Viking Spirit
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I stood on the bow of my ship. It was a sunny morning and I could see nothing but white snow in front of me, as far as my eye could reach. The sky was a deep blue and the sun’s light had melted the frost away from the trees at our side.
We were moving fast through the forest with a great swooshing sound that came up around us as we cut between two tall trees to emerge onto open ground. I turned back and saw the ship behind us, its sail full in the wind and looking like it was floating along easily.
The Norsemen on board with me looked so happy as they moved about, pulling their oars in line and bringing them back into place. Some sang as others worked, and one man was beating his drum rhythmically.
Even the captain, who was steering the boat, seemed content as he watched us come closer to shore. He had been worried when he first sighted the island, not because of any threat of attack but because there was something familiar about this place. Something he hadn’t seen since last summer when he led his fleet out here to raid a Frankish monastery.
As we drew closer to the shoreline I could hear shouting and screaming from ahead of us. There were shouts too from some men on the ship. They looked scared and excited all at once. One of them, whose name I did not know, shouted for the helmsman to turn back towards the mainland as fast as he could. I heard him say: “They’ve found what they’re after.”
It wasn’t until I had turned back to look behind me again that I realized what those cries meant. As soon as the helmsman turned us around the ship started to move faster; a few more turns and we were speeding backward out into the open sea. I heard a voice shout: “No! Don’t let us leave!”
Then there was silence except for the sound of water lapping against the hull. Then another voice, louder than the rest said: “Let’s get back to where we are supposed to go. Back to our homes before it’s too late.”
“You’re right,” I replied, although I didn’t really think that this was going to be the case. The Vikings had never been known to give up anything without a fight. But the men on board were just frightened by what they had seen.
A few moments later we pulled into a small bay and tied off the lines. Then I went down into the hold and brought the skipper aboard. I had no idea why he wanted to stop at all. If he’d wanted to get out of trouble he would have sailed straight into the harbor and surrendered himself to the local king.
He didn’t seem to care if he had to face death, which I thought was strange. And then again perhaps he was thinking the same thing as me. That the people who lived on these islands were just ordinary folk and would accept whatever punishment he gave them.
After all, we had come across other lands and raided them for years now and never faced any real opposition, apart from being chased away or beaten off. This time we had done nothing wrong.
When I stepped back aboard and sat down I saw that most of the Norsemen on board had also come down and joined me. There were thirty of them in all, mostly big strong warriors, but with some old men among them who had fought beside their fathers and grandfathers.
All eyes were fixed upon the shore as we waited for a response from the people who lived there. But after ten minutes had passed I knew it would be a while longer before anyone appeared from the settlement.
Eventually, the helmsman stood up on deck and called to the men who had come down the ladder to join us. “Get ready to set sail,” he called, over the din of the surf breaking on the beach. “We must hurry. We don’t want to waste the good weather.”
I looked down at the water, trying to decide how far out from shore we needed to stay to avoid getting caught by the tide. The helmsman was right: we had a lot of sailing left to do. My mind was focused on the task of navigating our way through the channel of sandbars that formed at low tide, and I wasn’t paying much attention to anything else.
Suddenly I felt an odd tingling sensation and a sense of unease spread throughout my body. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed this, but nobody had. Yet every one had gone quiet. It was like the moment when the air goes still and you know something is about to happen.
A dark shape was coming into view, moving rapidly towards us across the water. For a second I wondered whether it was some kind of monster from the deep waters that I’d only heard stories about. Then I realized that the shape was that of a longship, which carried armed men upon her decks. It was hard to tell because it was so close that it was difficult to make out any details. I stared intently as she came nearer, straining my eyes to catch one glimpse of a man, but it seemed that even the sun did not shine in his eyes.
There were shouts and screams of fear on board the ship that was drawing near to us. I could understand that. We had attacked their ship and killed two of their men; they had every reason to feel frightened.
In fact, the cries sounded as though they were coming from children or women rather than men-at-arms. And then I saw the faces of the men on their ships and realized why they looked so terrified. Some of them were crying. Others were looking away as if they couldn’t bear to watch what was happening.
“That’s King Harald’s ship!” someone shouted, pointing to it. “They’re afraid of King Harald! They should be happy. We’ve done them a favor.”
And yet we hadn’t. Not exactly. If I’d been given the chance to choose between facing Harald or dying at sea I would have chosen the former. As much as I hated the idea of surrender, this was the only way out of trouble that we had.
“Do something,” one of the crew members said quietly. “Stop him. Let’s go back home.”
But there was no sign of any reaction from me. Even as the ship came closer I was trying to focus on the features of the man riding his ship. But it was no use. Like the others, he was shrouded in shadow and so impossible to make out clearly.
The longship slid up alongside us and ropes were thrown overboard to secure our ships together. The longships had been drawn close enough to touch one another.
Then I realized what was going on.
It had happened before. Many times, in many places. When we had captured other ships and brought their crews to trial. Usually, they chose death rather than accepting the consequences of fighting us. So what was different this time?
Perhaps it had something to do with the people who lived on these islands. Their gods might not be the same as ours. Or perhaps there was simply nothing here for them anymore. Maybe they had already abandoned whatever hope they had of defeating us.
