters. With a triumphant shout the men put out the oars and Storm-Wolf rode the foaming water and headed out to sea. I knew we were safe then and I knew we were on our way home.

THE END

CHARACTERS IN SHIELDMAIDEN

King Aethelstan
King of Wessex and Mercia 924 – 939

Aisgerd Rolfsdaughter,
Jarl Swein Hjaltebrand's wife, Ragnar's mother

Old Ake
, servant at Swanhill

Brother Ansgar,
monk, scribe at King Aethelstan's court

Anlaf Yngvarson
, son of Yngvar and Hrodney of Rannerdale Farm.

Bard Beornson
, housekarl to Sigrid's father at Becklund then freeman on Swanhill.

Beorn the Lame
, servant at Buttermere Farm

Bjalke Sigtryggson
, Cumbrian chieftain supports Sigrid at the Allthing

Bjarne
, son of a servant woman at Buttermere, Olvir's friend

Brita Bjalkesdaughter,
Bard Beornson's wife

King Constantine
of Scotland

BOOK: Shieldmaiden
7.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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