The Viking Saga Read online

  ‘The white shears cut the green,

  But the shears are not of iron

  Nor the green of grass.’

  Sven Hawknose said, ‘That is an easy one. I have known children make better riddles. That is a seagull skimming over the sea.’

  Arkil said, ‘You are right, Sven. But can you make one which I could not guess?’

  Sven said, ‘Yes, I give you this one:

  ‘This shining snake has no home

  And so must make one in the white rock;

  But it is chased away by the red river

  And can rest nowhere.’

  Arkil said, ‘You are clever, but not clever enough, old friend. That is a sword making a wound.’

  Then Harald said, ‘You both rhyme like young girls in the bower. Let me tell you one, and if you guess this, I will let each one of you give me a kick:

  ‘When we have you not

  We want you;

  But when we have you

  We do not know.’

  The Vikings sat and scratched their heads, making many guesses, but not one of them right. Then, when they had given up, Harald said, ‘It is sleep; and that is what I am going to have now.’

  So without another word he wrapped his tattered cloak about him and, snuggling close against the side of the gully, he fell into a doze, which at least kept his mind from thoughts of food and drink. The others followed suit, tired by their long march, and when the sun rose again, they set off towards the west and, after much floundering in the marshland, rested once more on the peak of a little hill.

  It was then that Goff Goffling ran back to Arkil, saying that he had seen two wonderful things; to the west he had suddenly glimpsed the hill shaped like a cow’s back; and below the hill they were on, he had seen a herd of horses, with only one man to guard them.

  This news cheered the wanderers immensely, and Arkil and Harald crept quietly to their hill’s edge to test Goff’s words. True enough, in the morning haze they saw the great hill shaped like a cow’s back, beyond which lay the Fort of Gold, their destination; and below them, a great herd of horses grazed, guarded by a tired-looking horseman, his black hair held up by pins, his legs encased in coloured breeches. Arkil noted that the man carried a long bronze sword and a cruel-looking lance.

  ‘The important thing is not to give him time to use them,’ said Harald, ‘for he looks like a warrior who would sell his life dearly to protect such fine beasts.’

  Arkil nodded and whispered, ‘Is there anyone among us who can throw a stone, young friend?’

  Harald nodded and said, ‘Radbard Crookleg can hit a sparrow with an acorn at twenty paces.’

  So they signalled back to Radbard, who found himself three good-sized stones and then began to creep down the hillside towards the horseman. The Vikings watched him go, holding their breath with anxiety.

  The horseman’s back was towards them, and men soon began to chuckle as Radbard drew nearer and nearer. Then something happened which put their hearts in their mouths, for suddenly the great black stallion on which the man sat raised his fierce head and gave a high warning neigh. Immediately the herd swung round, stopping their grazing, snorting and whinnying. Radbard stood up then and threw with all his might. But the stallion had seen him and reared in anger. The stone missed the rudely awakened rider, but struck the horse on the neck.

  With a high bound, the startled animal swung round, flinging its rider down, and for an instant all was panic among the great herd.

  Then Arkil was on his feet. ‘Run, run,’ he shouted, ‘before the man is up again!’

  And like a ragged army, the sixteen wanderers streamed down the hill towards the swirling horses, each man grasping the mane of the creature nearest to him.

  The guard had been kicked on the shoulder and sat ruefully rubbing his arm as Harald came up with him. He glared ferociously at the boy, but brightened up when he saw Arkil, who knelt down beside him and shook him by the hand. ‘Why, Saidhe, old friend,’ he said, ‘and to think that I did not recognize you!’

  The Irishman grinned painfully and said, ‘Arkil the Prince, and to think that you dare come back here after what giant Grummoch vowed to do to you! But it is good to see you again, and I can tell you that King MacMiorog will not turn you away this time, especially as you bring such fine men to fight for him.’

  Arkil said, ‘That is as may be, Saidhe! But our quest is for our own good, not King MacMiorog’s. Where is giant Grummoch at the moment, my friend?’

