Chapter Text
It took nearly two weeks to get to England. Two, long, tiring weeks of being cramped on a ship with multiple people and half of their supplies they took from Norway with them, but finally, their ships graced England's shores, the blinding sun greeting them as their ships followed the glistening waters down stream.
"Well it's not a patch on Norway, but we'll make this land our own soon enough" Dag said, helping Eivor lower the mast down and bring in their sails.
"I am just glad to see any land at all, and I'll be happy to have my feet on soild ground again" Eivor replied, securing the mast down before he returned to his seat once more. England was already such a different sight from Norway. Fertile green lands with absolutely no snow in sight. The air was humid, and the waters looked warm enough to stick your hand in without fear of loosing them to the bitter cold. It was beautiful and vibrant and Eivor was looking forward to exploring the new lands England had to offer.
"We must not rush our landing." Sigurd said, leaning against the helm of the longship, beside Bragi. "This is the Kingdom of Mercia, which is largely unpacified. There will be eyes watching us from the trees, with bows drawn and traps set. We must be wary." he leaned over the side of the ship and called out to Randvi, who was trailing in another longship not too far behind them. "Randvi! Dig in your oars! All standing!"
"Have you spotted something!?" Randvi called back.
"Not yet, but let us go ahead to clear the path of any dangers! Then follow our lead when the sun brushes the horizon!"
"Understood! May Thor bless you all on your way!"
Sigurd looked back and waved his arm. "Sail on." he ordered.
"Yes! I am ready for whatever these green-thumbed fairy folk have to throw at us." Dag cheered.
"Do the sons of Ragnar know that we are coming, Sigurd?" Eivor asked.
"They do not, but they will not scoff at our visit."
"Do we mean to join their army?" Dag asked, making Sigurd shake his head.
"No, no. We will speak with them, get a lay of the land before we make our next moves."
"Do you know where they are camped?" Eivor asked.
"Yes. I visted their camp once before, at the beginning of my journey. Although my visit was short I believe I left on good terms with the brothers."
"Look ahead there!" Dad said suddenly, pointing across the river. "Is that what passes for a town? Plain brick and a single rune to their timid god."
"That rune is called a rood, Dag" Sigurd explained, chuckling slightly. "It is the cross upon which their god was sacrificed. It sits atop a monastery, their holy place of worship"
Dag's face scrunched in confusion. "That cross killed their Christ and now they display it in worship? Bizarre."
"We carve idols of our gods and make wishes before them. I suspect it is not so different for these Saxons" Eivor shrugged.
"But we do not worship the wolf that kills him! That is the difference"
"Whatever strangeness we see in these Saxons, they must think the same of us, Dag." Sigurd said before Eivor could reply.
Dag scoffed, then he pointed at another thing. "What are they doing there?" Eivor followed Dag's finger, looking towards a small crowd of people standing on the shorelines, all of them watching two men knee deep in the water, both of which were dressed in long white robes although one looked more expensive than the other.
Eivor chuckled. "Ritual drowning" he said, despite knowing full well what it was.
"That is a baptism, Dag" Sigurd half huffed. "Are the ways of the Christians really so unfamiliar to you?"
Dag chuckled and shook his head. "Not at all. I simply forgot, but I bet it must be nothing but priests and worshipers alone in a place like that. We could storm the port with ease, sack it without breaking a sweat!"
"Later, Dag" Sigurd dismissed. "There will be time enough for raiding once we have settled."
Dag clicked his tounge but he doesn't mention it again. Sigurd straightened his back, his eyes narrowing into tight slits. He held up his hand. "Stop the boat. Pull up over there"
The boat came to a slow stop near the riverbank, hidden away behind a wide bend with thick trees that concealed them from view. Eivor stood up, his hand ready at his axe. "What is it?"
"The way forward is blocked by a chain spanning the river" Sigurd clicked in tounge in annoyance. "We'll need to remove it before we can press on"
"Is there any chance we cut through it?"
Sigurd shook his head and huffed. "It's too thick for our axes. There must be a way to release it through that camp there" he drew an invisible path towards the camp just ahead of them.
