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- Herausgeber: Alfredbooks
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
by Alfred Bekker The size of this book is equivalent to 413 paperback pages. The thirteen-year-old Viking boy Ragnar dreams of going on a great voyage and reaching the shores of unknown lands. Then his father sends him to Haithabu, where he is to be initiated into the secrets of shipbuilding... The dramatic adventures of a Viking boy - 4 volumes and an anthology . This ebook contains the following volumes: Alfred Bekker: Volume 1 In Haithabu Alfred Bekker: Volume 2 In Danger Alfred Bekker: Volume 3 In the Emperor's Palace Alfred Bekker: Volume 4 The Broken Sword Alfred Bekker writes fantasy, science fiction, thrillers, historical novels, and books for children and young adults. His books about THE REALM OF THE ELVES, the DRAGON EARTH SAGA, the GORIAN trilogy and his novels about the HALF-LINGS OF ATHRANOR made him known to a large audience. He co-authored suspense series such as Jerry Cotton, Commissioner X, and Ren Dhark. He also wrote crime novels, often focusing on bizarre characters - most recently the title THE DEVIL OF MUNSTER, where he turns a hero of his fantasy novels into an investigator in a very real series of crimes.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
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Alfred Bekker
Ragnar The Viking: The Whole Saga: Volumes 1-4
Inhaltsverzeichnis
Ragnar The Viking: The Whole Saga: Volumes 1-4
Copyright
Volume 1: In Haithabu
Volume 2: In Danger
Volume 3: In the palace of the emperor
Volume 4: The Broken Sword
Ragnar The Viking: The Whole Saga: Volumes 1-4
by Alfred Bekker
The size of this book is equivalent to 413 paperback pages.
The thirteen-year-old Viking boy Ragnar dreams of going on a great voyage and reaching the shores of unknown lands. Then his father sends him to Haithabu, where he is to be initiated into the secrets of shipbuilding... The dramatic adventures of a Viking boy - 4 volumes and an anthology .
This ebook contains the following volumes:
Alfred Bekker: Volume 1 In Haithabu
Alfred Bekker: Volume 2 In Danger
Alfred Bekker: Volume 3 In the Emperor's Palace
Alfred Bekker: Volume 4 The Broken Sword
Alfred Bekker writes fantasy, science fiction, thrillers, historical novels, and books for children and young adults. His books about THE REALM OF THE ELVES, the DRAGON EARTH SAGA, the GORIAN trilogy and his novels about the HALF-LINGS OF ATHRANOR made him known to a large audience. He co-authored suspense series such as Jerry Cotton, Commissioner X, and Ren Dhark. He also wrote crime novels, often focusing on bizarre characters - most recently the title THE DEVIL OF MUNSTER, where he turns a hero of his fantasy novels into an investigator in a very real series of crimes.
Copyright
A CassiopeiaPress book: CASSIOPEIAPRESS, UKSAK E-Books, Alfred Bekker, Alfred Bekker presents, Casssiopeia-XXX-press, Alfredbooks, Uksak Special Edition, Cassiopeiapress Extra Edition, Cassiopeiapress/AlfredBooks and BEKKERpublishing are imprints of
Alfred Bekker
© Roman by Author
COVER A.PANADERO
© of this issue 2023 by AlfredBekker/CassiopeiaPress, Lengerich/Westphalia
The invented persons have nothing to do with actual living persons. Similarities in names are coincidental and not intended.
All rights reserved.
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Volume 1: In Haithabu
The wave broke over the railing of the dragon ship. Buckets of water came into the ship and the next moment the water was ankle deep.
"Scoop!" shouted a hoarse voice, mingling with the howling wind.
Ragnar took one of the bailers and helped to scoop out the water from inside the ship. For safety's sake, the buckets were fastened with ropes so that they could not be torn overboard.
"Come on, before the next big wave comes, we need to have most of it scooped out!" one of the men shouted.
It was already the third big wave within a short time. But in the west it became brighter. The weather improved. But the gusts remained treacherous. The sideways wind then pushed into the sail with sudden force. The ship tilted and when a wave sloshed into it, it became dangerous.
They waited tensely for the next squall. It was impossible to predict when it would come.
An icy wind swept over the foamed water and drove the dragon ship through the waves. Spray splashed up. Ragnar Rothaar Einarson stood at the bow of the SCHAUMKRONE, a thirty-meter-long Schnigge. This was the name given to the smaller narrow dragon ships with a crew of up to forty men. The reddish hair stuck damply to Ragnar's head. He had just turned thirteen, and there was nothing better for him than to sail a dragon ship through the foaming sea.
In front, the ship lifted slightly, then lowered again.
This was not the open sea, but a large lake in the north of Holmgard. This lake was so large that it could almost be considered a small sea - but still it was not the same. Ragnar dreamed of one day sailing across the open sea in even larger ships, to lands no man had ever set foot on before. But it would be a few years before that happened.
Until now, his father Einar had prevented Ragnar from sailing on one of these ships as a ship's boy. He was still too young for that, he had said.
Ragnar, of course, disagreed, but he had to bow to the decision.
He let his eyes wander along the horizon. The sky was gray and the shore almost white, so that it could hardly be seen. In summer, dense forests could be seen there, reaching all the way to the lakeshore. But now there was still snow there.