  Saidhe rose from the ground and whistled his black horse back to him; the half-savage creature snorted violently at the nearness of the Vikings, but his master whispered something to him, and he became calm once more.

  Then Saidhe replied, ‘You are in luck. Giant Grummoch is away in the north, at the court of the High King, asking the hand of his beautiful daughter. So you will be able to talk to King MacMiorog without interruption for a while.’

  And so it was that the Vikings rode over the hill shaped like a cow’s back and saw for the first time Dun-an-oir, the Fort of Gold.

  To many of them, this was the most splendid place they had ever seen, and they began to say that neither Kiev nor Miklagard itself could be as wonderful, though of course they had not seen either.

  Dun-an-oir lay golden in the morning sunshine, surrounded by a high stockade, a place of many fine houses, with the woodsmoke curling up blue above the thatched roofs.

  Goff Goffling groaned and pointed to the many heads which nodded on tall pikes the length of the stockade wall.

  ‘You treat your visitors badly,’ he said to Saidhe.

  Saidhe grinned and said, ‘There is not a Viking head among them all, my friend. King MacMiorog is a good Christian and would not decorate his city with the heads of heathens.’

  Harald was less concerned with the heads than with the vast herds of black cattle which grazed quietly here and there across the broad plain.

  ‘Indeed, King MacMiorog must be the richest king in Ireland,’ he said enviously.

  But Saidhe once more shook his black head until the bone pins in his hair began to jingle.

  ‘Nay, nay, young friend,’ he said. ‘He might be if Giant Grummoch were not here. MacMiorog owns only that which Grummoch will let him own; for he is like a carrion crow who feeds on the best meat himself and leaves little enough behind for the lesser birds to pick.’

  Harald said, ‘Why does your king allow this giant to go on living off him? Could he not arrange for the giant to join his fathers in whatever heaven giants go to?’

  Saidhe shrugged his shoulders, though it seemed to hurt him to do so after his fall, and said, ‘MacMiorog was born a coward. He is a strong fighter when his opponent is afraid; but his courage fails him when he meets opposition. The warriors of Dun-an-oir hold him in some contempt and will not attack Grummoch for such a king. So Grummoch rules the roost and makes a good thing out of it, while MacMiorog sits biting his fingernails in his palace, dreaming of the day when the gods will snatch Grummoch away.’ He paused a while and then added, ‘But so far the gods seem to prefer Grummoch to remain down here on earth with MacMiorog. His reputation seems to have gone before him to heaven!’

  At last they came to the stockade gates, which opened to them after Saidhe had blown three blasts on the horn which hung beside the lintel.

  The herd of horses galloped first through the stockade and turned off into a protected paddock within the city, led by the black stallion. Haro Once-only turned longing eyes after them.

  ‘Alas,’ he said, ‘we might have done well to keep a firm hold on those beasts, for we may need them sooner than we think.’

  Saidhe said grimly, ‘If things go well with you, the King will give you horses to ride on. But if they go badly, you will not need horses again.’

  While the men were wondering about this, Saidhe led them to a long house of timber and thatch, the broad door of which was adorned with seven white skulls, nailed to the timbers with iron spikes. He pointed at the skull in t
he centre and said, ‘This one came from Orkney to put an end to Grummoch, but the crows had him within five days.’

  Then they passed by the guard, who lolled against the doorpost, leaning on his spear, and so into the great hall itself, where the King sat on a painted throne, made more comfortable by coverings of sheepskin.

  MacMiorog stared at them through the smoke of his hall and spoke to a little man, dressed in black, who sat on the floor beside him.

  The Vikings heard him say, ‘Here, Cormac, are the men you promised me in your dream, the Lochlannoch, men of the waters. Mayhap they will put a swift end to our troubles, then we shall sleep soft o’ nights once more.’

  The King was a bent and wizened creature, a young man grown old before his time. His thin black beard and moustaches gave an air of weakness to his pale face, and even his narrow crown of beaten Irish gold sat crookedly and comically upon his head. He flung back his shawl of red and green wool and beckoned to Arkil, who had stepped up before the throne.

