Denmark 1002
King Aethelred was not my king, but I knew that he was a bad one. He had paid us gold early in the year but, and I know not why, on the last day of Gormánuður, the day of the Christian saint, St Brice, the king ordered every Dane living in his lands to be killed. Even now, many years later I can find no sense in it. To make matters worse two of the victims were King Sweyn’s sister, Gunhild, and her husband, Pallig. The payment of gold Aethelred had made meant nothing to King Sweyn, he would have vengeance and Jarl Sweyn and his hearth weru were summoned to his court for a counsel of war. We had enjoyed a year of peace but that would now end! We had thought the gold ensured peace. It did not.
That there was anger amongst the jarls was clear but, as I stood listening to the debate, I sensed that King Sweyn Forkbeard was not as upset by the death of his sister as he made out. It struck me that he now had a pretext to go beyond just raiding and bring large swathes of King Aethelred’s kingdom under his control. I am not sure that he thought at the time that he would be king of that land, but having taken large parts of Norway the ambition must have lurked in his head. The king’s two sons, Harald, the younger and Cnut, the elder were at the assembly and I wondered what they thought of it all. The princelings were heirs to what might turn out to be an empire. That Harald was seen as the heir was down to the fact that Cnut’s mother had died and Harald’s mother, Sigfrid the Haughty, still lived. They showed in their faces and their build that they had different mothers and, as I later learned, their characters were different too.
The assembled hearth weru were spread around the hall. There was no hint of danger to our charges from weapons but each jarl, with the exception of Jarl Svein Hákonarson, the Norseman, and our jarl, had ensured that their hearth weru wore shining mail and gleaming helmets. They were making a statement. We did not need such adornments for our achievements spoke for us. I also had Oathsword hanging from my belt and I saw every warrior’s eye drawn to it. Thralls brought refreshments to the room, but they were served by us, the hearth weru. We tasted each jug before pouring it into horns. There would be no treachery in the hall, but the refreshments and the ale came from outside. We took no chances. There were many Norse who resented the defeat at Svolder and while they might not have the courage to face us in battle there were other means to achieve their ends. It was when King Sweyn spoke of Aethelred’s new wife, Emma of Normandy that we all paid close attention for this was news. The sister of the Duke of Normandy suggested an alliance with warriors who would give us a harder fight than the Saxons. The Normans came from Viking stock and were renowned as fierce fighters. There were even a few who suggested we go to Rouen to fight them. Wise heads prevailed but it was decided that we would attack England in the next campaigning season. The question was where?
I knew that his failure to take Exeter still rankled and it was Karl Three Fingers who suggested that we fall upon that burh. As part of his argument, he said that King Aethelred had given the land to his wife and she had garrisoned it with some of her kinsmen. A new nunnery nearby also suggested a rich haul. When Karl said that we had a ready-made base on the Isle of Wiht, it was decided. We would return to the scene of our great success. The difference would be that the fleet we would take and the warriors who crewed them would be able to defeat any army that the Saxons sent to defeat us. I thought that we would return to Agerhøne directly, but we did not. While other jarls and their hearth weru left we were summoned to a meeting with the king, Karl Three Fingers, Jarl Svein Hákonarson and the two princelings.
King Sweyn was smiling and that always made me suspicious. He positively beamed and addressed Sweyn Skull Taker, “Karl here has told me of the great deeds you did when you raided for me and know that I am grateful. You helped to fill our war chest and that will bear fruit when we raid. You too, Jarl Svein Hákonarson, have been no less successful in putting down the rebellions fermented by those who lost at Svolder and cannot face the consequences of their defeat. I would like the two of you to act as foster fathers to my two sons. Harald will go to Norway with you, Jarl Svein Hákonarson, and Cnut will join the Jarl of Ribe and Agerhøne. I would have them learn the art of war from the best that we have. Both are of an age where they can learn the art of war. They have been shown how to use a sword but as the future leaders of Denmark and my lands in Norway, they need to learn the skills of leadership. I would, of course, train them but I have other demands upon my time. What say you?”
