When Jarl Dragonheart steals the crown of Queen Osburga of Wessex he sets in motion a train of events which have dire consequences not only for the Land of the Wolf and Wessex but the land of the Danes too. After his great grandson, Sámr, is almost lost at sea, the Dragonheart is given a task. He has to lead a Danish army and take Lundenwic and Wessex. With just a handful of men and Ragnar’s son, Sámr, the Dragonheart battles Danes, Saxons and the Norns. A fast moving novel which takes the reader from north of Hadrian’s Wall to the Holy Roman Empire the novel tells the story of the great Viking raid of 851!
Dragonheart is getting old but he is still just as hard to kill. I am aware that many readers worry that Dragonheart is getting too old to fight – they forget the sword that was touched by the gods. There are lots of you out there who enjoy the pagan aspects of my novels… wyrd!
Excerpt
“We are ready jarl. We have made the woods harder to pass.”
I smiled. Haaken and Olaf would have told them that. They would have made the approach a tangle of branches and undergrowth. The wild blackberries which grew there would slow down an attack as the thorny tendrils grabbed and tugged at men trying to get through them. The dying Saxon had said that the land would fight us. We would use the land to fight the Saxons.
The Saxon leader shouted something and a horn sounded. The two priests began to walk towards us singing and the Saxon army trundled down the road. The horsemen stayed where they were and the men on foot filtered through them. Saxons do not fight on horses unless they have no choice. Their leaders were afforded a good view from the backs of their mounts. They were about to get a shock.
“Haraldr, we can reach those leaders. Once our arrows fall amongst them they will move. Let us see how quickly we can send our rain of death towards them.”
“Aye Jarl Dragonheart!”
The priests were less than one hundred and fifty paces away. “Draw!” I heard the creak of bows as my men pulled back. I felt the power of the Saami bow. “Release!”
Even as my first arrow was in the air I had a second nocked and released. My first arrow hit the man next to the thegn who led. Haraldr’s hit the leader on the shoulder and he fell from his horse. There was pandemonium. As I sent my third arrow I saw the priests had been killed and twenty others lay on the ground. Some were dead and some were wounded. The arrows continued to fall. The men on horses tried to escape but there was a press of men behind them. Some horses bolted and, in their panic, reared and flailed their hooves. Saxons died by the own horses. Some of the horses bolted through the forest. The men advancing there would have to watch for danger from their rear. Haraldr and I found man or horse with every arrow. Three horses lay on the ground kicking their hooves in the air. They were dying. I felt my back burning with the effort. I had six arrows left and already we had halted the enemy attack. They had not made a shield wall and, until they did, then plunging arrows would make a mockery of mail.
A horn sounded again and the ones who survived hurried back beyond the mound of dead animals and warriors. I had not planned it but our arrows had made a second barrier. I did not think they would be able to advance down the road. First, they would have to clear their dead. That gave me an idea.
I sent my last arrows into the men who scrambled over dead and dying horses. “Haraldr, take charge here. Keep arrows for their next attack.”
I handed him my bow and clambered down. I picked up my shield and hefted it. Olaf Leather Neck was on one side of our defence and Haaken the other. I joined Haaken. He looked at me expectantly, “They were surprised. Haraldr hit their leader. Their horses caused much damage. Foolishly they did not employ a shield wall and they paid a price.”
Haaken pointed into the woods. I could see metal. “And here they come!”
I drew my sword, “Ragnar’s Spirit! Death to the Saxons!”
The hundred or so men I led banged their shields with their swords and roared. It was a message of defiance.
We had spread our men out. We had no second rank and we had no reserves. We stepped across the Roman ditch and into the eaves of the forest. My men had laid the snares and traps just eight paces in. We had eight paces to fight. Then we could fall back to the ditch. I hoped, by then, that night would have fallen. The Saxons had to approach us as individuals. Karl Olafsson was the first to strike a blow. He was one of my warriors from Windar’s Mere. His father had fought alongside me. He bore his father’s shield with the wolf painted upon it. The first Saxon who broke through the brambles stood no chance as Karl brought his sword across his body. The mailed Saxon had his throat ripped open and he fell across the fallen branches. He hung there, another barrier for the Saxons to pass.
The first Saxon I slew had a leather vest, shield and spear. Caught in the brambles he jabbed at me with his spear. I fended it away with my shield and hacked across his body. He did not die instantly. He fell and slowly bled to death. Around me other Saxons were suffering the same fate as they came against a Viking warband which had nothing to lose. We fought because there was nowhere to run. A wild Saxon saw me and ran towards me with a wood axe in his hand. He did not look where he was going. I took a step back. He tripped over the dying man I brought over my sword and laid his spine open. I now had three bodies before me. Others had just as many. We had a wall. It was a wall of Saxon dead.
Suddenly a horde of them ran at us. They had shields held before them. They were not a continuous line. The trees and the undergrowth slowed some up. The shields they held before them limited their vision. My shield was held to the side. When I needed to I could pull it up in an instant. One Saxon stumbled. He put his arms out to regain his balance. I drover Ragnar’s Spirit into his chest. As I pulled it out another appeared and he tried to use this dead comrade to leap up at me. I slashed my sword across his middle. He lay writhing on his companion’s body. He tried to shove his entrails back inside. I had no time to give him a warrior’s death as others were coming for me. I knew why they came for me. It was not because I was Dragonheart. It was because I was a white beard. I was an easy kill. Four more Saxons found that they were wrong. As darkness descended a horn sounded three times and the Saxons filtered and fled back through the woods.
I turned to Haaken, “Watch here while I check on the others.” I went around and found that we had lost but six men. The Saxon wall lay all around us. “Erik, have the bodies stripped and then use them to make a barrier around us. Make the Saxon spears and swords into traps for the next attack.”
“Aye Jarl Dragonheart. A great victory!”
“It is a start only.” I turned, “Olaf, Haaken, Galmr!”
My three men ran to my side, “What is amiss, Jarl Dragonheart?”
“Nothing Galmr. I just have a plan for this night. Choose the six best men with knives. Tonight, we go out. They will try to shift the horses and their dead. I would make life hard for them. So long as that road is blocked then they must come through the woods. It will be a long day tomorrow but if we can hold them we have a chance to escape.”
Now that our battle was over we were able to hear the battle to the south. Some of those from the north were now engaged with Sigurd Snake in the Eyes. We were surrounded.
“Snorri. Have your band make a barrier to the south. The Saxons had wood axes. Use them to cut branches. Use Saxon bodies too.”
“Yes, Jarl Dragonheart.” He held up the byrnie he had taken from a dead Saxon. “Already four of us have mail! You have brought us good fortune.”
“Perhaps!” We would have a small stronghold. Eighty paces from east to west and a hundred and fifty paces from north to south, it would not be the largest fort but it was all we had and we would defend it with our lives.
