Viking Easter
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
On the day that Ragnar had chosen to take the fight back to King Harald’s men, Ivar had been in high spirits. The weather was fine and the sky clear, with a strong breeze blowing from the southeast, which made it ideal sailing conditions for the fleet he led up the fjord toward their target.
The first ships had already gone ashore as they neared the northern shoreline of the island, where the king’s fortresses were clustered around the small town of Hægebostadríðir. Their plan was simple: take the fortresses by surprise when the gates are open or while men were out on watch patrols; kill or capture those who could not be persuaded to surrender; plunder what there was of food stores within and then burn down all buildings except the sturdiest structures.
They would leave behind a few warriors to defend the town against any retaliation until reinforcements arrived from the surrounding countryside. It was unlikely, however, that this small group would last long once Harald realized what had happened.
Ivar was at the head of a line of eight ships. He stood beside one of his own, wearing a mail hauberk, leather jerkin over it, and helmet, with an axe strapped across his back and another in hand. His hair had been braided into three tight plaits atop his head, with two strands hanging freely around his face so they didn’t interfere with his vision.
His beard had also been carefully trimmed short. As always, when he was on the ship, his shield was carried before him, but today, instead of its normal bronze sheath, it sported a black wolf pelt. Its white teeth glittered in the sun when they flashed. In front of him stood a man named Sigvard, who would be acting as his shield wall sergeant, along with his shieldmen and archers.
Behind them came six other crews and behind these two lines of shields, a further ten crews rode in single file on horses borrowed from locals and friends of the family.
“Are you ready?” Ivar shouted up to Sigvard from below. “We don’t want them expecting us.”
Sigvard grinned at him and slapped him on the shoulder. “As ready as we’ll ever be,” he called back. “Let’s go.”
They had left early morning for the north shore, having first checked the coast for signs of Harald’s army. They had found none so far and now, as Ivar steered his ship closer toward the land, he saw why.
The king’s forces hadn’t moved away from the main town yet and were still camped near the beach where they had taken cover during the battle. The tide was still low and, though they would have to be careful when entering the bay, it seemed possible that the king’s ships might stay put too.
If not, well, no matter. The tide was coming up fast and soon even a large ship like this would find itself floating on top of the water.
“How far is it to the fortifications?” he asked Sigvard from behind his helm.
Sigvard turned back and studied the land. “Not much more than a mile,” he said after a moment. “But we will have to pass through some shallow water.”
He turned to look ahead and Ivar did likewise. They had reached a small spit of sand and the next step would be to enter the bay between that point and the town center. Then, beyond their reach, a wide stretch of the open sea stretched out to the northeast.
A stiff breeze blew from there across the strait. “That must make for choppy waters,” Ivar said, watching as the waves lapped onto the sand and began to build there, cresting higher and higher.
“You can say that again!” Sigvard called back.
Ivar smiled, knowing exactly how he felt. Even his own crew could feel the motion of the vessel under them and knew it would get worse as they got closer to the shallows. They watched, waiting as a wave broke in the middle of the sand spit, and then, as the water rushed over it and flowed off into deeper water, they heard shouts from the shore.
It wasn’t Harald’s voice, which would have been loud enough for them to hear even here, but rather that of one of his men. There was something about the tone that Ivar did not like and he signaled Sigvard to stop the ships. Sigvard brought the boat forward and pulled it to a halt, just off the sand. The others followed suit.
In the distance, men were gathered around a building that looked like it might have once been part of a farmstead. From the shape and color of its roof, Ivar suspected it was likely that of a storage shed, perhaps once used to store grain or hides for fattening sheep.
Now, though, its door hung open and its interior showed signs of recent looting. Men were moving in and out of it. Most wore the blue tunic of the king’s army, though a few appeared to be wearing red-and-white cloaks.
Two or three held torches, throwing the beam of light up and out into the darkening sky. Another group of soldiers stood near a pile of burning wood, while several others sat by the side of the structure eating what appeared to be roasted meat. Their conversation was loud as if they knew they would draw attention to themselves.
Then suddenly, all fell silent as the sound of a horn echoed from the hills behind the town.
“They are calling for aid,” Sigvard said quietly, looking at the approaching shore. “If we had waited until nightfall, we might have avoided them entirely. Now we’ll need to fight our way in. We’ve only got five bows so we won’t be able to use most of these shields as we try to shoot arrows down into the crowd, which means we need those on the beach to keep them back and protect us.”
He glanced over at Ivar. “And if things go wrong …”
“We’ll do everything in our power to avoid any bloodshed,” Ivar replied with an edge in his voice. “No matter who starts it.”
The horns continued to call for help and now, in the growing darkness, a second group came running from the opposite end of the beach. This band bore spears and swords and carried torches, which they threw into the air and then lit up the shore like a bonfire. They ran along the shore and then disappeared into the gathering gloom.
The third set of horns sounded, further inland from where Ivar’s men were waiting. Again, they sounded the alarm and Ivar knew without a doubt that it would not be long before Harald and the rest of his forces arrived.
“Do you think they have seen us?” Ivar asked Sigvard.
“Hard to say,” he answered, turning to face him. “Let’s hope that’s not the case and that they haven’t spotted us. If they see us, all our planning will come to naught. But I suspect this is just a warning.” He nodded ahead. “We’ll wait no longer.”
His heart pounding, he took a deep breath and stepped out from behind his shield and helmet, revealing himself. “We have come for the aid of the King,” he shouted loudly.
There was little response but a few shouts from the soldiers at the edge of the forest. “Who? Who has come?” one man yelled back. His voice echoed in the distance.
“Harald son of Olafson! You’ve come for aid!”
Another shout came back from farther away. “Is this true? Is Harald here?”
Ivar waved Sigvard’s signal flag toward the shore and Sigvard responded with a similar sign. Then Sigvard raised his hand high, signaling everyone to prepare, while another signal went up from the ship’s mast. One of the sailors had already lowered it, hanging it from a line so that it would be ready to drop when the time came.
A moment later, the sails were filled and the men pushed the oars hard against the current of water coming in across the sand bar. As Ivar’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make out the outlines of some of his crew, as well as Sigvard’s, holding their weapons ready.
Some of them had drawn their bows and were aiming them at the crowd surrounding the building. Others moved forward to take up positions on either side of the landing point. A handful of men remained behind to watch for any enemy ships that might approach from out at sea.
Now it was time for Ivar’s men to put into action what they had rehearsed over and over again aboard the ship. The only thing that worried me was how many of the enemies there might be. It was possible that they were outnumbered more than ten to one. But if we fought together
The End