There could, of course, be no refusal and both jarls nodded their agreement and their thanks for such an honour. My heart sank for we now not only had our jarl to protect but also the heirs to the crown! Surprisingly, to me at least, they came alone and without either servants or guards of their own. Cnut would live in the jarl’s hall and be brought up as I was, as a foster son. I wondered at the arrangement and its purpose. Trying to see into Sweyn Forkbeard’s mind was like trying to unravel the coils of a snake! Cnut did have his own pony and he could, thankfully, ride. He was no longer a child but he did not have the frame of a youth of Agerhøne the same age. The farewells were perfunctory, and I saw none of the affection which Sweyn Skull Taker had for his own children and, indeed, for me. This could only be a good thing for the princeling. We could not comment on the task for the simple reason that while we were at the court, we did not know who was listening and it seemed both rude and offensive to Cnut to talk about him as though he was not there. Instead, while my foster father wrestled with the new duties, Sweyn One Eye and I spoke with the boy.
“Agerhøne is not as grand as Heiða-býr, Cnut.”
“I know. You are Sweyn One Eye?” My cousin nodded, “Did it hurt when you lost your eye?”
“The wound hurt, and I did not know that I had lost the eye until later. It has taken me time to grow accustomed to fight once more, but my cousin Sven helps. He guards the jarl’s right side and I the left.”
The young Dane was a serious-looking youth, and he did not smile. It must have been hard for him to be thrust amongst strangers with barely a goodbye. “And you are the warrior with the dragon sword.” I nodded, “You let me touch it when I was younger. That was kind and I have never forgotten. Often warriors ignore me because I am young but one day, I will be older, and they will take notice.”
Hawk asked, “Will you miss your brother?”
“Not really for he hits me when others are not looking and his mother protects him when I try to fight back. I will have my revenge.”
I felt sympathy for him then as I remembered the blows I had received until I had stood up for myself. It made me determined to make his life as pleasant as possible.
We were nearing Agerhøne when Jarl Sweyn spoke for the first time since we had left the king, “You will be treated the same as my sons were and as my grandchildren are. My grandson, Sweyn, is but a little younger than you. You may follow him for a while and do the same duties as he does.”
“You will teach me the sword?”
To my surprise, he was looking at me and not his foster father. I nodded, “The three of us train the young warriors so, aye.”
“No, I would have you teach me. In Heiða-býr when men spoke of the Battle of Svolder and of the Battle of Dean, it was your name was mentioned more than any other. Karl Three Fingers says that you are the best swordsman he has ever seen. My father said anyone who wielded a dragon sword would have an advantage. Karl did not agree but he said nothing.”
His foster father said, without turning his head, “You will do as the other boys do. Sometimes it will be Hawk who trains you and sometimes Sweyn One Eye. If you are lucky then Sven Saxon Sword will teach you his skills. It will be many years until you need to use them! When we go to war, next year, you will be with the boys who use slings and bows. Can you use either?”
“No.”
“Then before you use a sword, we will show you how to be useful in battle and harass the enemy. You will also fetch ale skins and, if the battle appears to be going against us you will take my banner to the rear.”
Cnut was silent for the rest of the journey as he took in what would be a starkly different life than the one, he had enjoyed in Heiða-býr. Two miles from Agerhøne, Hawk was sent to warn Agnetha of our arrival. That he should have done so sooner showed that Sweyn Skull Taker’s mind was elsewhere. He had much to think about. The result of Hawk’s ride was that the servants and thralls were well presented when a possible King of Denmark dismounted. The jarl handed his reins to me, “Stable the pony and then you are done. I fear you and my sons will now have less time with your families and we have a princeling to watch.”
It was clear that he was not happy.
“Aye, jarl. He seems a malleable boy. It may not prove as difficult as you imagine.”
He gave a wry laugh, “I fear it will prove much harder than I imagine. There are problems I have not even considered. Taking a boy to war is hazardous enough, as you well know, but taking one of the king’s sons has no good side to it! The best we can hope is that he returns from the Exe whole! Tomorrow we will meet to work out a routine for him.”
When I reached my home Mary had heard the noise of our arrival. I told her of our new charge and, almost as an afterthought, about the attack planned for the next year.”
She looked wistfully at our sleeping son, “At least we have enjoyed a year without war, and I wonder at King Aethelred. Why does he poke the wolf?”
