Forged by Iron

  Forged By Iron

  Olaf's Saga Book I

  Eric Schumacher

  Copyright (C) 2020 Eric Schumacher

  Layout design and Copyright (C) 2020 by Next Chapter

  Published 2020 by Legionary – A Next Chapter Imprint

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Glossary

  Part I Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Part II Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Part III Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Historical Notes

  Other Books by Eric Schumacher

  About the Author

  To my family and friends, for your love, patience, and continued support.

  Acknowledgements

  There are many people to thank for the creation of this novel. First and foremost, I want to thank you, my readers, for your continued support, your nudges, your reviews of my work, your comments on social media, and for so much more. I again want to thank Marg Gilks and Lori Weathers, whose keen eyes and attention to detail hone my words and my poor use of commas into the story you are about to read. With each book, I endeavor to present a cover that helps set the tone and vision for the story. Thankfully, I have masters like David Brzozowski for layout and Andrew Dodor for imagery, to transform my ideas into a work of art. Thank you, gents. And last but certainly not least, to my publisher, Next Chapter, I thank you for working so hard to get my books into the hands of readers around the world. It is to you all, and to the countless others who have accompanied me on this journey, that I owe a huge debt of gratitude.

  Glossary

  Aesir – One of the main tribes of deities venerated by the pre-Christian Norse. Old Norse: Æsir.

  Aldeigjuborg – the Old Norse name for a trading post located on the Volkhov River near Lake Ladoga. It was a prosperous outpost in the 8th and 9th centuries. Staraya Lagoda is the Old East Slavic name for the trading post.

  bonder – Free men (farmers, craftsmen, etc.) who enjoyed rights such as the use of weapons and the right to attend law-things. They constituted the middle class. Old Norse: baendr.

  borg – A fortified settlement.

  byrnie – A (usually short-sleeved) chain mail shirt that hung to the upper thigh. Old Norse: brynja.

  dragon – A larger class of Viking warship. Old Norse: Dreki.

  East Sea – Baltic Sea.

  ell – A former measure of length equivalent to roughly forty-five inches.

  Estland – One of the Scandinavian names for what is today Estonia. Other names for the area include Eistland and Esthland.

  Eysysla – The Old Scandinavian name for the island of Saaremaa.

  Frey – Brother to the goddess Freya. He is often associated with virility and prosperity, with sunshine and fair weather. Old Norse: Freyr.

  Freya – Sister to god Frey. She is often associated with love, sex, beauty, fertility, gold, magic, war, and death. Old Norse: Freyja.

  Frigga – She is the highest-ranking of the Aesir goddesses. She's the wife of Odin, the leader of the gods, and the mother of the god Baldur. She is often confused with Freya. Old Norse: Frigg.

  fylke (pl. fylker) – Old Norse for “folkland,” which has come to mean “county” or “district” in modern use.

  Gardariki – The states controlled by the Scandinavians who settled in that part of ancient Russia and Ukraine.

  godi – A heathen priest or chieftain. Old Norse: goði.

  Hel - A giantess and/or goddess who rules over the underworld (also named Hel) where many of the dead dwell.

  hird – A personal retinue of armed companions who formed the nucleus of a household guard. Hird means “household.” Old Norse: hirð.

  hirdman (pl. hirdmen) – A member or members of the hird. Old Norse: hirðman.

  hlaut – The blood of sacrificed animals.

  Hnefatafl – An ancient Norse board game.

  Holmgard – Norse name for Novgorod. Old Norse: Holmgarðr.

  Irland – Ireland.

  jarl – Old Norse for “earl.”

  jarldom – The area of land that a jarl ruled.

  Jel Island – An island off the coast of Vingulmark.

  Jormungand – A snake or dragon who lives in the ocean that surrounds Midgard, the visible world. Old Norse: Jörmungandr.