  ‘I am glad to see you again, Prince Arkil,’ he said, in a soft and womanish voice. ‘We thought your head might have come back sooner than your body, for Grummoch sent the two fierce brothers after you. Did you not meet them on your way?’

  Arkil bowed a little and said equally softly, ‘Yes, King MacMiorog, I met them, and drew their teeth for them. Their bodies have long since fed the fishes of the fjord.’

  The King pulled at his beard and forced a smile. ‘That is good,’ he said. ‘For if they had brought your head, it would have been no use to me. There is no space on my door for another one, you see. But coming with your whole body, and with such a goodly company of sea-rovers, you may well be of use to me.’

  Arkil said, ‘You wish us to put an end to giant Grummoch, is that not it?’

  The King nodded, his thin lips smiling cruelly.

  ‘You are still as keen-sighted as ever, Arkil,’ he said. ‘Let us pray that Grummoch does not draw the shades of night over those eyes.’

  Haro Once-only was becoming tired of this talk, for he was a direct man, and he said suddenly, ‘The giant who can do that has yet to be born.’

  The King turned his gaze on Haro, as though he had never seen such a creature before, but Haro was not a man to be frightened by a look and he stared back, until King MacMiorog had to give him best and look away.

  ‘Every cock can crow loudly enough in the daylight on his own dunghill,’ said the little man in black who sat by the throne, ‘but how many cocks dare crow at night, when the fox sniffs under the perch?’

  Haro stepped forward then and flung his sword, Alas!, at the feet of MacMiorog.

  ‘Before Odin, I will take that giant’s head if it is the last thing I do, just to show you that this cock has spurs as well as a singing voice!’

  The King pushed the sword away with his foot as though it were a distasteful thing to him, and said, ‘Prince Arkil, a true captain keeps his hounds on the leash. See that this dog is muzzled before you bring him before me again.

  At this the Vikings in the hall began to shout out, and some of them even drew their swords and daggers, so that the guards at the door prepared for battle there and then, and were not at all happy about their prospects. But Arkil held up his hand for silence and then he said, ‘King MacMiorog, we have an old saying in the north. It is this: the wolf whose foot is caught in a trap cannot afford to snarl at the hunter. Think on that saying, King, and we will come before you tomorrow and listen to you then.’

  He turned to go, but King MacMiorog called him back, smiling now, and said, ‘I was only trying to test your mettle, my friend. Now I know that you are men of good heart and so I give you my trust.’

  Then he clapped his hands and slave women came forward with horns of mead and platters of sheep-meat and good barley bread. The Vikings sat on the rush-covered floor and ate their fill, and when they had finished, the King spoke once more, saying, ‘My friends, you shall live to call me a generous master.’

  Sven Hawknose called out, his mouth full of meat, ‘We have no masters but Arkil and Harald!’

  MacMiorog smiled bitterly at him and went on, ‘That is so, I used the word merely as a term of friendship towards you. But I will proceed. This land is ravaged by a giant, as you know. I cannot turn my own men against him, for they fear him; and besides that, I must confess that they do not love me enough to risk their lives for me. So it will fall on you to rid the land of this plague. And in return, you shall take away with you as much of the giant’s treasure as you can carry, each man a sackful.’

  Arkil stood up before the king and said, ‘If we kill Grummoch, we shall take all his treasure, my friend, have no fear.’

  King MacMiorog bit his lip and then said, ‘Very well, that is as may be; you have a name for being harsh bargainers, you men of the far north. Let it be at that.’

  But Harald was not satisfied, for he did not trust this black-haired king with the crooked crown. He rose and went forward, saying, ‘Take my hands, King, and swear by your God that you will give us leave to take all the giant’s treasure.’

  King MacMiorog glowered at Harald, who was only a boy in his eyes, and said, ‘I will swear to Prince Arkil, but not to you.’

  But Arkil said stoutly, ‘Swear to Harald or not at all, for he and I are as two brothers in this matter.’

