When the Longships Came E-Book

Ross Richdale

• Herausgeber: Ross Richdale
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

When the Longships Came

Leseprobe

WHEN THE LONGSHIPS CAME

ROSS RICHDALE

ISBN 978-1-877438-45-5

In 865AD Vikings attack the female Bramingham Monastery in the Kingdom of Northumbria. The building is looted with everything of value taken by the pagans, Abbess Jane and senior nuns are slaughtered and the younger nuns abducted into slavery. Maiden Kendra, minding the monastery sheep on the top plateau during the attack survives.

One other survivor, postulant Jolene finds her and together they return to the monastery. Secrets are discovered that both help and hinder, including secret tunnels, a mine and evidence of clandestine trading with Vikings. A knight from the King's army arrives but is as ruthless as the Vikings. He is driven from Bramingham but places the monastery under siege. With winter coming there is every chance that they will be starved into submission.

One night, Kendra awakens to see a Viking standing by her bed. He is Rodmaf who tells her she is the daughter of Thorodd, a dying Viking chieftain who wants to see her before he dies. Under threat of having her friends killed, she agrees to accompany him back to his homeland. At the Viking village of Brodsted Kendra meets Hendrix, Thorodd's wife and the old man who is her father. She learns that her mother died giving birth to her and that Rodmaf is her half-brother. Thorodd dies and a terrified Hendrix tells her that they must leave otherwise they will be sacrificed at Thorodd's funeral.

*

CHAPTER 1

PART 1

KNOW THINE ENEMY

One of Maiden Kendra's duties at the Bramingham Monastery was to share the job of minding the monastery sheep while the nuns were at prayers. Every morning, one of the six girls who lived in the monastery with the abbess and fifty or so nuns had this extra job of letting the sheep out from their night pen and taking them up to the higher plateau where they were allowed to feed. This was where Kendra was now. The two-dozen sheep were content to munch the grass within a score of paces and did not bother to wander out of sight between the rocks. One hour before the summer sun reached its zenith, one of the nuns would come up the hillside and take over the duties.

At that time she would return down the hillside to the monastery that sat on a rocky peninsular overlooking the ocean and help serve the midday dinner for the nuns. Afterwards she would go to Sister Frances to help scribe the events of the day. Unlike most of the other girls her age, Kendra had been had been taught to read and write in English as well as runic, the crude angular letters the Vikings carved on wood.

Now, though, she had little to do for a couple of hours except take in the sunshine, relax and dream. As she leaned against a tree trunk with her skirt pulled up to expose her knees, she retied her plaits and let her mind wander.

She knew of no other home except the monastery but had resisted the trend to become a novice nun. It was after all, the Year of the Lord 864 and King Osbert ruled the Kingdom of Northumbria. However, in August, only a month ahead, it was her twenty-first birthday, if one could believe the writings in the monastery vault. On that day she would have to decide what her future would be or have the decision enforced upon her. The only alternative seemed to be to marry a visiting merchant or perhaps a knight of the realm. This was highly unlikely though, as she had not even a dram of noble blood in her veins.

Kendra gazed out from the shadow of the oak tree that she was sitting under. Damn, Molly the sheep was heading over a nearby rise! If nothing was done, all the monastery sheep would follow and disappear down the other side. Kendra rose, grabbed her hooked stick and scrambled up the slope and across to cut the flock off. She reached the top to where a view of the ocean to the north stretched away in the distance.

Usually the expanse of ocean was empty with only a fishing boat or two from the village a few leagues up the coast wallowing in the waves. Now though, the sight was far more ominous. There, less than a hundred paces from shore sailed, not one but three dreaded Viking longships that were used to attack places such their monastery along the coast. The ones before Kendra were massive ships under full sail with their oars held horizontal out of the water. The sails were black with a stylized eagle painted on them.

She gasped for these dreaded raiders were the Hævne Ørne or Avenging Eagles in English. Rumours that filtered through to the monastery by traders were that these were particularly ruthless warriors who had a personal grudge against Britons on these shores. Apparently during the summer before, they had attacked three other monasteries and slaughtered the monks. Coastal villagers found the few nuns who survived one attack on a female monastery like their own weeks later. They were all with child and abandoned by their captors, Details had been hushed up but it appeared that they had become sex slaves of the Vikings until their condition had made them a hindrance. They were abandoned to fend for themselves. Neglected by the orders that ran the monasteries because they had sinned, they now lived in the poorest hamlets with their children.