  Kattegat – The sea between the Northlands and the Danish lands.

  kaupang – Old Norse for “marketplace.” It is also the name of the main market town in Norway that existed around AD 800–950.

  knarr – A type of merchant ship. Old Norse: knǫrr.

  Midgard – The Norse name for Earth and the place inhabited by humans. Old Norse: Miðgarðr.

  Night Mare – The Night Mare is an evil spirit that rides on people's chests while they sleep, bringing bad dreams. Old Norse: Mara.

  Njord – A god associated with sea, seafaring, wind, fishing, wealth, and crop fertility. Old Norse: Njörðr.

  Norns – The three female divine beings who influence the course of a man's destiny by weaving their fates. Their names are Urd (Old Norse: Urðr, “What Once Was”), Verdandi (Old Norse: Verðandi, “What Is Coming into Being”), and Skuld (Old Norse: Skuld, “What Shall Be”).

  Odin – Husband to Frigga. The god associated with healing, death, royalty, knowledge, battle, and sorcery. He oversees Valhall, the Hall of the Slain. Old Norse: Óðinn.

  Orkneyjar – The Orkney Islands.

  Prussia – A historical region in Europe, stretching from Gdansk Bay to the end of Curonian Spit on the southeastern coast of the Baltic Sea, and extending inland as far as Masuria. Around AD 800 to 900, the tribes were named Old Prussians.

  Rus – According to the Russian Primary Chronicle (ca. AD 1040-1118), the Rus were a group of “Varangians,” likely of Swedish origin. Rus appears to be derived from the Finnish word for Sweden, Rotsi (later Ruotsi), which in turn comes from Old Swedish rother, a word associated with rowing or ships. Russia derives its name from “Rus.”

  seax – A knife or short sword. Also known as scramaseax, or wounding knife.

  sel – A summer cottage typically found on a seter.

  seter – An area, typically in the mountains, with a barn where farmers (bonders) brought their livestock (cattle, goats, and sheep) to be milked after a day of grazing in the mountain pastures.

  skald – A poet. Old Norse: skald or skáld.

  shield wall – A shield wall was a “wall of shields” formed by warriors standing in formation shoulder to shoulder, holding their shields so they abut or overlap. Old Norse: skjaldborg.

  steer board – A rudder affixed to the right stern of a ship. The origin of the word “starboard.” Old Norse: stýri (rudder) and borð (side of the ship).

  skeid – A midsize class of Viking warship.

  sköl – A toast to others when drinkin
g. Old Norse: skál.

  skyr – Skyr is a fresh sour milk-cheese, but yet consumed like a yogurt.

  The Lake – Lake Malaren. During the Viking Age, it was known as Lǫgrinn, which means “The Lake.”

  thing – Also known as law-thing, it is governing assembly of a Viking society or region, made up of the free people of the community and presided over by lawspeakers. Old Norse: þing.

  Thor – A hammer-wielding god associated with thunder, lightning, storms, oak trees, strength, and the protection of mankind. Old Norse: Þórr.

  thrall – A slave.

  Valhall (also Valhalla) – The hall of the slain presided over by Odin. It is where brave warriors chosen by valkyries go when they die. Old Norse: Valhöll.

  valkyrie – A female helping spirit of Odin that transports his favorites among those slain in battle to Valhall, where they will fight by his side during the battle at the end of time, Ragnarok. Old Norse: valkyrja (pl. valkyrjur).

  Vendland – A name used for the regions east of Lübeck by the Scandinavian peoples since at least before the turn of the tenth century.

  Vidar – A little-known Norse god sometimes associated with revenge. During Ragnarok, the god Odin was devoured by the wolf Fenrir. Vidar, a son of Odin by the giantess Gríðr, immediately killed the wolf to avenge his father's death. Old Norse: Víðarr.

  Vingulmark – A district on the northeastern side of the waterway the Vikings called the Vik.

