Hrothgar and the Undead
After a few days practice my hands did indeed seem to become habituated to rough work, so perhaps One-Foot’s remedy worked. One evening, One-Foot had everyone remove their belongings from the boat and anything he deemed surplus to requirements was discarded and everything remaining was then tidied away. This caused no problems to me as I had very few possessions, but some of my companions made hasty arrangements to sell goods deemed superfluous by our master.
The next morning, we set sail and headed to a cove at the east end of the northern shore – rumour had it that we were to set sail for the Eowan the following morning. Apparently, the plan was for a landing on the northern end of Eowland and then a march southward crushing anything in our path.
One-Foot seemed pleased with the changes he had made and indeed the ship did seem to sail more smoothly. As we landed the priest, Leofdag, walked off saying that he was heading to a Thunor shrine where he had business, but that he would be back in time for the departure in the morning.
I was excited to begin our adventure and so had a restless night, especially as at this time of the year the sun is only below the horizon for a few hours. Come the morning though Leofdag was still absent and the superstitious amongst my shipmates were muttering uneasily about departing without our priest.
Soon we saw Wiglaf and the largest of his ships began to sail off. One-Foot gave orders for us to make ready to depart and get the Black Pig into the water. Many eyes gazed anxiously in the direction whence the priest had departed as we did so. Fortunately, far-sighted Wistan was able to make out Leofdag and another figure heading towards us before our preparations were complete.
By the time Leofdag and his companion arrived, the Black Pig was afloat and we were at the oars ready to depart. They clambered aboard and we had our first glimpse of a scruffy ex-slave. He was unkempt and dressed in rags and had marks of bindings on his wrists, ankles and neck. Leofdag told Osgar that he believed the man to have been Thunor-sent, as he had dreamt of him as he had slept by a sacred oak near the shrine. The Thegn was reluctant to allow the slave aboard as he had obviously been someone’s property, but not wishing to go against Leofdag’s dream he permitted the newcomer to board.
Leofdag also now had a small, inflated, leather sack with him. He handed this to On-Foot, who seemed to have been expecting it and stored it carefully, near the gangplank.
My oar was near where the slave was questioned and I overheard that his name was Ruric and that he was a spear Dane who had been captured by Eowan pirates and had spent three years as a prisoner on the island of Eowland. Perhaps he would have useful information for us. He claimed to be an experienced warrior and seamen and seamen in particular are in short supply on the Black Pig.
Well, One-Foot’s training proved it’s worth as we rowed eastward through the straits between Wasterwic and Eastwic. The straits were crowded with ships and we saw a few collisions but managed to avoid such a fate ourselves. Despite the execrations heaped on us by One-Foot in the last few days, perhaps there were worse crews.
Later that day we emerged out into the White Sea near the foremost of the smaller ships. It wasn’t until we reached the open sea that the full power of the ocean became apparent. The ship tossed and turned like a plaything of Wade and many of my companions began to vomit. Fortunately, I soon became accustomed to the motion and found it exhilarating. When it was no longer my turn to row, I stood on the deck, with the wind blowing through my hair – it was exhilarating and reminded me of standing on the crags on a windy day – I felt so alive.
There was a helpful breeze so we needed less effort at the oars and towards evening Thegn Osgar gathered us all together to hear his plan. He informed us that he intended landing further south on the island than Wiglaf had ordered, deeming that this would give greater opportunity for glory and plunder and might help the King’s plan by diverting Eowan forces south.
Lyttelman was unsure whether to head down the East or West coast of the island, so I repeated what I had learnt from my Weather Geatish drinking companions about the East coast being rocky with few suitable landing beaches and the West coast having a narrow channel but more suitable strands. One-Foot agreed this was true but reckoned a pilot would be required to navigate treacherous shoals in the Western channel, he also thought the Eastern coast little better, as it was a rocky coast, difficult to stay close to in search of inlets. This was where Ruric proved his value as he knew a sheltered sandy bay on the East coast where he had been taken after being captured. He was able to describe the location and reckoned there were perhaps two hundred inhabitants, but not all were warriors, although some of the women were witches. There was a burgh – it had no walls but was surrounded by hedges. Osgar was concerned with the potentially large number of foes, but One-Foot suggested seeing whether some other similar sized ships would like to join our venture and there were other ships around that might be approached come the next morning.
During the darkest part of the night Wistan told his watch mates that he could hear cries across the water. Some agreed, some just shrugged, but no-one could see anything through the dark.
