Blood of Kings by M.S Olney

Author:M.S Olney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Vikings, Saxon, 1066, war, History, Normans, Stamford Bridge, Fulford, Battles, Dark Age
Publisher: M.S Olney
Published: 2019-03-24T00:00:00+00:00

17.

April 1066

Norway

The band of warriors slowly wound their way through the spectacular scenery of the Norwegian fjords, and forests. Trees grew higher than many of them had ever seen, and in such numbers that it boggled the mind. For three days they walked without pause, save for a few hours each night, when the lack of light made the narrow paths treacherous.

Ragner seemed to know the country like the back of his hands, only once had they had gotten lost. They hugged close to the well-worn dirt roads that lead to the port of Oslo. They had not dared use them directly in case they should stumble onto a Norse patrol or run into bandits that frequented the isolated trails. Every man was footsore and hungry, and out of the number that had started two had dropped out and returned to the ship. One had been the Varangian whose nose had been badly broken by Ragner in his attempted escape. The big Rus couldn’t carry on due to being unable to breathe properly. Blood continually clogged up his nose making it impossible for him to keep up.

In some ways, Osfrid was glad they now had someone guarding the ship. Osfrid had ordered one of the other Varangians to go with the wounded man. Nothing was worse than being left behind alone.

His memory recalled an incident from his youth when he had been new to the ways of battle. He had been sixteen when he and a small war band had been sent to the Scottish border. He had been injured on a march and had been told to wait for the others in a small valley. He’d done his best to stay hidden, but somehow the savages had found him. For three days and nights, he had run in fear from the savage chants of the Scots.

On a quiet night, he could still hear that terrible noise in his mind.

Despite the coming of the spring, a chill hung in the air. Each of the men was wearing heavy animal hide cloaks and gloves. Night was falling once again, and within the hour, Hunweld called a halt for the night. Acca and the others immediately set about making a fire whilst Ceadda began handing out supplies of dried mutton and stale bread. Osfrid thanked the older man, biting eagerly into the food. Hunweld waved him over to where he, Ragner and three of the Varangians were huddled together.

“Ragner has a plan for us to get inside the town,” Hunweld explained. He was crouched over a pile of sticks, trying unsuccessfully to start a fire. “These are my best men that speak Nordic” he added, pointing to the Varangians present.

Osfrid took out a piece of flint from his pocket and started the fire with one strike from his dagger. Sparks erupted immediately setting the pile ablaze.

“Move over old man,” Osfrid chuckled as he nudged his father out of the way. He blew onto the flame feeding it with his breath.

Once the fire was suitably ablaze, he stood up and chucked a few more twigs and leaves onto the flame.

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