  Westra Aros – Modern-day Västerås, which is one of the oldest cities in Sweden. The name originates from Västra Aros (West Aros). The area has been populated since the Viking Age.

  Yngling – Refers to the Fairhair dynasty that descended from the kings of Uplands, Norway, and that traces its lineage back to the god Frey.

  Yule – A pagan midwinter festival lasting roughly twelve days. It later became associated with Christmas. Old Norse: Jōl

  Part I

  There he stood as one who dreamed;

  And the red light glanced and gleamed

  On the armor that he wore;

  And he shouted, as the rifted

  Streamers o'er him shook and shifted,

  “I accept thy challenge, Thor!”

  The Saga of King Olaf

  Chapter 1

  Vingulmark, Ostfold, Summer, AD 960

  I stood on a bluff, peering first at the sea far below, then over at Prince Olaf, the son of King Trygvi. Beneath the amber bangs that danced on his forehead, Olaf's blue eyes were alight and his cheeks round from his smile. I knew why he looked so; I had seen him thus several times before. It was the twinkle of mischief that Olaf got when he was about to embark on some adventure. I hated that look, for it usually involved me, and more oft than not, it landed me in trouble. This adventure was no different, and my stomach roiled with misgivings. For Olaf was only eight winters old, and I only twelve, and the drop to the sea was farther than I remembered it being.

  My name is Torgil, son of Torolv, the lord of an island called Jel, an island on the coastline of Vingulmark in the Ostfold, which my father had earned in his service to the king. Men called Torolv “Loose-beard” on account of his wild beard and his violence in battle, but also in jest, for he was known to let his words loose when he lost his temper, which was often and mostly aided by ale. I suppose I inherited that temper, though I needed no ale to stoke it.

  My father once told me that he had known little peace in his life, and I believed it. He spoke little of it to me, but I heard many of the stories in our hall when other men came to visit. Decades before my birth, my father had joined Jarl Trygvi's men in helping the good King Hakon drive Erik Bloodaxe from the land. He had been no more than a boy then. While Erik's removal had brought some peace to the realm, there was never truly any rest from the fighting. Incursions from the land-hungry Danes and marauding sea kings kept the men of Vingulmark in a constant state of battle, which I suppose had much to do with my father's temper.

  When I was seven winters old, the sons of Erik Bloodaxe returned to the North with vengeance in their hearts and a will to see it through. After many battles and with the help of the Danes, they finally killed King Hakon and took the High Seat for their own. Not a fortnight after Hakon's loss, my own mother, a raven-haired, green-eyed woman from a land far to the west, took ill and died. King Hakon had been a good and just king, and my mother a wise and gentle partner, and their loss struck as deep as any well-swung blade against soft flesh could. I still remember the tears that flowed from my father's eyes and the copious amounts of ale he drank to dry them. I remember too the sadness and loneliness and fear that defined my days and nights during that time, for my father's temper was as capricious as the uneasy peace that had settled on the realm. Had it not been for my father's maidservant, Helga, I know not how I would have survived.

  Not two summers after my mother's death, Harald Eriksson, the oldest remaining son of the Bloodaxe brood, brought death to Hakon's loyal friend and kinsman, Sigurd, jarl of Lade. I was nine winters old by then and remember clearly how my father raged at that news and how he began the work to protect our people from a similar fate. Knowing that King Harald would come for us next, my father built a new hall on a hill that lay on the southernmost tip — and most strategic point — of the island he ruled. The hill he chose was heavily forested and we spent long days felling trees and clearing the hilltop until we could see the Vik stretching southward before us. On clear days, I could even see the dark line of Vestfold to the west.

  A beautiful place, that hilltop borg. But more importantly, a protected place that would be hard to take, should Harald Eriksson come for us. It was my first taste of hard work and it left calluses on my hands as thick as gloves. But at the end of it, my father was well pleased with the fort and palisade and hall that we had built from Jel's stout timber.