The next morning a small, slender craft that One-Foot said was called Spearhafoc was wallowing nearby. There was no sign of anyone aboard. One-Foot guided us alongside, complaining at our clumsy approach and some of us clambered aboard. There were no signs of a struggle, just a few weapons cast aside.
There were many theories as to what had happened, including Eowan sorcery, but there was no evidence and it seemed strange that the ship had not been looted. My companions looked at me and I knew I must have said something but didn’t recall what it was. Herewulf backed me up and I realised that I must have said something about it reeking of the dead.
Two or three ships seemed to be approaching the Black Pig. The Spearhafoc was searched and the kit of the ex-crew along with a sword found on deck and a small chest found concealed behind the provisions was brought on board the Black Pig. We had enough spearmen-rowers to handle two ships, but One-Foot feared the lack of seamen.
The first ship to catch up with us was the Blue Fish, which seemed to have an experienced crew of around 30 and drew up smoothly alongside. Beorthulf the Brimwisa and Osgar negotiated from the sterns of the two ships. I could not hear what was said, but another ship approached before negotiations were completed. This was the Osprey and her arrival was considerably less ordered and backed up my earlier conclusion that there might be worse crews than our own. The ship was large with some 50 crew and the Brimwisa, Eoppa, leapt aboard to join in the negotiations.
Lyttelman outlined his plans and it was clear that the two Brimwisas were happy to join in. With the help of One-Foot to press the bargaining they came to an agreement that each ship would take a third of any loot. Thegn Osgar would lead the expedition but the other two could overrule him in combination. The venture could be dissolved by any of the three ships as long as no other ship was in the presence of an enemy. For a quarter share of the value of the Spearhafoc once sold, the other two ships would provide four men each for the new crew and the Black Pig would provide the Steorman and the Brimwisa.
As they cut palms and shook hands on the deal, Wistan shouted that another, large ship was bearing down on them. Eoppa was against allowing them to join as there would be less loot for each ship; Beorthulf was less sure as there would be no loot if the force was insufficient for the purpose, but Osgar convinced them that their force would suffice and the crews made all ready and set sail and oars again.
Saebhert was put on board as the Brimwisa of the Spearhafoc, with Hwaetman as his Steorman. We all set sail, slightly to the east of the expected course for reaching the northern strands and the approaching ship continued on that more westerly course and was soon lost to view.
There was a steady breeze and so we crew, were able to leave the oars. We gathered around to look at the loot, while the Thegn determined how to distribute it. The item that sparked much interest and indeed hilarity, was a walrus tusk, which Leofdag announced was a Thing of Power. As it was passed around it was found to induce a strong erection which led to many bawdy comments and speculation on what Nothgyth, Osgar’s wife would make of it. Also, of great interest were the four byrnies; various people tried them on to see who they would fit – it was hilarious watching Sweyn trying to fit into the largest one, which was still far too small for his great size.
It was determined that the smallest only fitted Leofdag, the next only One-Foot of the notable crew, the next fitted a few but Lyttelman reserved it for Saefrith, who was sworn to him, and currently on the Spearhafoc. The last fitted Grimcytel the youngest and poorest present and many expected the Thegn to save this for later distribution. However, Osgar gave it to the youngster who immediately swore his oath to the generous Thegn. I was very happy to be given one of the Grimhelms. Osgar does indeed seem a very generous lord, as well as a fine and famed warrior, so I also swore my oath to him. The other weapons and armour were distributed, including the sword and some healing salve to Wistan and the unusual and rune-marked bow to Herewulf, many warriors were able to upgrade their equipment. Finally, Hild was given the tusk by Lyttelman with urgings to use it wisely.
A quarter of the hack silver was reserved for the King, in case he claimed a share in the future, which caused some muttering, but which seemed to me a wise precaution. The rest was shared amongst those who had received nothing. The Thegn kept the leftover silver and a few items for the ship’s share. My shipmates and I were delighted at this auspicious start to the venture.
We sailed on for the rest of the day, with our fellow ships remaining close by. Oswine and Grimcytel played their instruments and the rest of us relaxed. I spent some time considering my words about the dead, on board the Spearhafoc. Since the adventure with Osgar and Wistan in the Summerlands, I have been troubled by strange dreams of the grave and of the unquiet dead. Oddly enough these were not dreams of fear – the dead held no terror for me. Grimm, our guide to the Summerlands, who might have been an incarnation of Woden, had offered each of us a gift. Perhaps His gift to me was some kind of connection to the dead? Subsequent events would shed more light on this.