After all, the ice on the lake had already thawed, so that it was possible to sail on it again. That was a sign that it would soon be spring.
Einar Einarson stepped next to his son and pointed to the shore. "We've got a good run on it. Not long now, we'll be docking! I just hope Oleg has good furs in store for us!"
"But how do you know where Oleg's camp is?" asked Ragnar. "It looks the same all along the shore!"
Einar laughed. "See that twice jagged mountain? You can just make it out very faintly through the haze."
"Yes, I see him!"
"That's where the helmsman is heading. The wind is favorable, we don't need to cross."
Suddenly, something caught Ragnar's eye. Something dark was rising from underneath the mountain.
Ragnar stretched out his arm. "There's black smoke rising!" he noted.
Einar's face darkened. He stroked his matted beard thoughtfully.
"This doesn't bode well!" he muttered.
Einar urged his men to greater haste. The oars were extended and the men put their backs into the oars to accelerate the ship even more.
A column of smoke rising above the trees from this distance could not simply have come from a campfire! And that at this time of year with all the wet snow a forest fire broke out, was also highly unlikely.
This left only one option.
Someone had raided the camp of the fur hunter Oleg and set it on fire. For Einar Einarson, this was a bad thought. He had become rich through the fur trade and needed a constant supply of good goods to resell. Oleg bought the furs from hunters in the area - and Oleg had always supplied him with the best and rarest pieces. Bear skins as well as sable and ermine, from which the ladies had the collars of their coats made at far away royal courts.
Ragnar also sat down on the rowing bench. The SCHAUMKRONE now shot through the water like an arrow.
Meanwhile, Einar's hand gripped the hilt of the sword he carried at his side. His face looked grim and determined. "Let someone dare to rob me of my furs!" he rumbled, although, strictly speaking, Oleg's furs were not yet his.
But for him it was his furs.
The whitecap approached the shore. For Ragnar, it was the first fur ride in which he participated. Until now, his older brother had always accompanied his father. His name was also Einar - like his father and grandfather. To be able to distinguish him, he had always been called red Einar, because just like Ragnar, he had inherited the reddish hair from his mother.
But that winter, Red Einar had died of fever. And so Ragnar now had to go along for the fur ride. When the rivers and lakes over which one could sail from Holmgard to the Baltic Sea were no longer frozen, the fur traders among the Vikings visited the Slavic hunters in the area to buy from them the furs they had hunted over the winter.
But sometimes it happened that individual Viking leaders did not follow the rules and simply robbed the fur hunters. In addition, the Slavic tribes, to which the hunters belonged, were also very often at war with each other.
But no matter what might be behind this case, Einar Einarson was not willing to let anyone walk away with the furs he thought he was entitled to.
For Ragnar, everything was new and the snow-covered embankment looked the same to him everywhere. But the others on board knew their way around. They found a place where it was easy to moor. Einar threw Ragnar a rope. He didn't need to be told what to do with it. He climbed into the bow, where the dragon's head of the SCHAUMKRONE protruded far forward.
With a jolt, the ship ran aground. Ragnar jumped ashore and pulled on the end of the rope. A few men jumped ashore shortly after and helped him. The end of the rope was looped around a gnarled tree, half of whose roots protruded into the water. On this tree were a few weathered runes. They had obviously been carved into the bark a long time ago.
"We're in the right place!" announced Einar, pointing to the runes.
Ragnar could pull these runic letters together with difficulty. From time to time, he had taken lessons from an itinerant teacher in Holmgard. But he was not really sure about it.
THOR PROTECTED THE FURRIORS OF EINAR EINARSON, it read.
Runes had magic power, or so they believed Vikings.
The thunder god Thor, who drove his goat-drawn chariot across the sky and hurled lightning, was supposed to guard Einar's men in this wilderness. At sea they felt safe and invincible, but here in the dense forests they were strangers.
Apart from his protective magic power, the inscription also made it clear to those other fur riders that the furs of this area were claimed by Einar Einarson and anyone who did not take this into consideration could expect trouble.
Five men had to stay with the ship.
At first Einar thought it was better if Ragnar stayed there too. But he protested.
"No, I want to go with you!" he demanded.
"I've already lost one son this winter - I don't want another to enter the dark realm of our god of the dead, Hel," Einar replied.
"But am I not to learn all that my brother had also learned? But how can I do that if I have to stay here with the ship?"
Einar thought about it for a moment, then changed his mind. "All right," he said, while the other men were already putting on their weapons and helmets to be ready for shore leave.
Einar handed Ragnar a short broadsword. "Take this. These woods are full of danger and you never know what will happen to you..."
The Vikings went ashore. Ravens sat cawing on the bare trees. Now and then branches cracked. The snow had become so wet and heavy that some branches simply could not hold the load.
The knee-high fur boots that Ragnar wore sank almost completely into the snow with the first steps. Then it got better. The ground under the snow cover was frozen hard. Tracks of various animals could be seen on the patches of snow between the trees. Einar marched in front and the others followed him.
In between, they stopped and listened. Voices could be heard very softly. Screams.
"Something is going on!" opined Thorfinn, one of Einar Einarson's experienced retainers.
