CHAPTER 9

A cloth was stuffed into Finn’s mouth to gag him, his hands were tied behind his back and a rope was looped around his waist. Then he was turned around and his heart sank as he saw his captors for the first time. Two huge warriors flanked their cruel-looking leader.

“I wonder…” said the leader, running a hand across his black beard and scarred cheek. “Do you know who I am?”

Finn shook his head, wanting to give nothing away.

“Really? My name is Moldof.”

Finn shook his head again.

“A boy sent to do a man’s work,” mused Moldof. “Strange. Two boys tried to attack my ship on my last raid. And now another boy spies on my village. Strange, strange, strange. Perhaps you know my thralls?”

Moldof flashed a quick grin at Finn and waved to one of his men. “Ulf,” said Moldof, never taking his eyes off Finn, “I think our new friend would like to meet the thralls.” One of the warriors laughed and strode back up the hill.

Moldof went on. “Early in the morning my look-outs come to me. They tell me that a strange ship sails in from the sea, ready for battle. When they land, the warriors from the ship creep towards my village, hiding in the trees so that they can attack by surprise. I wonder what it is they want?”

Ulf returned, leading two cloaked figures on a rope.

“Take their hoods off,” said Moldof, still staring at Finn.

Finn knew what he was going to see, but nonetheless as the two hoods were thrown back to reveal two more gagged faces his shoulders sagged. Brand and Arthur stared back at him, looking thoroughly miserable.

“Just as I thought,” said Moldof. “Now, there’s something you should all see.” He grabbed the ropes that led from the boys’ waists and yanked them towards the top of the cliff, bringing them to a stop where Finn and Thorfinna had been waiting, just hidden from the village in the trees.

To Finn’s horror he saw that Hallvard and his men had emerged from hiding. There was still no sign of life in the village and Hallvard had evidently grown tired of waiting. Crouched and alert, Hallvard’s men advanced towards the houses.

“I am Hallvard Forkbeard,” the huge warrior cried. “I seek my son and his captor, Moldof. Show yourself!”

Moldof laughed menacingly.

“Show yourself and fight like a man!” Hallvard called again, banging his shield with his axe.

Moldof stepped forward to the top of the cliff. “Up here!” he yelled and at that moment the doors of several houses burst open and all hell broke loose. Suddenly the village was full of men, roaring terrible war cries.

The boys watched in horror as a savage battle played out in front of them. Screams of fear and pain mixed with bellows of anger as the men fought, brutally attacking each other and showing no mercy.

It was impossible to tell who was winning. There were no uniforms or flags, only huge warriors slaughtering and being slaughtered. But soon enough the balance of power became obvious. Men who Finn did not recognise began to turn and run, pursued by men he did recognise from the ship.

Hallvard turned to look up at the cliff top once more and roared, but the sound died in his throat as Moldof pulled the boys out from the trees and pushed them towards the edge of the cliff.

“Brand!” Hallvard cried, though the shout was swallowed by the groans of the dying. As he stood staring up at his son, his axe and shield fell from his hands. His legs crumpled and he fell to his knees. He did not see the injured man beside him bring out the knife. He did not feel it as it slid into his back. He barely moved as Ragnar speared his assailant.

The three boys stood at the top of the precipice looking down to the lethal rocks at the base of the cliff. Finn looked over at Moldof and saw him grinning insanely as he put his hands around Brand’s neck and lifted him off his feet to dangle over the drop. Brand kicked frantically and Moldof started to laugh again.

The sound was drowned out by a scream of pure rage. Moldof ’s man Ulf staggered forward and toppled over the edge of the cliff with an axe protruding from his back. Moldof dropped Brand who just managed to grab on to a corner of rock and hang precariously from the top of the cliff.

Arthur rushed to help him up. Finn turned as another scream of rage tore through the air. Thorfinna was pulling her sword out of the second man’s stomach as she kicked him to the ground. Her eyes were round with fury, her mouth flecked with foam and she turned to face Moldof who was circling warily, sword drawn.

“I remember you, girl,” he sneered. “I remember your parents also.”

Thorfinna seemed not to hear him. It was as if she were possessed. She flew at him, sword swinging, smashing blows down on him that seemed impossibly powerful for someone her size. Surprised, Moldof was driven backwards to the cliff. Thofinna lunged with the edge of her shield and caught Moldof square in the mouth. He staggered a short step backwards, catching his heel and beginning to topple. He dropped his sword and groaned.

Letting out one final terrible scream, Thorfinna drove her sword into Moldof ’s chest and let go. With a look of shock, Moldof fell backwards off the cliff and plunged down to the rocks below.

Thorfinna stared down at his motionless body and snarled. Then she picked up the sword Moldof had dropped and turned to the boys. Each of them flinched as she stepped towards them, still wide-eyed with rage. She sliced through the ropes that tied them and threw Moldof ’s sword to the ground at Brand’s feet. Her face full of fury. Thorfinna turned and rushed back towards the path.

The boys removed their gags. Finn and Arthur stared at one another, pale and shaking their heads.

“We’re still alive,” said Finn

“We were saved by a girl,” said Arthur.

“And she is a berserker,” said Brand, stooping down to pick up the sword. He looked at it fondly.

“Blood Hunter,” he breathed. “Arthur, Finn, with me. We must join the battle!” Before they had taken a step Ragnar burst from the trees and grabbed Brand’s arm.

“It is over, the victory is ours but you must come now. Your father has fallen. He does not have long to live.”

RAIDERS AND BERSERKERS

To start with, the point of raiding was simply for a group of men in one boat to steal as much treasure as possible in the summer and then get back home to the farm. In fact the word Viking probably means pirate in Norse, the Viking’s own language. These raids became known and feared all over Europe because the Vikings fought so fiercely.

Then they got more organised. They began to sail boats up rivers and attack whole cities, from York to Paris. They would attack and kill anyone who got in their way and take control of the city. They would steal whatever they could find. Then they would speak to the most powerful ruler nearby and ask for huge payments of gold and silver in return for leaving the city. People were so afraid of Viking warriors that they usually paid up.

The most feared of all Viking warriors were the berserkers. They wore bearskins or wolfskins instead of armour. Before going into battle they entered an eye-rolling, mouth-foaming frenzy and did crazy things like biting chunks out of their shields. Witnesses said that they fought with superhuman strength and did not feel pain from sword edges or fire.

Some say that berserkers are Odin’s own warriors and that he gives them this superhuman strength.