The plan was to head eastward, around the northern end of Eowland, hopefully out of range of the Eowan pirates and then more westerly, hoping to reach the Eowan coast more or less at Sikvarp, the inlet identified by Ruric. Wistan was hoisted up into the crosstrees to use his sharp sight to make out the coast. It afforded as all much entertainment to watch his undignified progress at the mast in some sort of rope stirrup and at one point he lost the stirrup and was left clinging to the mast and had to be reattached by Waebherd. He rode his magnificent stallion with much greater ease! By the end of the day he seemed more comfortable and he was able to keep the coast in sight.
The events of the night are difficult for me to relate as I have only very vague recollections, despite the major role I played. What follows is what I have been able to glean from my companions.
The day ended and twilight gave way to the short dark of the night and a few men of the fourth watch were on guard. Suddenly, so I am told, I leapt up and shrieked: “The Dead, the Dead are coming. They are here!”.
Fortunately, all awoke, although some merely cursed me and huddled under their blankets. There was a swirl of the waters on the port bow and a ship rose from the depths. It was wreathed in an eerie, yellowish phosphorescence, garlanded with seaweed, and sea water flowed from its deck and down its sides. The unquiet dead from the sea, roiled from it and Sae-gasts, Brim-lichs and Ran-theofs rushed aboard seeking to grab members of the crew and drag them back into the murky depths. Ahead of them a wave of overwhelming horror and terror swept the ship.
Some of the crew were frozen to the spot where they stood, others cowered under their blankets, while many were overcome by confusion. Hild and Wighere threw themselves overboard and would have been followed by Aelfrith if Tohrwuld hadn’t had sufficient presence of mind to grapple her as she rushed past him.
There were some that have fought such fell creatures before and Lyttelman, Sweyn, Wistan, Herewulf and Leofdag were able to strike with rune marked weapons, which are normally required to damage such foe. Others, not possessing such weapons, were forced to take different action. Sivdap wielded the Saetur flame, earlier set in the sternpost by Osgar as a beacon, and was able to keep the dead at bay. Ruric, aided by Mantican, Herefrith, Oswine and Waebherd were able to form a shield wall.
It was myself who led the counter-attack. I had gabbed a mundane spear, but seemed to able to deal damage to sea-gasts with ease. Wherever I was they seemed to shrink away. The brim-lichs were mainly unarmed, just grappling crew members and endeavouring to pull them back on board their craft, or into the depths, but there was one, armed with helm and sword, driving the others on. I do have some recollection of locking eyes with this lich, and a struggle of wills. It seems that I then let out a mighty shout and undoubtedly aided by Woden, I cast my spear, striking it fully in the centre of the chest, whereupon it fell back into the ghostly vessel and I immediately collapsed on the deck.
From this point on the unquiet dead seemed to lose all organisation and purpose and any remaining fear gripping the crew dissipated. Those with rune-marked weapons intensified their attacks and the brim-lichs were soon laid to waste. More of the crew joined the shield wall and the remaining unquiet dead were repulsed and forced into the deep or back into their ghostly vessel, which soon sank beneath the waves.
I did not awake until dawn, when I was congratulated by my comrades. I learnt that it had been a hard-won victory. Young Waebherd, who had bravely joined the shieldwall, had been isolated and dragged aboard the ship of the unquiet dead, and was still aboard when it sank. Hild was found clinging, shivering to the steering board, but Wighere could not be found. The crew mourned their loss. Many also felt ashamed, that they had been frozen by the wave of fear sent out from the dead and had been unable to prove their worth. This was particularly true of those who had received byrnies from the earlier distribution of the loot from Spearhafoc, all of whom had been frozen in fear. Grimcytel and Leofdag offered to return their byrnies and One-Foot looked ashamed; their offers were rejected by the Thegn.
My comrades asked me to explain what had happened to me. Leofdag avowed that Helruning was said to be a Godgift of Woden and gave powers over the Dead. He thought that I had invoked one of the names of Woden – Lord of the Undead – in my final shout. This would seem to fit in with my earlier thoughts about the trip to Summerland and the offer from Grimm. Certainly, there can be little doubt that I had had the help of Woden, for which myself and the rest of the crew are very grateful.