"Then let's run faster! Maybe we can still prevent the worst."
The men rushed through the deep snow and Ragnar had to make every effort to keep up with them.
They finally reached a clearing where there were several wooden huts. Half of them were on fire. Black smoke was rising, forming a long plume. One of the huts had already burned down almost completely.
Warriors dressed in fur and armed with spears had rounded up prisoners in the center of the small settlement.
In the middle of the clearing was a pile of furs. Some of the warriors were busy tying them into handy bundles that could be easily carried on the back.
Now the warriors dressed in fur notice the arriving Vikings.
Loud screams rang out.
Ragnar did not understand the language of these warriors. Only one word he heard over and over again. "Rus!" the fur-clad shouted. "Rus!"
This meant "rower" and was the name given to the Vikings by the inhabitants of this land because they often rowed when they passed the rivers with their ships. The land around Holmgard was therefore often called "Russia".
The warriors dressed in fur were obviously very afraid of the Vikings. They took with them what skins they could carry and then ran away. They simply left the bound prisoners behind.
Within a short time, the attackers had disappeared into the undergrowth.
"Aren't they being followed?" asked Ragnar, addressing his father. Einar shook his head. "No, they are faster and know the woods better. Besides, there are more of them than us."
The shackles of the prisoners were loosened.
"How good that you helped us!" said one of the freedmen - a man with a fur cap and a chain of wolf's teeth. He spoke the Viking language with a strong accent.
Einar walked up to him.
"Oleg! I'm glad that nothing happened to you!"
"Nothing happened?" shouted Oleg. He pointed to the furs piled up in the middle of the settlement. "Those robbers have taken enough pelts from us, I'm afraid. And only the best pieces, of course!"
"We'll see what's left," Einar replied. "Do you have any idea who attacked you there?"
Oleg nodded. "A tribe we've had a dispute with recently. Unfortunately, they are much more numerous than we are!"
Einar held out his sword to Oleg and said: "Perhaps the men from your village should acquire a few of these excellent blades! Then the other tribes won't give you such a hassle very soon! Believe me!"
Oleg laughed. "You're only saying that for one reason, Einar Einarson! You must want to sell me some of those weapons!"
Einar winked at Ragnar. "You can't fool this guy, Ragnar!" Then Einar turned back to Oleg. "This is my son Ragnar, by the way."
"That's unmistakable. He's the spitting image of you, Einar - except he hasn't grown a beard yet!"
Einar raised his sword once again and handed it to Oleg. "What I said about this blade is still valid, though! Feel how this weapon feels in your hand!"
Oleg took the gun and nodded appreciatively. "Yes. That may be..."
"A blade from Damascus, forged by Arabs," Einar said. "These are the best smiths there are! Our ships bring these weapons across the Black Sea and the great rivers to the place you call Novgorod."
Novgorod was the name used by the Slavic tribes for the place called Holmgard by the Vikings.
Oleg weighed the sword in his hand. "And you could get me enough of these blades?", Oleg made sure.
"Of course! My trade relations go far..."
"But I'm afraid I can hardly pay for them!"
"What about the skins?"
"First of all, our enemies have stolen the best pieces away from us, and secondly, what we get in return is already budgeted."
"I can think of another source of income for you! I would have wanted to talk to you about that anyway," Einar said.
Oleg sighed. "Right now, I think we'll have enough to do with rebuilding everything. Some of our people are injured. But basically I'm interested."
"Do you trust your hunters to catch birds of prey? Eagles, buzzards, hawks and so on..."
"It's not easy, but it's possible."
"Catching, mind you!", Einar pointed out. "Nothing must happen to the animals."
"What happens to the animals?"
"They reach the south on the same way that the blades from Damascus come to Holmgard. In the court of the Caliph of Baghdad and in Cairo, birds of prey are taught to serve as hunting assistants. Learned animals bring in a fortune there!"
"I think I can help you there, Einar," Oleg promised.
"The prerequisite, of course, is that the animals are really not bent a feather!"
"Sure."
Einar bought Oleg the rest of the skins that the attackers had left behind. He paid with weight money - silver coins that came from all over the world and were used to pay by weight. If the weight did not match exactly, the coins were simply broken, which is why they were called breakage money. Coins from Baghdad were among them, as well as silver pieces with the head of the emperor of Constantinople.
"I will save some of it to afford blades from Damascus," Oleg said.
"You can pay them with captured birds of prey," Einar replied.
The Vikings loaded the cases on their backs. Ragnar also had to take a bundle. Then they marched back to the ship and climbed aboard. The skins were tied tightly. After all, they were not to go overboard if the SHAUMKRONE ran into turbulent weather.
Einar turned to his son.
"This was the last fur trader we visit on this trip," he explained.
"Then it's back to Holmgard now?"
"That's right."
"And when are you going out to the real sea?" asked Ragnar.
The lakes around Holmgard were all interconnected by rivers. Through this system of rivers and lakes, one could eventually reach the Baltic Sea, across which one had to sail if one wanted to reach the actual homelands of the Vikings.
Again and again, Ragnar had heard about it. About the island of Gotland, where one of the largest markets was located - or the distant Viking ports of Birka and Haithabu. Ragnar wanted to see all this with his own eyes.