"I will go" Eivor said.
"And I will be right behind you" Dag said, roughly bumping his shoulder against Eivor's, causing him to stumble back into Bragi behind him.
"No, Dag" Sigurd said quitely, putting his hand on Dag's shoulder. "Eivor will go in alone. The less men the better, and I want you defending the ship with our crew should trouble come our way"
"Ah yes, a good idea" Dag grinned, puffing up his chest. "Send out the arrow and keep your sharpest axe at hand, eh?"
"Something like that."
Eivor rolled his eyes and jumped down into the water with a light splash, his fur boots becoming soaked. He took off his cloak, throwing it back to Sigurd on the ship. "I won't be long." He said, wadding through the water, his axes in hand.
There were little to none soilders guarding the chainlink. Many were asleep while some kept to the far end of the camp, playing games with each other to keep themselves free of boredom. The bushes concealed his presence as he moved towards the camp and hauled his body over the fence, dropping down into the camp with a soft thump that went unheard.
Eivor picked them off one by one, starting with those who were alone and unaware, using the new blade Sigurd had gifted him to deliver a quick and quiet death. The last few men were hard to get alone, but Eivor stayed hidden until one finally branched off from the other two, stumbling back to his tent that he never made it back too. Eivor dove out of the bushes and pulled the soilder behind a wall, stabbing him in the neck. Eivor lowered the man's body against the wall before he snuck back into the bushes again to take out the last two men with two quick well drawn arrows that sailed through the air and hit the first man, leaving the second soilder little time to react before the second arrow hit him.
Eivor breathed a sigh of relief and stood up. He walked back towards the previous guard he'd killed and ripped off the key hanging around his neck. Eivor unlocked the door and stepped inside the tower, his eyes darting over the chain's unusual mechanism. Admittedly it took him a few minutes to figure out how to dismantle the chain, the mechanism odd under his inexperienced hands. After a short struggle he managed to break the first wheel off with his axe, causing the chain to whirl and tighten, held together by the second wheel alone. The wood cracked more with each blow of his axe until the mechanism suddenly whirled loudly, making bright sparks fly in different directions as the chain suddenly snapped in two and fall into the water with a loud splash.
Eivor waited for a few minutes until he heard the distant chatter of his brother and his crew rowing their way through. Eivor made his way back to the ship, wadding through the water towards the longship and Sigurd's extended hand.
"Fine work, Eivor" he praised, a pleased expression on his face as he hauled Eivor aboard the ship and handed him back his cloak.
"We should go back, Sigurd. See whatever treasure they were keeping" Dag grumbled, his arms folded over his chest.
"Not today, Dag" Sigurd said more firmly. "Now be on your guard, we should not be far"
They continued to sail onwards with Eivor helping to raise the mast once more. Randvi and Sunniva's ships were beginning to come into view behind them, although rather blurry. They were a fairly large clan, even with many remaining in Norway. Hopefully the sons of Ragnar still had the space to accommodate such a large band of people for a short time.
"Gods I am ravenous!" Dag groaned. "I pray they have food an ale on hand when we arrive. We should have sent word ahead, Sigurd, get something on the spit"
Sigurd chuckled, his shoulders shaking. "I doubt Halfdan, Ubba, and Ivarr Ragnarsson are lacking food here in England. Have no worry my friends"
"Oh, I can see it now! A suckling pig, so tender and juicy. And ale! Gods I miss the taste of ale!"
Eivor shook his head although a small smile graced his lips. "A man of simple pleasures aren't you, Dag?" he said, still trying to ring the water out the cuffs of his breeches.
Dag scoffed while Sigurd laughed. "Aren't we all, brother?"
The hills quickly became smaller and the trees began to feel more enclosed, plenty of game running wild through the trees and fish splashing about in the water. Eivor brushed his hand through his hair, pushing it back, his body aching at the thought of a good lie down and a grand feast to fill his empty sea belly.
