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Authors: Giles Kristian
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magic because he was old and skinny and had fought with Sigurd’s father and yet was somehow still alive when stronger men were not.
‘Oars in!’ Sigurd yelled. We moved like a squall, pulling the oars back through the ports and stowing them with a thump and clatter before stuffing leather plugs into the holes. Now I got my chance to see what was happening. Fjord-Elk was all seething panic. Ealdred must have recognized Jörmungand and known then that Sigurd had come for him and if he had any sense at all he must have been terrified. His steersman had changed course, trying to take the ship out of our path and into the open channel. He might as well have been hoping for a boatload of young virgins to carry him away on a ship made of silver and gold. If they had seen us earlier they might have stood some chance, though not much of one. As it stood, our prow would strike Fjord-Elk amidships, and when that happened corpses would be made.
I gripped my spear tight enough for the knuckles to whiten, for I did not think that ramming the other ship would be a good thing for anyone. I could see faces now, perhaps even Ealdred standing at Fjord-Elk ’s stern. I took a deep, stuttering breath and glanced at Sigurd, thinking that being amongst that clamour without clamouring myself was somehow like being underwater.
‘Now, Knut!’ Sigurd roared, dropping his arm, his eyes suddenly wild. Knut pushed the tiller and Serpent heeled violently so that some of us fell and I looked back just as our hull sent a wave crashing into Fjord-Elk with enough force to rock her like a child’s cradle and send the crew reeling.
‘Kill them!’ Sigurd screamed, hurling his spear into the panicked press of the enemy who were desperately trying to arm themselves.
‘Gut the leaking-arsed mares, you blood-loving wolves!’Olaf bellowed, throwing his own spear, which took a huge, grey-haired man in the face. We all screamed and hurled our spears and it was devastating, for when a man with shoulders of iron from years of rowing launches a spear it is not always stopped by flesh; sometimes it tears right through the body. Our enemies had been under sail on a level sea with no reason to expect trouble, so were not wearing mail, and now there was a desperate press by Fjord-Elk ’s shallow hold as they clamoured and brawled to get to the weapons stowed there. With the enemy packed so tightly it was hard for us to miss and blood-soaked screams rent the dawn. In the crush some of the Wessexmen tried to use each other as shields. Black Floki and Bram already had two grappling hooks biting into Fjord-Elk ’s hull and they grimaced as they heaved on the ropes to pull the ships together. Osk and Arnvid threw two more hooks. Osk’s did not catch but Arnvid’s did and Bjarni gripped that rope with him and hauled. Once the grappling hooks were in the wood the only chance the enemy had was if they cut the ropes, which was no easy thing with spears streaking amongst them like lightning bolts. Three white-faced, wide-eyed Wessexmen stood at the stern, drawing bows and sending arrows into us, but the ships were rocking in the fray enough to spoil their aim. Still, one or two hammered into us, bouncing off shields or glancing off brynjas as the ships came together with a thump.
The Norsemen roared and that sound was thunder. Sigurd was the first to leap across, battering two Wessexmen with his shield and taking a third in the neck with his sword. All along Serpent ’s length, Norsemen jumped, axes and swords swinging, carving into Fjord-Elk ’s unprepared crew, and I jumped after Penda, slipping on Fjord-Elk ’s deck which was already blood-slick. A man jabbed a spear at my chest but I met the blade with my shield and scythed my sword into his shoulder where it stuck like a knife in a tough joint of meat. He screamed and Irammed my left boot into his belly, doubling him over, and the blade came free so I whomped it down into his skull. It was easy killing. The
‘Oars in!’ Sigurd yelled. We moved like a squall, pulling the oars back through the ports and stowing them with a thump and clatter before stuffing leather plugs into the holes. Now I got my chance to see what was happening. Fjord-Elk was all seething panic. Ealdred must have recognized Jörmungand and known then that Sigurd had come for him and if he had any sense at all he must have been terrified. His steersman had changed course, trying to take the ship out of our path and into the open channel. He might as well have been hoping for a boatload of young virgins to carry him away on a ship made of silver and gold. If they had seen us earlier they might have stood some chance, though not much of one. As it stood, our prow would strike Fjord-Elk amidships, and when that happened corpses would be made.
I gripped my spear tight enough for the knuckles to whiten, for I did not think that ramming the other ship would be a good thing for anyone. I could see faces now, perhaps even Ealdred standing at Fjord-Elk ’s stern. I took a deep, stuttering breath and glanced at Sigurd, thinking that being amongst that clamour without clamouring myself was somehow like being underwater.
‘Now, Knut!’ Sigurd roared, dropping his arm, his eyes suddenly wild. Knut pushed the tiller and Serpent heeled violently so that some of us fell and I looked back just as our hull sent a wave crashing into Fjord-Elk with enough force to rock her like a child’s cradle and send the crew reeling.
‘Kill them!’ Sigurd screamed, hurling his spear into the panicked press of the enemy who were desperately trying to arm themselves.
‘Gut the leaking-arsed mares, you blood-loving wolves!’Olaf bellowed, throwing his own spear, which took a huge, grey-haired man in the face. We all screamed and hurled our spears and it was devastating, for when a man with shoulders of iron from years of rowing launches a spear it is not always stopped by flesh; sometimes it tears right through the body. Our enemies had been under sail on a level sea with no reason to expect trouble, so were not wearing mail, and now there was a desperate press by Fjord-Elk ’s shallow hold as they clamoured and brawled to get to the weapons stowed there. With the enemy packed so tightly it was hard for us to miss and blood-soaked screams rent the dawn. In the crush some of the Wessexmen tried to use each other as shields. Black Floki and Bram already had two grappling hooks biting into Fjord-Elk ’s hull and they grimaced as they heaved on the ropes to pull the ships together. Osk and Arnvid threw two more hooks. Osk’s did not catch but Arnvid’s did and Bjarni gripped that rope with him and hauled. Once the grappling hooks were in the wood the only chance the enemy had was if they cut the ropes, which was no easy thing with spears streaking amongst them like lightning bolts. Three white-faced, wide-eyed Wessexmen stood at the stern, drawing bows and sending arrows into us, but the ships were rocking in the fray enough to spoil their aim. Still, one or two hammered into us, bouncing off shields or glancing off brynjas as the ships came together with a thump.
The Norsemen roared and that sound was thunder. Sigurd was the first to leap across, battering two Wessexmen with his shield and taking a third in the neck with his sword. All along Serpent ’s length, Norsemen jumped, axes and swords swinging, carving into Fjord-Elk ’s unprepared crew, and I jumped after Penda, slipping on Fjord-Elk ’s deck which was already blood-slick. A man jabbed a spear at my chest but I met the blade with my shield and scythed my sword into his shoulder where it stuck like a knife in a tough joint of meat. He screamed and Irammed my left boot into his belly, doubling him over, and the blade came free so I whomped it down into his skull. It was easy killing. The
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