While the whitecap was pushed off the shore and the wind fell into the sail, Ragnar thought about how he could still convince his father to let him go on the voyage as a ship's boy.
But the death of his brother had, of course, worsened the chances of this. After all, Einar was also thinking about who might succeed him if something happened to him.
Although Ragnar had other siblings, they were younger and it would be a while before any of them could help Einar.
It was already dark when the SCHAUMKRONE returned to the port of Holmgard. Holmgard was located on a small river that connected two lakes. The settlement was surrounded by a semicircle of sharpened wooden palisades, which were supposed to protect the place from outside attacks. In the center was a square where the Thing was held - the assembly of free men who decided everything and also held court when a crime had been committed. Among the houses, two different types were clearly distinguishable. The square log houses of the Slavs and the elongated wooden houses of the Vikings. Both populations lived peacefully together in Holmgard.
A number of ships were anchored in the harbor. Most of them were slender galleys, because in the interior of Russia a ship sometimes had to be towed over several kilometers over land from one river to another. And for that, overly large ships were simply unsuitable. But there were some of the larger ship types in the port of Holmgard. A couple of Skaids, which had crews of up to 60 men, or a Draken with up to a hundred men. And of course the Knorr, which was much wider than the other types used primarily as warships.
The large ships almost always came from the Baltic Sea, because on the high seas they had advantages over the smaller ones. For example, the walls were higher so that water could not wash into the interior so quickly when the swell was high.
However, only a few of the ships were operational at the moment. During the icy winter, many of them had sustained damage and now repairs were being diligently carried out everywhere. The hammering could be heard for miles around.
Einar smiled when he saw this. "It's a good thing we started so early - that way we were among the first whose ships were already operational!"
"Look, a particularly large Knorr!" said Ragnar admiringly, pointing to one of the ships, which was almost as wide as two Schniggen. On board were numerous animals - mainly horses and cattle - which were now being carefully brought ashore across a folded-out wooden bridge. One cow recoiled. A loud mooing could be heard. The animal slipped on the planks, got back on its feet and finally reached the shore.
"I know that painted wolf's head on the bow!" muttered Einar. "That's Björn Olavson's ship from Haithabu!" He nudged Ragnar. "Come, let us greet him! That he comes to Holmgard so early in the year can only mean that the waterways are now ice-free everywhere!"
Björn Olavson was a powerful Viking from distant Haithabu. A merchant and shipbuilder who went to Holmgard once or twice a year to bring goods there and return with a ship full of furs. Einar Einarson was good friends with him. Björn took a large part of the furs Einar acquired from the Slavic hunters on board his Knorr and then resold them at the Haithabu market.
Whenever Björn Olavson had come to Holmgard, Ragnar had listened eagerly to the stories the man told around the campfire. Stories of distant lands, which Ragnar also wanted to see.
While Einar's followers unloaded the furs and took them to the longhouse of Einar Einarson and his family, Ragnar and his father walked toward the mooring where Björn Olavson's Knorr was tied up.
NJÖRDS FREUDE was the name of Björn's ship, as could be seen from the runes that were clearly visible burned into the wood. Njörd was the god of the sea, who also controlled fire and wind. Among other things, he protected trade. In smaller runes under the ship's name was a spell to protect the ship and its crew from pirates and bad weather, and also noted who had built this Knorr: Björn Olavson, the best shipbuilder in Haithabu.
Björn's wealth was actually based on his skill as a shipbuilder. His ships were widely praised - and if it was branded with who had built it, that should encourage anyone who saw the ship to also commission a ship from Björn Olavson.
Björn was a very tall, broad-shouldered man. A long-handled battle axe hung from his belt. A long straight sword he wore girded across his back.
The flaxen beard grew almost to under his eyes. He wore a helmet with a low nose guard, which already showed some scratches and dents. Dents that testified to the fact that this helmet had probably saved the life of its wearer many times.
"Greetings, Einar!" exclaimed Björn when he saw Einar Einarson. "I hope you have a sufficient cargo of furs for me, so that I don't have to sail back to Haithabu with a half-empty Knorr!"
"We just got back from a fur trip, and if you want, you're welcome to check out the goods later - after you've had plenty of mead and some food in my house as a guest!"
"The offer of your hospitality I gladly accept!" said Björn. "And the mead I drank last time I was in your house is the best beer I've had in a long time. I hope you have a few barrels of it I can buy from you!"
Einar laughed. "Certainly! The mead comes from Kiev! My supplier was here three weeks ago - but our harbor was still iced over then, so his schnig had to dock five miles south."
Björn Olavson frowned. "You're not telling me you're going to add something to the price because you had to carry the mead barrels miles across the country!"
Einar grinned. "Since you mention it, Björn... Of course it's reflected in the price!"
Björn laughed boomingly and slapped Einar amicably on the shoulder. "One can really learn how to haggle and drive up prices from you, Einar!" He exclaimed, amused. Then he turned to Ragnar. "Your oldest hasn't grown at all since last year, Einar!"
"That is not my elder," Einar replied. His tone changed at that. "Ragnar is my second-born son. Red Einar died of fever this winter."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Björn said. He looked Ragnar up and down once. "How old are you now?" he asked.