“I know not but you are right it was a foolish act, and it will bring more tears to the hearths of his warriors.”
Winter was not as bad in Denmark as it was further north but, as we settled down to train Cnut and the other young warriors for war and to prepare ourselves for battle, it was hard to face the morning with a wicked wind coming from the east, often bringing sleet and snow showers. It encouraged us to be active. Jarl Sweyn gave each of us one day a week when we would not be needed and that was more than I hoped for. Cnut was the youngest warrior we trained by some margin. Boys his age would normally have been used as ships’ boys, but we could not do that with Cnut. He was the king’s son and it would be too late for him to learn the skills. He was, in any case, slightly bigger than most who scurried up the lines and ropes. I gave him lessons with the bow and Hawk with the sling. When we went to war then the boys would often face the greatest risks and have to stand before our battle line to weaken the enemy. If that was Cnut’s fate, then he risked a short life!
Faramir, Gandálfr, Falmr, Snorri and the other warriors we had trained still attended when they could, and they joined the new warriors who had to endure all that they had. We knew that this time we would be attacking Exeter and so we practised making a moving wall of shields that would protect warriors who could hack at a palisade with an axe. The younger warriors were expendable, and it was they would have this duty. The hearth weru would be likely to be the ones who hacked and chopped at wooden walls. I was not looking forward to taking the town, but I knew that it would be the richest prize we had ever taken. Why else would Aethelred give it to his new bride?
Sweyn One Eye saw Cnut not only when we trained the new warriors but also each night. His own son was used to show Cnut his duties. It was a test of him as a future leader. He could have done as his own brother had done and made the life of Sweyn Sweynson a misery, but he did not. He was aware that the boy was in awe of him and treated him kindlier than one might have expected from the son of King Forkbeard. Lodvir spent much time visiting too but that was nothing to do with Cnut and all to do with the preparations. We had ten ships we would be taking including the new threttanessa, ‘Aksel’s Gift’. I was not sure it was an appropriate name for a drekar, but all the correct ceremonies and rituals had been in order and it was his money. Lodvir would sail it and Griotard would be promoted from sailing master to the captain of ‘Hyrrokkin’. I feared for my old friend for I was not sure that he would stay out of the fighting! When we trained the young warriors, I found that the old man had slowed and all but the most inexperienced could best him.
It had been more than a year since we had sailed and so every drekar was hauled from the water and we cleaned their hulls. That was a chastening experience for Cnut but as every male, including the jarl, was so occupied, he had little choice. This time we not only rid ourselves of the weed but applied a concoction that appeared to kill the worm which might otherwise eat out the keel. Finally, the wood was protected with pine tar. Although the most necessary of tasks it was the one we all hated. Whatever clothes we used would be ruined and the tar would still be found in our fingers a week after the work was done. It was as we did it that Thorstein gave the jarl the bad news that ‘Sea Serpent’ would not have many more voyages left in her for battle and age had both taken their toll.
On the day I had to myself I found that Gunhild was becoming more of a person and less of a mewling babe. She would recognise me and smile. The joy that brought was indescribable and I found myself surprised that I liked it so much. If she did not smile and reach for me I felt as though a Saxon had stabbed me with his seax. I know it was foolish, but she was my first born. I would walk with her, holding her two arms until I thought my back would break. She would giggle and laugh when we did so. I looked forward to the time that Steana would be old enough to do the same. I was gentle with Gunhild, but I knew that I would be rougher with my son. He would grow up in the harder world of boys. Gunhild would be protected and that was as it should be.
As we prepared to set sail, I sharpened my weapons. This time I would take the good sword I had captured before I had married Mary. I realised that I had the skills to use two swords. My long dagger, Norse Gutter, had been a revelation to me and, in some circumstances, of more use than a shield. I had made a second scabbard and Mary had woven a dragon design for the outside. I wore that one over my back. I packed my chest a week before we sailed so that I knew I had all that I needed. This time it would be hard for Hawk to leave for he had a wife and that wife was with child. He had entered the world of his brother and me. It showed for he was more serious and, when we trained the new warriors, he laughed less and chastised more. Frida would stay with Agnetha and she would be well looked after. Her father was off trading. He did not know exactly where we would be raiding but he knew that we would raid, and he could profit from it. He was not a warrior and he fought his wars with coins and knarr! When we returned then Hawk would take over as hersir of Ribe.