  So King MacMiorog took the oath, holding Harald’s hands, and then he promised that he would show them where the treasure lay, so that there might be no error when the time of trial came.

  5. The Island Treasure House

  Three days after their arrival at Dun-an-oir, the Vikings lolled before the cave entrance on the little island in the lake, below the hill shaped like a cow’s back. They had made their home there since the night King MacMiorog had shown where the giant’s treasure lay, and each day some of them rowed back to Dun-an-oir to fetch food and drink for the company.

  They sat in the sunshine, wondering when giant Grummoch would return to Dun-an-oir, speculating on the nature of the treasure, and working out ways of transporting it back to the coast when they had won it.

  Haro and Goff Goffling were in the middle of a tremendous argument on the matter when Sven, who had climbed the one tree on the little island, shouted out that he could see a wagon train approaching Dun-an-oir across the green plain. He said that there were at least ten wagons and that they were drawn by white oxen. It seemed to his eyes that the giant was riding at the head of the column on a black creature, but he could not tell what the creature was. Arkil, whose eyes were keener than those of a hawk, climbed up the tree beside him and said that the creature was a bull. He also said that the giant seemed even bigger than when last he, Arkil, had been in Dun-an-oir, and that was saying much.

  Then there was much excitement among the Vikings, for each man wanted to climb the tree and see this giant; but the tree was not strong enough to hold them all, and there was no time for them to take turns in climbing it. They were all sent to their various hiding-places, and Arkil himself rowed the little boat round to the far side of the island so that Grummoch should have no suspicion of their presence.

  The waiting was terrible for them all, and the only thing they could do was to lie quietly, chewing on the strips of dried meat which MacMiorog had sent them that day. It was almost sunset before they heard the sound of voices on the far shore, and saw the flare of torches start up as men began to load boats and rafts on the other side.

  Arkil passed the message round that they were all to lie still and not to attack until he called out like a sparrowhawk; then they were to fall on the giant in a body and put an end to him as swiftly as could be managed.

  It was then that they heard Grummoch’s voice for the first time, and so strangely high-pitched was it that Haro laughed aloud. Goff punched him in the mouth for that and a fight would have started there and then, but for Arkil’s warning that the two would lose their share of the treasure if they did not quieten down immediately.

  Then the Vikings heard t
he sound of oars splashing in the waters of the lake, and saw the flare of torchlight growing nearer and nearer.

  And suddenly a big boat drew alongside the small landing-beach and they saw for the first time the giant, Grummoch, as he waded ashore, carrying two great sacks on his shoulders.

  Harald, who had once known the massive Aun Doorback, gasped in mute astonishment, for this was a bigger man than he had ever dreamed of. Grummoch was the height of a man and a half, and was as broad across the shoulders as three men standing together. The slaves who came after him, carrying their loads, had almost to run in order to keep up with his monstrous strides.

  From the corner of his eye, Harald saw Arkil wipe the sweat from his forehead, in anticipation of the fight that must surely follow the arrival of such an opponent.

  Then Harald had a closer view of Grummoch, in the light of the many torches. His red hair hung in two great plaits, down each side of his head, and was braided with strands of gold wire. His thick red ears carried rings in the shape of half-moons. His massive arms were laden with bracelets of gold, twisted in spirals; and his fingers glimmered in the light from the many rings which encircled them. From head to foot, this giant was a treasure-house in himself. His rich red tunic was embroidered with silver and gold; rubies and emeralds gleamed on his embossed belt; his sword scabbard flashed with the fire of many amethysts; even the strappings about his gigantic thighs were thickly garnished with studs of coral.

  As Harald saw the ease with which Grummoch rolled away the great boulder at the mouth of the treasure cave, his heart fell, for he and many others had tried for days to roll away that stone, without success.

  Their plan had been that they were to attack when Grummoch had entered the cave, and before his slaves could reach him, for it was thought that in the restricted space of the entrance the giant would have less chance of using his great strength on the Vikings.