Authors: Vincent Atherton
The time passes slowly. I know it is my duty as the head of the household to provide for the women and perhaps even make us all rich if I can find something really valuable. They are depending on me now that I am the only surviving male in a household with three women to support.
We sit uncomfortably and miserably in our boat, saying little but waiting impatiently. Occasionally a warrior sharpens his sword. Suddenly one swings his axe in practise, and then again, until he is told abruptly to stop. He is in danger of unintentionally decapitating one of his neighbours, none of whom are at all impressed by his stupid behaviour. The mood is tense and everyone is on edge. A sullen silence hangs over the whole crew
The time passes slowly. We have all made vows to protect and support each other in battle, and if necessary to die in order to rescue and protect our fellow warriors. Fortunately we have not sworn to be good-natured or polite to each other, as those vows would undoubtedly be broken in times like these. Tempers are becoming easily frayed. Although fights are common between the warriors on land, no one will break ranks in the boat since these are circumstances where we have to stay united before the raid. There is, however, a lot of muttering and cursing, much of it bad tempered.
Although the time passes slowly, it does pass, and we can see that the sun is a little further along its track, although it is still a long way from setting in the west. There are gulls wheeling around above us, looking for anything that might fall from the boat. We are not pleased to see them, as anything that might give away our position is unwelcome, although we know it would be only a very wary foe that looked for such small signs as thoroughly as we do. We are all trained to look for such signs and to detect the presence of enemies.
Like a few others I take the chance to comb my hair, using the beautifully made antler comb I bought on Fish Shambles Street, when there still was a Fish Shambles Street. It allows me to find a few of the head lice who often live with me, and I crush them under my thumb.
Many Vikings own such items as we place a great value on personal hygiene. Everyone must bathe once a week which is usually a very uncomfortable experience as it is almost always cold water. Maybe in late summer the water can be a comfortable temperature but otherwise it is an unwelcome chore. In winter it is a rare treat to heat up some stones in the fire and then drop the stones into a bucket to give hot water to wash in. We also regularly wash our hair in urine and then comb it to control those lice, which we are constantly battling with.
In the quiet of the fading afternoon, with time passing slowly, and the water lapping gently against the boat my mind drifts back to memories of our lost home. Inside the settlement, the areas were divided by wattle fences with many long rectangular buildings, with walls that were also made from wattle and daub. Externally the buildings had rounded corners and a single door. Around twenty people lived in each house, along with our animals in winter. Having the animals with us was very necessary as they heated the buildings, which were our only refuge from the cold. These were very strong houses with huge timber joists holding their frames together. These frames lasted for many decades, longer with good maintenance, though the turf roof needed to be renewed every few years. No one is likely to do it now.
Our houses lay within a very large d-shaped enclosure with the river as the straight edge, and there was also a brook helping to protect the eastern boundary, with a large tidal pool just before it reached the main river. The richest people lived on the higher ground, and although it did not flood more than twice a year, when it did it was devastating to our lives, and the waterlogged ground made our lives uncomfortable even without a full flood.
Beyond the settlement there were often over 200 longboats drawn up along the banks of the river. It was a spectacular sight and an indication of the size and power of the town. The largest fleet that I have ever seen and maybe the largest I will ever see again. Most of those boats were made there, and only a few remained of the ships that had first brought our people here. These were the source of all our wealth and centre of our hopes, since they often reached Scandinavia or the lands of the Saxons or Franks and brought us wealth through our trading.
In a calm situations like these waiting for action, we have a lot of time to think not just of our past, but it's also a good time to think of death which has already passed so very close to us, and still remains a constant possibility. A warrior's death is a good death though and will let us meet the Valkyrie as Erik did, and sit beside Woden in Valhalla. It is a much better death than those who die of disease or old age as they cannot make it to Valhalla but will be sent to live in the dark, cold and wet world of Niflheim where they will be ruled over by the hideous goddess Hel, who has the appearance of a rotting corpse.
Since we might be close to death all warriors have carefully cut their fingernails. On the final day before the destruction of the world, which we know as Ragnarok, the giant Hrim will sail over the land using a ship made from the untrimmed nails of the dead, to attack and defeat the gods and thus bring about the destruction of the earth. All of us are being careful to ensure our fingernails will not provide him with any more material for his ship if we should fall. That might give Hrim the ability to bring forward the date of Ragnarok.
Not only time is moving on. The tide is moving too and it has carried us further away from the bay. It's not such a bad thing, since every sailor knows that deeper water is safer. Not just because it gets us away from the rocks and sand banks but also as it ensures that we will still stay invisible to the people on the shore.
The time passes slowly, but it does pass. When Ragnald can finally see that the sun is close to setting he gives the order to disengage the boats and the raft separates into the four individual drakken again. We have an hour or more of slow, gentle rowing towards the cliffs with their smoking fires; we have no need to move quickly, and every reason to move quietly.
When we stop again, much closer to the cliffs, the light has really started to fail. As we are east of the shore it will not be as easy for us to be seen in the gathering darkness as the sun sets and the cliffs cast their long shadow over us. It is nearly time to attack.
Under the cliffs the wind drops and the sea is much flatter. The long tedium of the afternoon is forgotten now as we prepare for the raid and morale is higher, with excitement mounting. The rowing has already warmed us, and the adrenalin of anticipation flows in our veins as the boat crunches onto the sand. We are ready to go raiding! The Vikings have arrived, and we will soon be dealing out death and will have our plunder, just as Thor intends! I touch the hammer amulet around my neck to acknowledge my need for Thor's assistance.