We had a farewell feast in the mead hall. It was all the warriors we would be taking. This time our ship would be fully crewed as would ‘Aksel’s Gift’ and ‘Hyrrokkin’. Agerhøne would have two hundred warriors when we fought the men of Exeter. Cnut did not sit and eat at the feast but joined the other ship’s boys who waited on us. It was a good way to be. That none of us abused our position showed what a wise choice King Forkbeard had made.
Cnut brought another large piece of cooked pig and the others were busily chopping hunks off it. As he stood to wait for the platter to be emptied, he chatted with me. I was happy for him to call me Sven rather than my full name and he and I often chatted easily. The Oathsword connection made that easier. “Sven, what do we eat on board a drekar? I have sailed on one but never for long. We cannot cook, can we?”
I smiled, “Not unless you wish a burnt boat! Let me see, we will have bread for the first few days. It will become staler but salty seawater makes it softer. We have pickled fish and dried meat and, of course, you and the other boys will have lines trailing astern and you will catch us fresh fish which we eat raw. Believe me that is the best of food! We will sail down the coast of Northumbria and Mercia. We can scavenge for shellfish. You will get used to the food and then, when we land, we eat whatever we can take!”
He took away the platter and returned with a dozen small fowl called pullets. I was fond of them and I took two. As he waited for the platter he asked, “And where will I sleep?”
We had discussed this, and the jarl wanted the princeling protected, “The three of us will use our chests and capes to make a den and you will sleep there with us. I do know it will not be as bad as it could be. Those who sleep close to Griotard the Grim will have to endure his snores and, even worse, his foul farts!” It made the boy laugh as I knew it would. I believed I had put his mind at rest.
It was Agnetha who had his chest made up. It was small enough to fit between Hawk’s and the gunwale. He would not be wearing mail and had no helmet so it could be smaller. He would not need to sit on it and Agnetha ensured that it had a sealskin cover to keep it dry. She was a caring woman.
At the feast, there were no songs and few drank to unconsciousness. It was just an opportunity in the peace and calm of the mead hall for men to tall of things other than war; their land and animals, their families; their hopes for the future. It was a time of reflection and once we left we would all adopt our war face the next time we met. Then would be the chance for bold songs and for a warlike demeanour. When we faced the Saxons and, possibly the Normans, then they would feel our full wrath. For us, it was nothing to do with avenging the dead of St Brice’s Day Massacre; we did not know those people. We were going to fight an enemy we despised and to take all from him so that we would be richer and they would be poorer. None of us might like King Sweyn Forkbeard but at least he was a proper king, one who led. When we assaulted Exeter, he would be there with us. I doubted that Aethelred would leave his fortress city of Lundenwic!
That night Mary lay in my arms. Steana had been satiated with the breast and slept. Anna lay in Gunhild’s chamber and my wife and I could whisper and cuddle. “As much as I do not like that you go to make war and to make war on my people, I cannot help but think that this weak king, what was it one of your jarls called him, a driveller? He has brought this upon himself. He has a choice with an enemy like you, he either fights or submits. It seems to me that he has done neither but, husband, and I know you will do as I implore, be not cruel. Do not kill for the sake of killing. Kill if you must but kill warriors.”
I kissed her, “And you know that is my way but do not try to make a Christian of me. Our children can be brought us so but when Steana is old enough he will stand in the shield wall and he will defend himself. To do anything else would mean his death.”
She kissed me back and there was a silence, until Mary’s words cut like a knife, “He could be a priest.”
“And if that was truly his choice then I would accept it. I would not be happy for I believe that our children will have the strength of us both within them and a priest would not be world enough for either of them. You enjoy the life of a lady do you not?”
“Aye, of course.”
“And your parents enjoyed such a life too?”
Her silence was eloquent, and she did not answer. Soon her breathing showed me that she was asleep. It was rare that I had the last word and I tried to remember how I had managed it.