  It was at that time that Jarl Trygvi elevated his title to “king”, for he would not be known in the land as inferior in rank to Harald Eriksson. It was also during that time that the new King Trygvi began to visit us. Whereas my father used to go to him, now he, his family, his hird, and many of his nobles came to us, for our lands lay at the midpoint of Vingulmark and could be reached by sail or wagon. Each spring our household scrambled to prepare space and food for them all, and each summer they arrived by the dozens with their entourages to plan and prepare. My father grumbled at the burden, but deep down I think he enjoyed the activity and the honor of hosting the king. Though he still fought by the king's side when called, he had long since stepped aside as one of his household warriors, and I think he missed that prestige. In some small way, these visits replaced that absence.

  I also think my father enjoyed seeing Queen Astrid, whom he and my mother, before her death, had fostered in her youth. It had been my father who had introduced the girl to King Trygvi, a bond that had further solidified my father's standing with the king and with her father, a nobleman who lived in the north of Vingulmark. But equally important, my father was fond of Astrid. Though he would never admit to it, I think she filled part of the hole left by the loss of my mother.

  Which brings me back to the present and why I was there with the son of King Trygvi and Queen Astrid, about to make a witless leap into the cold sea. About us stood a dozen other boys, all of them older and the sons of my father's men and other nobles, all of them calling for us to get on with it and jump. I knew them well, though I cannot say I liked them much, especially at that moment. Many had done this jump before, and I did not like how they hounded us.

  The actual jump did not concern me. I was small for my age, but I was agile too. I was confident I could leap and land correctly. My concern was for Prince Olaf, who was my charge each summer when the king visited. Should something ill befall him, I would not only feel the wound of worry for the boy, but also the sting of my father's lash for my failure, and the scorn of the king. Of the three, it was my father's lash and disapproval I feared the most.

  It only made matters worse that Olaf had not been invit
ed on this adventure. I had wanted to make the jump alone to prove myself to the older boys. But Olaf had heard me boasting to the others and so had begged to come along. I had tried to refuse him because the jump was dangerous and my father had put Olaf under my protection, but my protests went unheeded by the others. They wanted to see the king's son leap into the sea. Olaf, they argued, had the right to come, despite its danger. Inside, I knew that they did not care what an injury to him might mean to me — should something go wrong, they were not to blame — and I cursed them for that. And so instead of jumping alone, Olaf stood beside me, smiling, and I prayed to any god who would listen to keep Olaf safe from harm.

  “You jump here,” said a freckle-faced blond boy named Ulf, pointing at a spot on the bluff where a small stone jutted from the earth. He was the son of a landholder on Jel Island whose farm, Thordruga, lay close to my father's hall. The farm's name meant “compost heap,” so naturally, as children will do in their cruelty, we called Ulf, “Dung Heap.”

  “I know where I am to jump, Dung Heap,” I hissed as I removed my shoes and cloak and stepped to the edge of the bluff. Far below, the murky sea rolled toward the coast and crashed onto the stony beach. It would be cold, I knew, but the chill would not rival the pain of landing poorly. “I will go first,” I said to Olaf, who stood behind me. “If it is safe, then I will call to you to come after me.”

  The smile on Olaf's pudgy face stretched. I knew that look and lifted my hands. “Olaf! No!”

  Olaf ran forward. “See you at the bottom,” he hollered as he sprinted for the ledge and leaped into the air. The boys yelled their delight at Olaf's zeal, drowning out my own holler of dismay, for I had seen his foot slip as he vaulted from the ledge.

  Olaf never had a chance. From the moment he flew from the cliff, he struggled to keep his balance. His arms flailed. His feet pumped as if trying to run on the wind. But there was no stopping his body's momentum and its inexorable tilt. His whoop turned to a shriek as his frame inched ever more sideways. I watched hopelessly, unable to right his fall or help him. He hit the water with a smack of such awkward force that it echoed off the bluff and up to our awaiting ears.