"Thirteen years," Ragnar provided information.
"Can you read the runes?"
"To some extent. Every now and then an itinerant teacher comes by to teach me and also tell me the old stories about the gods..."
"Are you interested in ships?"
"I dream of being a ship's boy on one of the big Drakes that sail all the way to Iceland!"
"Then I don't understand why you are still here in Holmgard! After all, many ships sail from Holmgard!"
"My father thinks I'm too young to be on a seagoing ship," Ragnar said meekly.
Björn frowned. "Too young? One can be divided on that. But you're definitely old enough to learn something. A good trade, for example, that you need everywhere and is well repaid in every place."
"Honestly, I don't know what they're talking about now," Ragnar said.
"Shipbuilding, of course! I suppose you've inherited your father's cunning and business sense - if you learn how to build good ships on top of that, you'll never have to worry about making a living! If you want, you can learn the shipwright's craft in my workshop in Haithabu!"
Ragnar looked at his father.
It was quite common for the sons of rich and distinguished Vikings to be sent to acquaintances to receive an education. And as far as shipbuilding was concerned, Björn Olavson was certainly one of the best teachers imaginable.
Björn smoothed out his beard and then continued, "I know you'd rather go straight to sea, Ragnar. I felt the same way at your age. But think about it for a moment: You'll learn the trade with me for two or three years, and after that, any Viking captain will be happy to take you anywhere. But not just as a ship's boy! But as a full-fledged follower who gets his fair share of the booty or the profits of the voyage! Well, what do you say? Wouldn't that be something for you?"
The idea of learning the shipbuilder's trade in Haithabu appealed to Ragnar. People who knew how to do this were much sought after by the captains, because during longer sea voyages it was always the case that ships needed to be repaired. Sometimes, when a Viking fleet was exploring unknown territory, it was even necessary to go ashore to make a smaller dinghy, which could then be used to explore very shallow waterways.
"That's a very generous offer," Ragnar said.
"It's an offer I don't make to just anyone," Björn replied. "But I do to Einar Einarson's son! Think about it! You won't regret it!"
Ragnar would have liked to agree immediately. But he knew that he would have to discuss it with his father first. So he just thanked him again for the offer. Björn said that he would probably stay in Holmgard for three days. "You must have decided by the time we leave again."
"We will discuss it," promised Einar Einarson, who must have noticed that his son was quite enthusiastic about the idea.
A man with a fur-trimmed helmet approached Einar. He eyed Björn disparagingly. He gave Ragnar only a brief glance and then turned to Einar.
"I hope I'm not too late to buy some sable skins from you," he said.
"I'm sorry, I already promised Björn Olavson the entire load!"
"And you don't have some sable and ermine furs for me? Everything else may get who wants, I am only interested in the most valuable furs!"
Now Björn Olavson interfered. "Who is this man, Einar?"
"That's Hakan Holgarson," Björn introduced him. "But they also call him Hakan the Stingy, because no one is able to bargain down the prices like him!"
"It sounds like you're a dangerous man, Hakan!" laughed Björn.
But Hakan Holgarson made a throwing away hand gesture. "I'm not going to get a chance to bargain, after all, since you were faster and already snatched everything away from me!"
"Listen, Hakan," Björn then demanded. "I don't want you to be unhappy. So pick out a sable and an ermine skin each, and make a price with Einar about it! I will grant you that!"
Hakan Holgarson sighed. "At least it's better than nothing!"
Ragnar knew Hakan Holgarson quite well. The stingy man was a unique negotiating talent. But in this case, even his negotiating skills were probably of no use to him.
However, Hakan's nickname of the Miser was not only due to his skill in bargaining down prices.
He was also notorious for breaking the coins of the silver weight money not only into two pieces, but sometimes into three or four.
In addition to the sword, he carried a hammer at his side. It hung in a loop on his wide belt, whose bronze buckle was decorated with fine engravings.
A piece of the hammer had broken off on the striking side, creating a sharp, jagged edge. When he used it to split a coin, this jagged line could be seen afterwards on the edge of the piece. And if he didn't hit it right, this shape dug into the soft silver like an imprint.
When Ragnar had been little, he had once asked Hakan the Miser quite bluntly why a man like him, who was quite rich and prosperous, could not afford a new hammer.
"I can already afford it!", Hakan Holgarson had said at the time. "But I don't want it! Because this piece has brought me luck! And I think it is Thor himself who holds his hand over me, because I have been faithful to this hammer! There's no way I'm giving it up!"
Einar went back to the foam crown together with Ragnar and Hakan Holgarson. Some of the cargo was still to be found there. Einar instructed Ragnar to open one of the bundles of furs so that Hakan could choose a good piece of fur.
Hakan the Greedy was very particular about it and Einar Einarson was already rolling his eyes.
Having finally made up his mind, Hakan reached for the pouch on his belt. The silver pieces he slid into his palm were mostly very small and many of them showed the typical jagged line on the edge.
"It's always a pleasure doing business with you, isn't it?" said Einar after they had reached an agreement.
"You sold the rest of your pelts prematurely!" retorted Hakan Holgarson. "I bet your buyer didn't give you such a good price!"
