Chapter 1

My name is Uthred, I am 18 years old and I am the son of Lord Uthred of Verdonk. Uthred of Verdonk was both feared and respected as a warrior and trader. He was a hard man, a born sword carrier, but he was fair as well. He had over ten boats and a hundred and fifty warriors as well as slaves and men at arms. He had been in battles all his life, he had made his name in the shield wall and in face to face combat with the Saxons, the Scots and the Franks.

He had always told me that when I was 18 he would send me out to make a name for myself. He had taught me well, I had been schooled in sailing and fighting. He had his top warriors train with me, teach me their tips and tricks. I was educated on the way the shield wall was used, schooled on the use of the sword, the axe and the spear.

My father had given me a ship and men enough to travel south to make my fortune. I had taken several of my boyhood friends. We had fought in several battles as warriors on my father’s ships and were ready to make our way in the world. It was the Viking way, to send the eldest son into the world to make his fortune and to make him a man.

We were fifty strong and armed to the teeth. The crew was made up of thirty foot soldiers that doubled up as rowers and seventeen warriors, including myself. The other three men were Vegoff, the shipmaster, Gudvær, his understudy and Jarun who doubled as a cabin boy that doubled as my servant and ships cook.

He was not the best cook and not the worst.

We had been rowing for almost ten days before we spotted a likely looking place to stage our first attack. Our food and water supplies were waning and we needed to restock. Viking Longboats are fast boats, they travel well over most types of sea but they have little storage space.

This battle would be my first as a leader; I had always fought under the leadership of a lord or shipmaster before. I was eager to show that I could lead my men into battle, eager to show I was man enough to prove my father right. My servant, Juran, helped me strap on my armour and both of my swords. I left my helmet until last as it made my head so hot and sweaty in the summer sun.

The oarsmen pulled harder as the ship started to approach the beach; from my fighting platform, at the prow of the ship, I could see activity in the village. They were getting ready to fight; that made me happy. It was ages since we had been treated to a good man to man fight. My ship had fifty men in it; thirty pulled on the oars, twenty including myself and the shipmaster were ready to do battle. It would be our job to protect the ship while the rowers got ready to fight. It was impossible to row in chain mail!

I was eager to get as near to the beach as possible. Many good warriors have lost their lives by dropping into deep water while wearing heavy armour. Plus when you are waist-deep in water it’s harder to fight.

I pulled on my helmet and unsheathed my long sword; we were only seconds from the beach. There was a shout of panic and several of my warriors at the front of the ship raised their shields. I heard the arrows before I saw them. They whizzed through the air. I called out to the rest of the men to raise their shields and then I slipped my arm into the loops of my own shield and ran forward, helping to protect my men. The arrows thumped into our hide-covered shields and none found a home in human flesh!

The ship bit into the sandbank and I made sure I was the first warrior over the side; the men appreciated a leader that acted like a true warrior. It gave them confidence.

The Saxons ran straight at us, a huge mistake on their part. They were farmers and fishermen and were armed as such; the first attacker was armed with just a fishing spear. He thrust it at me and I parried it with my shield. My sword swung but I was feinting, the fisherman danced and I thrust, the tip of my sword punctured his stomach, his scream rang in my ears.

The next thrust of my sword took his breath away, quickly followed by his life. The water around me was now alive with my men, there were at least fifteen of us on the shore now and we moved forward. It was important for us to keep the villagers away from the longboat as my foot soldiers disembarked.

Another man rushed toward me; he had a pitchfork. He thrust at my head and I dodged to the left, he thrust toward my torso and my shield took the impact. The barbs of the fork stuck in the hide and wood of the shield and my sword chopped the head from the fork. The farmer tried to hit me with the broken shaft of his fork as if it would hurt me.

My sword’s sharp tip pierced his throat and blood sprayed out into the sunlight. At the same time, I felt someone rush me from the right; I automatically thrust out my shield and heard a cry. The man had lost his footing and my sword hissed as it swung toward him; one blow to his stomach ended that man’s life. His hands tried to grab the guts that spilt from the gash I left in is stomach but his life and blood pulsed out of him.

Another man ran at me, a bill hook held high in his hands, as he swung it at me I sidestepped him, my sword slashed out and drew blood from his arm. He screamed a curse at me and swung the bill hook again, he swung it far to high and I dropped to my knees, feeling it swing over my head.

My sword slid into his chest between two ribs and blood sprayed from his mouth as he tried to scream. I twisted the blade, opening up the wound. Then I with drew my blade and slashed at his throat. He was dead before he hit the floor. I took a step back and watched as my men, my crew dispatched the fishermen.

The fishermen died on that beach, the beach that gave them food and life became their death bed. We were warriors, we were Vikings that had fought in many battles. We were armed for war; my men had swords, axes and spears. We wore helmets, leg guards and chain mail. We battled toward the sand and I was, for one, more than happy to get my feet on dry solid ground. They did not really know how to fight; if they had they would not have charged at us. They would have waited for us to attack. A man weighed down with armour will soon tire running up a beach.

They retreated and that was good for me and my as the foot soldiers would have more time to prepare and meet us on the beach.

I saw the fishermen congregating near one of the huts that lined the beach. I knew they would charge. They were leaderless and came at us slowly. It gave us time to prepare.

“Shield wall ... Shield Wall” I cried, “Form the shield wall, line up on me!”

My men knew what to do, they quickly formed the wall. Our shields slotted against each other, overlapping. I sheathed my long sword and unsheathed my short sword. A long sword is ideal for open fighting but the short sword was better for close hand-to-hand fights and especially in the shield wall. Other men sheathed there sword and axes and soon we were all armed with short swords or spears.

The Saxons ran at us, over one hundred of them against fifteen or so of us, I prayed to Odin, the god of war, that the rowers would meet us soon. We were outnumbered and as good as my men were I could not afford to lose any of them. My little war band was small enough as it was.

“Brace yourselves men!” I called out and felt the warriors either side of me tense. As they got closer, my men started to hit the rims of their shields with the hilts of their swords and they shouted curses and oaths. The din was amazing and was done to scare the enemy. They came at us, and as they came I could see the fear on their faces as they got closer.

They hit us face on, but our shields held strong. The shields were made to protect a warrior from sword and axe blows, these men had fishing spears, pitchforks and wooden staves. As the force of the attack rocked us back a step my sword slid under the rim of my shield and I hacked, slashed and thrust into anything I could find.

There was screaming from the other side of the shield wall but we held strong. The second attack rocked us backwards again. The sand around our feet was red with blood. This time the Saxons held against us and we had to protect ourselves from the thrusts of their spears. I hacked and tried to bring death to their numbers. Other men stabbed their spears over the wall of shields; we spread death amongst those villagers it was a bloodletting.

I knew we were in a full-on battle when the blood started to spray. Our rowers did not let us down, they hit the villagers from the side and the pressure was released on our shield wall. We started to move forward. The Saxons ran, it was their second mistake that day. My warriors chased them, hacking and slashing. I was flanked by two of my finest warriors, Bergvid and Halfdan. We moved up the shore dispatching anyone that stood in our way. It was a killing field and we revelled in the death, it was our job, it was our way of life.

The Saxons that were left had started to bunch at the top of the beach, where the sand turned into solid ground. There were ten or twelve men there, all big, all armed with pitchforks or spears. The three of us charged at them and with a few well practised strokes had put them all to the sword. When we had finished I looked around at the little village. It was now a battleground. My men had finished their job well; they were after all well practised at the art of war.