Jarl Dragonheart is ill; he is dying. He has a worm, deep within him and neither Kara nor Aiden, his healers can help him. He is forced to take a small handpicked crew and sail to the Eastern Roman Empire at Miklagård. Storms, the Norns, pirates and treachery all conspire to stop the Dragonheart reaching the only man who can save him. With his great grandson, Sámr, the last of the Ulfheonar and his galdramenn, Aiden, the Dragonheart must battle to save himself and then his land.
I know that many readers wonder that Dragonheart is still alive. He is old. He has lived longer than he should and yet the sword that was touched by the gods seems to keep him alive. The trouble is he does not know the purpose of his life. When he discovers that he is ill, more, he is dying then he has a choice to make. Does he just lie down and die or does he seek a warrior’s death. This novel takes us on a journey with the Dragonheart. It takes him to the Eastern Roman Empire but it also take us into the heart and the soul of this enigmatic Viking warrior.
Excerpt
I watched the leading galley. It was closing. Aiden had tempted the Norns. Their web was complex. Their captain was not going to allow us to escape. He could afford to have his galley slaves die. He would make them row until they dropped. We did not have that luxury. I was not certain if there were more ships over the horizon. We had to disappear and to do so we had to lose the ships behind.
“Haaken slow the rate!”
“We can out row them Dragonheart!”
“No, we cannot. We row until they close and then we fight them. The other two ships are falling back. Let them close with us.” I waved Sámr over. “Sámr can you organise the ship’s boys? When they close their men will gather at their prow. They will try to board over our steering board. I would have you slow down their attack with arrows.” I held his shoulders in my hands, “I cannot direct you. This will be your decision. The crew depend upon you.”
“I will not let you down great grandfather.”
As we slowed, imperceptibly, I saw the leading galley close. The other two had almost given up. I could discount them. “David ben Samuel, how many warriors does a galley hold?”
“To speak truly I do not know. It could be anything from thirty to sixty.”
“Thank you! That is all I needed to know. The odds are in our favour!”
“You have less than forty men!”
“I know! They do not know the trouble that is coming their way!”
Haaken was close to us and he shouted, “Slow down the beat. The jarl wishes them to catch us.”
I turned and saw that the eager Arab was desperate to catch us. He had seen us outwit three of his companions. He was driving his men hard and I knew that he sought the glory. I had met captains like him before. The others had given up the chase. The four we had confused were dots on the horizon and the other two were turning to rest their rowers and to take advantage of the wind which had changed direction.
“One in two leave the oars and arm yourselves.” I turned to David ben Samuel, “It will be hot here. There will be much fighting and blood. I would go to the bows. It will be safer.”
“I can fight.”
“Not like a Viking. You may be in the way here. Aiden will also be at the bows. If men are hurt then you can tend to them.”
Aiden nodded and put his arm around our passenger. “Come. These are warriors and they know what they are doing.”
The Arab was now catching us quickly. I wondered how the rowers would be doing. I guessed that many would be dead as a result of the captain’s efforts to catch us. Their warriors would be fresh. I saw them at the bow. Aiden had told us that they used something they had copied from the Romans. It was called a corvus. It was a bridge which was at their bow. It was not elegant and beautiful like a dragon. It was ugly. There was a spike at the end and that would bite into our stern and hold us. The warriors would then run across the bridge. Knowing how they would attack helped.
The rowers we had released took their shields and formed up behind me. The enemy was just four lengths behind us and there was little point in using our oars. “In oars. Clan of the Wolf, we fight.”
There was a roar from the men who were behind me. They banged their shields with their swords. I saw Erik’s son, Arne, and Sven Stormbringer each take a spear and stand protectively close to Erik. They were in a good position to fend off any attack on our captain. Olaf had his shield across his back and he carried his two-handed axe. The Moors would never have seen the like. The galley now raced close to us. I heard Sámr shout, “Release!”
The four warriors who had the ropes ready to lower the beak to bite into our stern were thrown into the sea. As the bow came even closer I saw men with shields run to protect the next warriors from the arrows. Sámr had done what I asked of him and now he did more. I saw him aim, not at the men on the bow of the Arab but at the helmsman. It was a well-aimed arrow and flew straight and true. It hit him in the chest and threw him from the stern. As he fell his arm jerked over the steering board and the galley lurched. Two of those trying to lower the corvus fell into the sea. A huge warrior stepped forward and hacked at the ropes securing the bridge. It fell with a crash. As it did he was hit by four arrows and he too fell into the sea. We were now bound to the galley. Erik drew his own sword for we were now in the hands of the Allfather. He made the wind and our drekar would follow his course.
Olaf took advantage of the fact that the men who had intended to board us first had fallen into the sea. Their commander was busy trying to have the ship steered once more. Olaf Leather Neck leapt onto the bridge and, swinging his axe before him, ran towards the Moors. It was a move worthy of a berserker and it worked. The Moors had thought they were the hunter and we were the prey. In one move Olaf had reversed the positions. I followed him. It was mad but it was also totally unexpected. We were no longer the victim. We were the attacker. The first two Moors who attempted to face Olaf lost their heads as his axe made a figure of eight swing. He jumped from the bridge and landed amongst the Moors.
Holding my sword and dagger I emulated him. The half-naked Moors were interspersed with Arabs wearing robes and helmets. The helmets would not stop Olaf’s axe. Ragnar’s Spirit darted forward and struck a warrior in the gut. As I pulled it out I twisted and a mass of wriggling intestines came with it. The front of the galley was narrow and in three blows Olaf Leather Neck and I had made a bridgehead. We waited for our men to follow. Haaken One Eye led the rest of my men aboard. Where Olaf and I had been briefly isolated we were now surrounded by shield brothers. I saw a curved sword rise to strike Olaf on his blind side. The swordsman fell to an arrow. Our ship’s boys, under Sámr’s direction, were protecting us from dangers we could not see.
The Norns had spun. My plan had been to stop them taking my ship. Now that had changed. I shouted, “Haldi Haldisson, take your men and release the rowers!” We could increase our strength by letting the rowers get back at their former masters.
“Aye jarl!”
We were tightly pressed together and Wolf’s Blood was a deadly weapon in such a battle. Olaf and I were at the fore. Haaken was on my right and Galmr on Olaf’s left. Any flesh before me was a foe. I used my sword to block the enemy weapons as Wolf’s Blood sought flesh. The Arab who faced me with a grinning mouth and foul breath suddenly opened his mouth wide as my blade tore into his side. I pulled it savagely towards me and felt hot blood gush. His eyes rolled into his head and he fell dead. As I stepped forward I punched with Ragnar’s Spirit. The Arab before me had a helmet but he had not seen the blow coming his way. The guard on my sword took out his eye. Instinctively he lifted his hand and Wolf’s Blood ripped across his throat.
There was a roar and feral screams as the rowers were released. They were like an unstoppable tidal wave. Haldi and his men had found a way to get to the rowers’ deck. The flood of slaves suddenly erupted behind the men we were fighting. With arrows still striking those at the stern the Arabs lost their commander. Many of those half-naked men chose the sea rather than the wrath of slaves and blood thirsty Vikings. Those who remained were butchered where they stood.
I saw emaciated slaves hack and chop at bodies long dead. The overseer from the slave deck was literally torn limb from limb by sobbing slaves who had suffered at his hands for so long.
I saw that Olaf Leather Neck had been wounded. That was not a surprise. He had almost gone berserk. He was lucky to be alive at all. “Send for Aiden and David ben Samuel.”