When Hakan had gone, Einar turned to Ragnar. He showed him his hand full of silver pieces. "Look at this, how much Hakan paid!"
"And he wasn't even really persistent in acting!" agreed Ragnar.
Einar laughed. "No comparison to his other haggling! He must really need those furs very badly!"
Björn and his men enjoyed hospitality in the house of Einar Einarson. Not only Einar's family lived in this house, but also his retainers and their relatives. These were free men who worked for Einar or served on his ship. In addition, there were serfs, servants and maids and their children, who also lived in the large longhouse, which consisted of only one room. On both sides, mounds of earth were heaped up, covered with mats and straw sacks. There they sat and slept at night.
Only the master of the house and his wife had a closet-like wooden hut to themselves for sleeping. Such a thing was called an alcove, which came from the Arabic word for niche.
Einar had built it only last year and Björn Olavson admired it very much.
"Al-Kubba is what the Arabs call it," Einar said.
"A very inventive people," Björn said appreciatively. "Didn't they also have the custom of training birds of prey to hunt?"
"That's how it is. But there are also very strange customs among them. For example, their knights are said to sing songs to the lute of a beloved woman."
"This is a custom that should spread quietly to us!" interfered Solveig Thorbjörn's daughter. She was Ragnar's mother, easily recognizable by her red hair. "Dinner is ready," she said, "None of your men shall close their eyes hungry or thirsty today!"
Björn grinned. "That sounds good," he said.
Ragnar listened to the stories around the fire. Björn Olavson and his men had eaten a lot first. Afterwards, the drinking horns were filled with mead again and again. There was an exuberant mood.
Björn reported news that had happened in Haithabu.
"I have now been elected Jarl," Björn reported.
"My congratulations," Einar returned. "But to your standing, this choice is entirely appropriate."
"It is also not always easy to settle the disputes. The most important thing is to protect the lives of the foreign merchants who come to Haithabu. After all, they have no clan to support them in the event of a dispute, and they are completely alone in the event of a dispute! If you don't protect them, they will stay away from the market of Haithabu and that in turn would have devastating effects."
A Jarl was elected by the free men. Usually, a particularly respected or wealthy man was appointed.
"Among you, the Jarl is now subordinate to a king, if I'm informed correctly," Einar noted. "That means you are not only dependent on the Thing for your decisions..."
"It's still different up here with you guys, I know," Björn nodded.
"What do you mean - yet?"
Björn laughed and took another sip of mead. "We didn't choose to have a king over us either. But we had to unite against enemies. The German king would be only too happy to take possession of Haithabu with his Saxon warriors and make it his own port. And should the Slavic tribes around Holmgard ever unite against you, you'll have the same problem here, and you'll surely raise a king over you, too!"
Einar shook his head. "The tribes of this area are constantly at war with each other. It is very unlikely that they will unite against us!"
"I wish you to be right!" Björn took a pouch from his belt and opened it. It was filled with silver weight money. In the glow of the fire, the coins were easy to see. "Some think you can predict the future from the throwing of bones or the condition of certain organs in slaughtered animals. I can from these coins!"
Ragnar moved a little closer to the fire to see better. He frowned and wondered what Björn might have meant. Was the Jarl of Haithabu perhaps going to perform some magical ritual here and now? Then he didn't want to miss it.
Einar frowned skeptically.
"Look at these coins, Einar!" said Björn. "I took most of it at a market on Gotland. Most of the silver is Arab dirhem, and a smaller portion shows the head of the Emperor of Constantinople."
"I don't know what you're getting at, Björn!" admitted Einar, shaking his head.
"There is a stream of silver from Constantinople, Arabia and Persia flowing from south to north through the land of Rus - always along the rivers. I tell you, this mighty stream of silver will sooner or later arouse the greed of envious people! Word will get out about the riches being carried across the rivers in our ships, and some of those who hear about it will set out to take some for themselves. The first ones will be repelled, but more will come and sooner or later, even in the land of Rus, we will have to unite under kings to defend ourselves together! That is the future I see for you here in Holmgard, Einar."
Ragnar listened intently as Björn spoke of how it was actually inevitable that a king would eventually be raised in the land of Rus as well.
But as time passed, he digressed and spoke more and more about the long journeys he had made. He told of the mysterious, misty land where there were fire-breathing volcanoes and icy glaciers.
"Iceland is what it's called."
"I have heard about it. Aren't there supposed to be hot springs there, whose water can suddenly splash up more than two ship lengths high?" asked Einar.
"These springs exist. They are called geysers. I have seen them with my own eyes - just like the fire-breathing mountains. Unfortunately, there is little fertile land there - and what little there is is already spread out. But that's a good thing, too."
"Why?"
Björn lowered his tone and continued speaking more quietly. "Because that's why there was very little forest on Iceland - and it's been almost completely cut down by now!"
Ragnar understood immediately. "That means Icelanders can't build houses or ships!" he snapped.
Björn turned to him. It wasn't really appropriate for him to interrupt when the adults were talking, but Björn Olavson didn't seem to take it amiss with Ragnar. He nodded with a smile.