I was too shocked to move until a hand was placed gently upon my arm. “You can’t just sit there,” Einar told me. “He wants to speak to you. Come down with us and we’ll help.”
I nodded silently and went down to where the sailors were tying our ships together. I didn’t need to look to know who was standing on the deck of that ship. His black hair made him easy to spot. His eyes looked out at the land that we had left behind and his face was as expressionless as ever.
There were three or four guards around him, and more were hanging around below decks, waiting. It was clear that he was in charge of this expedition. I tried to recall every detail about the man and what I had seen during the fight, hoping that I would have a chance later to try to kill him again. But it all seemed hopelessly distant now.
Harald turned to his guards and spoke softly as if telling a child off for misbehaving. He pointed towards me with a finger, then looked straight ahead as though expecting me to walk forward. I could hear a few of the men sniggering under their breaths.
“This one’s the king’s nephew,” someone whispered to me. “His father died when he was young. This is a good opportunity for the old king to show off his new son.”
King Harald was speaking to me alone, without any of his companions present. He did not seem to be worried about being overheard. He was standing in the bow of his ship so that he could see everyone on ours and vice versa. That meant we were able to see him, too, although there was nothing unusual about the sight of his tall, broad-shouldered frame or the golden crown on his head.
As soon as I stepped onto the deck, Harald turned his attention to me. “What’s your name, boy?” he asked, looking me over as if he were inspecting an animal at the market.
I hesitated. Why would this man want to know my name? Hadn’t he just tried to kill me? “Einar,” I answered finally.
He smiled slightly. “I like that.” Then he turned to a couple of the crewmen behind him and ordered them to take me to where I could wash and change into some decent clothing. I wondered how many of the clothes they would give me belonged to dead enemies and whether they would expect me to pay a fee for them, as well as a toll for passage across the seas.
“Don’t worry,” Harald told me after the men had disappeared up the gangplank with my kit. “We don’t bite. Well, not too hard anyway. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”
A small group of people from both sides were watching us while they waited for our ships to join together. They stared at me as I walked along beside Harald. I felt uncomfortable in their gaze, unsure why the people of Norway should be staring at me with such obvious hatred in their eyes.
I had never seen a white man before; only dark skin that reminded me of charcoal and soot. I knew nothing of their customs and culture, but they looked nothing like the people of my homeland. I was sure they had once worshipped the same gods that we did, but now they worshiped something else entirely.
Their eyes were filled with greed, lust, envy, rage, and hate. It was as if they were possessed by demons. I wondered how they would react to us when we met them on the battlefield. Would they still choose death over surrendering to the enemy? Or would we have the upper hand because we had been raised as barbarians?
“You must be hungry,” Harald said as we reached the end of the ramp. “There are fresh bread and fish stew ready for you. We’ll send the steward down with some food.”
“I am,” I answered, wondering how long it had taken these men to make the journey from Norway. And why they had risked coming out here, risking the dangers of storms or attacks by pirates instead of just returning home to wait for reinforcements or to raise support back in Norway.
The hall was huge. The roof was supported by heavy wooden beams, painted white, so that sunlight shone through. There was no fire burning in the hearth but I could smell smoke rising from somewhere above.
A group of servants was setting up a table in front of a large window overlooking the sea. As I watched, they laid down a thick layer of straw which was then drenched with water from a bucket. The straw was smothered by the wet stuff and set alight with a match that had been struck against a stone. It took only minutes for the flames to consume the straw completely.
“It’s a bit smoky, isn’t it?” Harald said, smiling. “That’s what happens when they burn the wood. We can’t afford to have anyone choking on the fumes.” He laughed at himself quietly.
“Is that how you cook?” I asked, pointing at the smoke.
“Oh no,” he replied. “We have kitchens below. They keep the air clean so you don’t choke to death.”
They were preparing a meal of roast hare and boiled potatoes on sticks. Both smelled delicious as the aroma filled the room. In fact, it seemed to be the best smell I had ever encountered. I was surprised that I didn’t already feel the pangs of hunger as I stood there watching.
“Come sit at my table,” Harald said as the servants left. He waved at one of the men who appeared to be his personal servant. “Bring us some food, boy.”
The servant bowed low to Harald and headed toward the door, pausing to look back at me. “Your food will be right here shortly,” he said, waving his arm around me in the direction of the table. “But first, you might enjoy a cup of wine.”
Harald chuckled at this. “No thanks,” he said. “We’re going to be sailing for some time yet and I’ve only got enough aboard this ship for myself. But tell him to bring more beer.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Was he being cruel or merely showing off? I chose the latter. “Beer,” I repeated. “Yes, I’ll drink that.”
“Very good,” Harald said. “And get another tray of drinks for the others who are waiting to eat.”
I had no idea who those other guests were. I tried not to stare, but my curiosity got the better of me and I glanced at the faces of the men who were standing at the opposite end of the hall. One, in particular, caught my eye, and I felt a surge of heat race through my body.
His hair was tied up neatly under a black leather cap and he wore a short-sleeved tunic that exposed his muscular arms and shoulders. His skin was pale as milk, and I imagined what it would feel like on mine.
The End