"Look there, just ahead" Sigurd shook Eivor's shoulder with excitement. "That is where the sons of Ragnar have made their camp"
"At last! Our feet can finally find steady ground" Dag said.
Eivor stood up, his eyes narrowing as he stared ahead at the lack of the movement among the camp. "Sigurd, hold back. Something isn't right"
The rowing slowed in an instant and Eivor and Sigurd moved towards the opposite end of the boat, blocking the sun with their hands.
"There is too little movement for an army. Only a few men and tents." Sigurd dragged his fingers through his beard, his eyes narrowed in thought.
"Not the army we hoped to find?" Eivor asked.
Sigurd shook his head. "Definitely not. Let us get a closer look"
The camp lied in ruin with only a few tents sparsely scattered about the land. Leaves and dirt covered the top of the large longhouse that had been left behind, and there was no sign of the Ragnarssons banner anywhere. There was group of men standing near the docks, a small campfire lit in the middle of them all. They spoke with accents completely different to Eivor's, and they dressed in rags, old furs, and bones.
"Bandits." Eivor said, drawing his axe.
Sigurd scoffed in disapproval. "Pull up here. Dag, Eivor, on me"
The boat rocked to a stop at the docks. Sigurd jumped off first, followed closely by Dag and Eivor while the rest of the crew watched from the longship, weapons draw. Sigurd cleared his throat, placing his hands on his hips as he came to a stop a few feet away from the group of bandits.
"Oi, what's this?" One of them shouted, turning around. "A mess of filthy Danes befouling our riverways?"
"You there, gives us your name" Another said.
Sigurd puffed out his chest. "I am Sigurd Jarl of Fornburg. And you are?"
"Men who do not take kindly to Dane invaders creeping into our camp." One man spat as he cracked his knuckles. "You’d best move along, pagan. Spare yourselves a slaughter."
"You threaten Norseman with a play of swords, and expect us to cower?" Sigurd grinned, spinning his axe around in his palm.
Dag laughed, practically vibrating with excitement. "I have been weeks at sea without a single drop of blood to whet my axe. So spare the chatter, bacraut, and draw your weapon!"
Eivor cracked his neck and took up his axes. They were bandits, more skilled in terrorising farmers and each other than at physical warfare. Their numbers were small too. Eivor knew this, they knew this, and yet they still charged with their weapons draw and tempers hot, roaring with passion like they had a chance of victory.
The crew jumped from the ship and joined the fight, picking each bandit off one by one. Blood splattered the ground, boots splashed through muddy puddles of water. The last of the bandits squealed like piglets when they were caught and cornered. Dag dragged them out towards the open, making a show of his final kills and splattering blood on the tents. Eivor wiped his face, smearing more dirt than blood as he put his axes back in his holsters.
"Have a look around, all of you. I want no more surprises" Sigurd ordered, a slight temper in his voice that Eivor recognised as frustration. He stepped away to begin with helping in the search before Sigurd called out his name and beckoned him to follow.
"What's wrong?" Eivor asked, walking the short distance to get to Sigurd.
"Look"
Eivor stared ahead to the bones hanging in a long row that covered the entire entrance doors leading into the longhouse. "A noise trap. I'll have a look inside."
It was easy enough to just duck under the bone trap, even if the bones did still rattle in the low breeze that blew through the large empty longhouse that was crawling with cobwebs, mice and debris. Clearly the sons of Ragnar had not been here for quite some time.
"You there, untie us!" Eivor turned, surprised to hear a women's voice. "Let us walk free and we promise we won't hurt you"
Eivor chuckled as he approached the two tied up figures. "Quite bold in those bindings of yours. I like your spirt"
A man and women, both potentially- if not Saxon- knelt at his feet, both binded by their hands with little chance to run. The man was timid, barely able to hold eye contact with Eivor for long before he fearfully looked away. However the women was fierce, her resilient admirable as she continued to spit venom at Eivor.
"Sigurd! In here! Those men had prisoners" Eivor called out.
"We are very agreeable people, I promise you" The man said in a panicked rush. "You need not kill us."