"You're a smart one, Ragnar! That's the way it is! The Icelanders have to get their wood from elsewhere. There are already several shipmasters in Haithabu who have gotten into this business of bringing wood to Iceland - and I myself am thinking of getting into this business." Björn winked at Ragnar. "Personally, of course, I would love it most if the Vikings of Iceland would not only buy lumber from me - but entire ships! I could make a much higher profit that way!"
As time passed, the conversation became less interesting for Ragnar. Björn and Einar began to haggle over the price of the mead barrels.
Ragnar let his eyes wander through the hall of the longhouse. Bjorn's men were all having a great time. But two of them caught Ragnar's eye. One had a scar across his cheek under his left eye. Around the other's neck hung an amulet carved from the ivory of a walrus tooth. It represented a hammer and was supposed to exert a magical protective effect on its wearer.
Mjöllnir!, Ragnar immediately thought. That was the name of the hammer of the thunder god Thor. Magical dwarves had once forged Thor this hammer of legend, and it could be made as large or as small as the thunder god pleased. When Thor hurled the hammer, Mjöllnir hit with each throw and returned to the outstretched hand of the god. At the same time, Thor used to stand wide-legged on his chariot drawn by two he-goats, with which he drove across the sky. Under its wheels there was a flash of lightning. The earth shook and began to burn, and the rocks cracked. One spoke then of the roar of Thor - the thunder. That's why another name of Thor was Donar and even a day was named after him - Thursday.
The man with the Mjöllnir amulet kept grasping the miniature ivory hammer with his right hand, and it almost seemed to Ragnar as if he needed the thunder god's magical protection in a special way.
The man said nothing. He just sat there while the man with the scar kept talking to him. But so quietly that not a single word reached Ragnar.
In any case, it was striking how serious they were.
One of the bonded maids who served in Einar Einarson's house came to them with a jug of mead to fill their drinking horns.
But, amazingly, they both declined.
The man with the Mjöllnir amulet now stood up and went to the door of the house.
"Now wait, Snorre!" the man with the scar shouted after him at least loud enough to distract some of the other men for a short time and make them turn around.
He now rose as well and followed the man he had called Snorre. As he did so, he bumped his foot against a jug of mead that belonged to one of the other men who were in Björn Olavson's service.
"Can't you be careful, Leif?" hissed the man, whose pants were now soaked with mead.
"Don't make such a fuss!" the man with the scar muttered and tried to push his way past, but the man with the stained trousers now stood up as well. Only now could it be seen that he towered over the man with the name Leif by almost a head and a half.
A giant of a man.
He had caught Ragnar's eye at the very beginning because of this, and he believed that there was probably no other man in all of Holmgard who was anywhere near the same height.
The giant grabbed Leif by the upper arm before he could escape.
"Wait and don't just steal away like that, Leif. At least you could apologize! You haven't lost an eye in battle yet. Surely you can see where you're stepping! Or is it too much to ask to be a little careful?"
"It's all right!" growled Leif, who obviously had nothing else in mind but to get to the door as quickly as possible. Snorre had already stepped outside in the meantime.
All at once there was silence in the longhouse.
No one said a word - but here and there hands wandered to the sword handles and axe handles.
"I don't want a fight in my house!" declared Einar Einarson unequivocally.
Leif and the giant were glaring at each other with disparaging looks. Both were very upset and Ragnar did not really understand why. A real reason for a solid argument was actually not present.
Einar turned to Björn Olavson. "It is your people among whom the quarrel has broken out, so it is also up to you to arbitrate between them."
"I'd like to do that," Björn said, rising now. He clamped the thumbs of his hands behind the wide belt he wore. "Do not abuse the hospitality of Einar Einarson," he said very seriously.
"Tell him to apologize!" growled the giant.
Leif took a deep breath and then pressed out, "I'm sorry, Knut!"
Knut let go of him. "There you go! There you go! And in the future, make sure you don't spill any more mead, you jerk."
Leif turned around and went to the door. He slammed it noisily behind him.
"Nothing happened worth mentioning!" said Björn Olavson.
And Einar added: "There is still much mead to distribute! Who still has thirst, may lift his empty drinking horn!"
The matter seemed to be quickly forgotten among the men. Ragnar heard Björn tell Olavson that the two quarrelsome men had not gotten along well from the beginning. "Actually, I had thought that the matter would be out of the world by now - but I guess I was wrong!"
"One of them will probably have to go his own way in the future," Einar surmised.
Björn shrugged his shoulders. "Good people are hard to find," he said. "That doesn't make a decision like this easy. And besides, they've always gotten their act together so far..."
Snorre and Leif returned to their host's longhouse very late. Everyone was already asleep. Ragnar woke up and watched as the two men crept to their sleeping places and wrapped themselves in their blankets.
Where had they been for so long, Ragnar wondered. In any case, they had calmed down again. Ragnar was still very tired and so he soon fell asleep again.
When he awoke the next morning, he found that Snorre and Leif's blankets were rolled up.
The two men seemed to have gotten up early, while the rest of the Vikings were still fast asleep. Some of them were probably still humming in their skulls because it had gotten much too late last evening and they had simply drunk too much mead.
Gradually, everyone who had been sleeping in Einar Einarson's longhouse woke up. People stretched and little by little voices were heard.