The group goes across the beach as silently as we can and find a well used path that leads gently up the cliff, and which must certainly lead us to the village. We are more than a hundred strong men but we can still move very quietly, almost silently, up the path in the twilight. No one in the village seems to be aware of our presence and we are covered by the trees branching over the path. There is complete darkness now, really intense on such a cloudy night, there is no moon or stars to cast even a half light on our activities. That lack of light hindered us as we came ashore, but it is very much to our advantage now. We reach the top of the cliff and, glancing back can see across the bay and just make out the boats that carried us beached below. Just four warriors were left to safeguard them, and they are four very unhappy men as they will miss the action with its best chances of plunder.
Ahead of us we can see the glow of fires and hear the contented murmur of happy people chatting over their evening meal. It represents a very placid, happy domestic scene, but as we are clearly very close to them now things are about to change dramatically for them. As we reach the outskirts of their village we are crawling on our stomachs to avoid detection and spread out to allow more of our warriors to get into place before we rush them. We intend to minimise the resistance by taking them completely by surprise.
All of the warriors have reached the top of the cliff and are spread around the perimeter of the village, but Ragnald is still not content with our positioning. I am told to lead ten warriors and we are sent to the far side, so as to rush the villagers from another angle. This will spread more confusion, and make it even more difficult for them to escape. It is difficult to achieve this without being seen and we have to crawl very slowly on our bellies all of the way. It takes time, care and immense patience. Once we are in place another ten go slowly to another side of the village and then yet another group of ten to the other side. Now everyone is in place and we are ready for the assault.
Ragnald rises to his feet to launch the attack with a blood curdling scream, hurling his huge body forward and waving his warriors onward, the terrifying boar's head banner held high above him. That scream even terrifies me so it must really bring sheer terror to the villagers who are not expecting anything to disturb their peaceful evening activities. I rise too and urge my men forward as all of the remaining Vikings then rise together and rush forward, swords and axes in hand and smite out at any and every man they find, killing many in the first few minutes or so. It is chaos and hysteria, but we are brutally and efficiently killing very many of our unarmed victims without any danger to ourselves in return. The women and children are terrified, screaming and running around but they are surrounded and can find no route to escape. We do not want to lose any of them; they have great value as slaves.
The attack is over in only three or four minutes and we have achieved a complete victory without taking any casualties. No man of the village got the time to find weapons or to offer any resistance, which is why none of our men have been hurt in any way. The bodies of the slain are strewn around the village, many still breathing and often groaning in great pain. All are surrounded by great pools of red blood which continues to ooze onto the ground around them. It is a gruesome and horrific sight.
Now it is time to gather the screaming, hysterical women together in a huddle, a few men have survived the flailing swords and are attempting to hide among the women. They are quickly found and dragged roughly out of the crowd by their hair and finished off, despite the screams and resistance of the women. One young boy is protected by a group of young women but to no avail. The warriors strike out angrily at the women with their swords and several receive terrible wounds. The boy is soon dragged off and his throat brutally cut.
One of the girls, a tall and very pretty woman with raven black hair, rushes towards these warriors with rage and anger showing in her wild eyes. I grab her and pull her back and throw her to floor, I would spare her the death that is so close to her now if I can. Any of the others would have simply stabbed her. Her eyes turn on me and she jumps at me, her nails scratching at my face. I throw her down again and hold up my hand to calm her. The other women pull her back; they can see that her actions are futile and that I have helped her by stopping her impetuous rush. Our eyes meet and there is a great deal of confused emotion passing between us.
Maybe she is trying to transmit hatred towards me for being part of the group killing their men, maybe she is accepting that I have helped her survive and is conveying thanks, or maybe it is the heat of sexual attraction moving between us with our blood flowing hot in our veins. I know that I feel attracted to her, and find myself getting an erection in the middle of the battle. I hope no one will notice but I can feel the heat as my face reddens under my helmet.
A number of us are detailed to stand guard over these women; Ragnald picks me out again for this responsibility, which is again the least popular job when the others will be looting all of the huts for food, drink or anything of value. We who are left guarding will get little plunder or even nothing, and it is not an easy job as the traumatised women are very determined to escape if they can! I look for the agitated maiden, although she is not to be seen right now I feel sure that we will meet again. I certainly intend to claim her as my prize when the slaves are divided between us, whatever Aud might feel about that.
Soon there is great merriment among the victorious Vikings as they find a large amount of good food and, even better, a large amount of good mead to drink. All of us, even the guards, get to take part in a great feast with a lot of drink. After the bitter taste of defeat at Dyflinn this is sweet indeed, like a great party and we all take part, eating and drinking our fill. The guarding is soon forgotten completely and we guards also gather our share of the loot, in particular many leather goods and hides.
There is a price to pay for the drunken party though, and it soon obvious that all of our captives have managed to run away. Too late I rally the guards to take care of their captives but the last are already running down the hill. As they disappear I can see the tall and very pretty woman with raven black hair glaring back over her shoulder at me. Is she trying to communicate with me? Does she want me to return to find her?
I am tempted to run and follow her, to try and get her to stay with me, but I know that would be dangerous. We are only safe here, in hostile territory, while we are together.
We will take no slaves this night now and there had been many available to us, mostly young, strong and of good quality too including lots of young girls. The girls, in particular, would have fetched a very good price if we could have got them to our former trading centre in Dalkey and a better price still back in the Baltic in Birka or Gotland. Maybe there will be new places closer by where we can sell them now that Dalkey is finished as a trading centre, though we do not yet know where they are. Realistically we could not have taken many slaves with us in just our four small boats and so perhaps it is not such a huge loss as it first appears.