Jarl Dragonheart has unfinished business. Some of his men are missing in the heart of Wales and he has to punish the Hibernians who killed his daughter and her family in Dyflin. With a handful of Ulfheonar and untried warriors he sets sail to see the men he lost. The Weird Sisters have been spinning and his path is not a straight one. It will take him from Wales to Lundenwic, the land of the East Angles Dyflin and culminate in Om Walum. He will lose oathsworn during the journey and his family will be threatened. He will have to fight the powers of darkness as they try to entrap the warrior who wields the sword touched by the gods. The Dragonheart may be old but so long as he draws breath he will fight for his family, his clan and his land. He is a Viking!
Dragonheart is getting old but he is a Viking. His recent brush with death has made him stronger. He has a land to protect and it is time for him to choose his heir but first he has unfinished business. The men who went to search for the blue stones have not returned. Before he can help his family he has an obligation to discover their fate.
Excerpt
I must have fallen asleep for when Haaken One Eye woke me it was dark.
He yawned as he said, “Lundenwic is asleep.”
“Did the Danes come?”
“Not yet but I sense that it will not be long. Bergil and his half of the crew are on watch.”
I stood. Perhaps it was the fact that I had slept longer than I had expected but I was a little unsteady on my feet. I put my hand to the gunwale on the steerboard side. I glanced over and saw three small drekar. They were river boats. They were approaching us with purpose. It was the Danes! I hissed, “Danes! Get the men to this side.” I grabbed a spear as Haaken scurried down the drekar to wake up the sleeping crew. I saw Sven Ship Sealer. “Bring Bergil and his men but do so silently.”
I could have shouted the alarm but I wanted the Danes destroying. The three boats had been packed with men. There were sixty or so Danes coming. Olaf and Aðils were the first to join me. Aðils had an arrow nocked. Olaf grinned as he swung his axe. I drew the sword that was touched by the gods and we waited. Men appeared like wraiths alongside us and gradually the steerboard side filled up. There was a slight bump as the first of the small drekar pulled next to us. They would have to leave men sculling in order for the boats to stay next to our hull. As the first hand came up I shouted, “Now!”
Olaf swung his axe and severed the hands of the first man. He screamed as he fell backwards. He crashed into the boat sending two men into the river. I leaned over and swung my sword. I connected with the side of a Danish head. Aðils sent an arrow into the man at the steering board of the nearest ship. As he fell overboard his dying hand dragged the board with him and allowed the current to tug it away from the side of our ship. Those who were clambering up the side of our drekar slipped into the river. As they fell the drekar tipped and began to ship water. It would soon sink. The men who wore helmets and had swords at their sides would die. Their only chance was to rid themselves of helmets, swords and daggers. When they did that they would be helpless. Aðils switched targets and began to loose at the steering boards of the other ships. Some Danes had managed to get aboard our drekar. I ran towards Rollo who was using his sword to great effect.
Shouting, “Ragnar’s Spirit!” I raised my sword and brought it down on the Dane who was trying to stab Rollo in the side. His sword actually touched Rollo’s mail but the metal byrnie held and I split open the Danish skull. When Ráðgeir Ráðgeirson brought his men from the wharf it was all over. Those still alive discarded helmets and weapons and threw themselves into the river. They would take their chances with Ran! Bergil and his brothers were like men possessed. They hewed, stabbed and slashed. Soon the only Danes left on the drekar were dead ones. We heard cries and frantic splashing as Danes tried to reach the south bank. They failed.
As we walked along the deck, despatching the ones who were not quite dead, I heard Bergil complaining, “Give me a decent sized Dane or I will never find any mail to fit me!”
For some reason that made me laugh and I clapped him on the shoulder, “When we reach Cyninges-tūn I will have Bagsecg make you a byrnie and it will fit! It might take all the iron we possess but it will be done.”