The conversations of the previous evening continued. Ragnar listened to the amazing tales of distant lands and the dangers at sea. He always found it fascinating to listen to the accounts of experienced seafarers when they described how ships had capsized and other Vikings had attacked and plundered them - or how they had robbed temples, monasteries and cities in distant lands. There were so many lands and such wondrous things that it was hard to imagine. With some reports, Ragnar also wondered whether they could correspond to the truth at all.
However, Ragnar had hardly gotten up when his mother pressed a bucket into his hand.
"Get some water," she said.
Ragnar knew that any contradiction was futile. Not only the serfs and slaves had to carry water, so that there was always enough in the house, but also the eldest of the master of the house.
"Only make the bucket half full," his mother advised him. "It's heavy enough."
"I can carry more too!"
She smiled. "For now, maybe, but if your back hurts every time you move later, no one will have anything to gain from you filling the bucket too full today!"
Ragnar went to the riverbank with the bucket. He was not the only one who had been sent from Einar Einarson's longhouse to fetch water. Several children of serfs and retainers were also on the way.
So he went to the shore and filled the bucket with water.
Most of the time he would then spend a few moments looking at the ships in the harbor.
Björn Olavson's Knorr was clearly the largest and most impressive ship. It had been moored to one of the jetties that jutted out into the river. Smaller ships were simply pulled up the shallow embankment.
Near the shore there were some simple wooden buildings that served as warehouses. Goods coming from the south were unloaded here, stored and later transferred to larger ships, which then finally reached the Baltic Sea via several rivers and lakes.
In addition, several shipyards had settled near the shore. Ships that had been damaged en route could be repaired here by skilled craftsmen, and new ships were also built from time to time.
A half-finished Schnigge could be seen on the river beach. The removable dragon head was still missing as well as the mast and part of the planks.
When Ragnar came out from behind one of the warehouses, he spotted Snorre and Leif. They did not notice him, but stood a little apart from the others who were already in the harbor at this early hour. Besides those who were fetching water for their houses, these were mainly guards who had been assigned to guard the harbor. The valuable goods that changed hands there naturally attracted envious people who would have liked to have these possessions as well. So it was always necessary to make sure that enough guards were assigned.
A cool wind swept over the whole place and carried the conversation between Snorre and Leif at least partly to Ragnar's ear.
"Björn Olavson will be surprised."
"Yeah, I'm looking forward to the look on his face when he finds out the truth!"
"But then it will be too late!"
"You said it!"
"How good that he trusts us completely..."
"I just hope that everything goes smoothly! Otherwise Bjorn Olavson's wrath will strike us, I tell you! And then have mercy on us Thor!"
Ragnar could not understand the rest, just as he could not have said exactly which of the two had actually said what. Leif turned around and let his gaze wander over the harbor. Briefly, he also looked in Ragnar's direction. Leif had gray eyes like the falcons that were sold to the Arabs from Holmgard.
Then he turned around again and pulled Snorre along with him. Ragnar could only understand fragments of what the two were now talking about.
"Hey, do you fall asleep standing up?" a voice suddenly asked from behind.
Ragnar winced. He turned around and looked into the face of Thorfinn, the experienced henchman of Einar Einarson, who was also called Thorfinn the Gray because his hair had turned gray just like his long beard. He pointed to the bucket of water that Ragnar had set down. "I would imagine that someone is waiting for it!"
"Yes," Ragnar said.
Then Thorfinn's gaze fell on the NJÖRDS FREUDE, Björn Olavson's Knorr. A smile slid across the gray's face. "Yes, now I understand. There is already a special ship. It's enough to make you dream for a moment!"
"Björn Olavson must really be an excellent shipbuilder," Ragnar commented.
"What you can bet on! I have sailed on ships that Björn has created! Nothing comes out of the glue, even after years, and the pitch seals don't let anything through. He just has a feeling for the wood and knows what a log can become and how far you can bend it..."
"Do you know Snorre and Leif?" asked Ragnar, pointing to the two who were now boarding NJÖRDS FREUDE.
"These are two men from Björn's entourage! I think they were definitely there last year and the year before last when Björn docked his ship in Holmgard."
"What do you think of them?"
"Honestly, I don't know them any further. We drank mead together and had no quarrel. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing," Ragnar agreed.
He brought the bucket of water to the longhouse, where his mother was already waiting for it.
"Your father wants to talk to you," she said, "I guess it's about whether you're going to Haithabu on Bjorn's ship to learn shipbuilding..."
"Yes," was all Ragnar said.
His mother smiled. "I'd rather have you here, of course. That's what I told Einar, too. But on the other hand, it's a chance for you to learn something - and from one of the best teachers imaginable." She put a hand on Ragnar's shoulder. "So, even though it's hard to let you go - I know how important it is to learn something. You can't let an opportunity like this pass you by!"
"Yes, I think so too, mother," said Ragnar.
He found his father a little later behind the longhouse, where he was sorting hides according to different qualities. He put the sable skins he had bought from Oleg's tribe on the pile.
"Here look at these pelts! Excellent quality they are!" said Einar when he noticed Ragnar. "Too bad about the pelts that were taken by the robbers! Oleg will be upset about that too! I just hope Oleg takes my advice and buys some of the swords from Damascus."