"That is not for me to decide" Eivor replied, taking a step back.
"Peace friends. We have no need or wish to hurt you." Sigurd soothed, kneeling down to the two strangers, studying the both of them closely like he did with anyone that crossed his path. "What are your names?"
The women was still frowning when she glanced Sigurd over. "...Yanil" She replied, hesitant and still firery. "I'm a merchant, not a bandit like those others." She then gestured to her right with her head. "And this is Rowen."
The man in question stuttered at the sudden attention. "R-Rowen, that's right. I'm a stable hand, that's all." He spoke quick and nervously. "I keep horses, or- well, I did, until those brigands sold them off"
"They meant to sell us next, as slaves to the nearest bidder. But I'd rip their eyes out before I'd let that happen" Yanil hissed.
"How did you find yourselves here?" Sigurd asked.
"We came to trade with the sons of Ragnar, at Halfdan Jarl's asking" Yanil replied. "But they were gone when we arrived. The bandits cornered us, took our stock, and made us their prisoners."
"How long have you been here?" Eivor asked, feeling sympathetic for the both of them. It would not be an easy feat for either of them to rebuild what they had lost.
"Two weeks, give or take," Yanil shrugged. "Perhaps longer."
Sigurd gave Yanil and Rowen another once over, before he stood to his full height again. "Unbind them."
Rowan was the first to yield, seemingly satisfied by Sigurd's judgement. He held out his wrists, and Eivor cut the rope that bound him in one swift motion with hie knife. He held out his hand and helped Rowen to his feet, while Dag cut Yanil free and helped her up, both of them rubbing their wrists.
"You know the sons of Ragnar?" Sigurd questioned.
Yanil and Rowen nodded in Sync. "Aye. Sold many a mare and stallion to the brothers," Rowen said. "Good men, always paid me fair"
Sigurd looked around the longhouse, abandoned and unkempt for. "From the looks of this camp they've been gone for some time. Where will you both go now, what will you do?"
Yanil sighed, stratching at her head to think. "Rebuild my stocks. Start anew. I have friends and allies across the land to aid me but it won't be easy."
Rowen shrugged. "Every town and village needs a stable. To keep horses fit and trim. I'll find my footing again, somehow"
Eivor looked at Sigurd. Sigurd looked back at Eivor.
"What are you two thinking?" Dag asked, glancing rapidly between Eivor and Sigurd, confused.
"That we could use their skills as we get settled. Having access to trade and someone to tend to our mounts would be a great boon to our clan."
Sigurd nodded. "My thoughts exactly. Any friend of the Ragnarssons is a friend of mine. Right Dag?"
Dag cleared his throat. "O-Of course. Whatever you think is best, Sigurd."
"Well then. Rowen, Yanil, I am Sigurd, Jarl of Fornburg, son of Styrbjorn." He then gestured between Dag and Eivor. "This is Dag. And this Eivor, my brother. Both of you are free to go, but more than welcome to stay, if you're willing to pull your weight."
Yanil and Rowen look at each other in surprise but with smiles on their faces. "We'd be happy to! If only to get back on our feet." Yanil said.
"Then let it be done" Sigurd clasped his hands together. "The Raven clan welcomes you. Dag, would you be so kind as to show our new friends here were they will be staying" Sigurd ordered, making Dag puff out his chest as he gestured for Yanil and Rowen to follow him.
"Of course, Sigurd Jarl. Allow me"
Eivor leaned back on his hip as Dag escorted Yanil and Rowen out of the longhouse, talking as he went.
"From strangers, into friends, into family" Sigurd wrapped his arm around Eivor's shoulders and squeezed tightly. "I have a good feeling about this place, Eivor."
"As do I. There is something about this place that feels... homely" Eivor smiled, breaking free of Sigurd's grip to push him away. Sigurd laughed, and pushed him back, but their moment was cut short by the sound of a distance horn, the sound echoing off the high walls and ceilings.
"That must be the others!" Sigurd said, bumping Eivor's arm. "Come brother, we must welcome our friends and family to their new home!"