Kendra didn’t really understand how the nuns became with child or what sex slaves meant but she did know it was a fate worse than being killed.

But the feared enemy were here, now and still out of sight from the monastery on the other side of the rocky peninsular. She would have to warn Abbess Jane but even as she turned to run up the hillside, she knew it would be too late. By the time she ran back down the track to the building the longships would have landed.

Kendra stopped, sat down and tried to control her terror. What could she do? It would be cowardly to just hide and do nothing but how could she help if she was captured and … oh hell, tears formed in her eyes as she watched the three longships turn and move seaward. The sails on the three vessels were rolled up and she saw the oars dip in the water. The thirty or so oarsmen, behind the shields pulled each longship forward in a line just as the flotilla the rounded the peninsular.

She brushed away the tears sliding down her cheeks and attempted to slow her racing heart and shaking arms. If it was any consolation, the enemy would now be in sight of the observers who manned the monastery’s front balcony. If there were any plans about how the nuns would protect themselves in an emergency such as this, she had not heard of it. Of course as only a guest she was not informed about anything not related to her personal life. She had though, heard of secret vaults and tunnels beneath the building where retreats could be made.

Abbess Jane was a tyrant in her own right. The woman ruled through sheer fear and subjected her nuns to physical beatings as well as emotional bullying. Kendra almost smiled as she imagined how the attacking Vikings would react to Abbess’s acid tongue. She was old, over forty it was rumoured so would not be attractive as a slave. If she had her throat cut it would be too good for her!

Kendra flushed at her own evil thoughts and hoped no avenging angels had heard them. She stood shaking and decided she could only help by remaining hidden, after all. Above her, the sheep had turned and were now grazing nearby. She crawled up the slope rather than risking standing up and in sight of any lookout on the longships below, until she arrived back at the oak tree.

Now what?

There was a small cave a little further along the trail that she had discovered by chance a few weeks earlier when she had followed one of the sheep there in a rainstorm. Now, if she could chase the sheep there, they would all be out of sight and at least in the short term, safe.

*

After chasing the sheep into the cave and using rocks to make a fence to keep them safe, Kendra made her way back up the hillside. She kept to the trees so was reasonably sure that she would be undetected if any Vikings arrived. She lay behind a stony outcrop and gazed down. The three longships were beached on the sand as the high tide retreated. Footprints showed everywhere across the damp section of the sand but only six warriors were on the beach, fierce looking men with bearded faces beneath armoured headgear. They carried long axes and round shields also painted with the eagle symbol. Their clothes were the traditional armoured tunics, short plain coloured kilts, long socks and leather sandals. One glanced up and she ducked down almost certain he had seen her. However, nothing happened when she sneaked another peep out.

Something was happening! She saw a line of people walk onto the beach from the base of the stairs that led down from the monastery. It took her a moment to recognise that the people were the nuns, guarded on each side by Viking warriors with axes being used to probe any nun who stumbled. The nuns wore no headgear so their hair mostly cut short but a few had long hair that reached their shoulders. They wore no habit and were dressed only in their white undergarments of fascia, the long binding material that held their breasts, and loincloths. Even their legs, arms and bare feet were exposed. Several had their fascia unravelled. As they walked forward one attempted to hide her body but was yanked aside by a Viking who forcibly held her arms to her side so her breasts were exposed. She was allowed back in line but only after her fascia was removed. The unfortunate woman wore only loincloths to cover her lower body parts.

Kendra uttered a cry of dismay and made a move further down the hillside. It was a risk but by staying off the track and dodging between the large rocks that dotted the hillside she ended up reasonably close to the beach. The sound of breaking surf hid any voices but the view told her almost everything.

The women were lined up and stood facing the ocean while an officer walked along behind them and touched several on the shoulders. These were forced under threat of axe probes to step forward and remove their remaining undergarments. Kendra could see their bare posteriors and when ordered to turn around, their whole bodies. Even in the monastery, she had never seen more than her closest friends with no clothes. It was a sin to expose your body to others and unforgivable to allow males to see even your knees or elbows let alone everything... absolutely everything!

Three nuns resisted. Vikings stepped forward and in one violent move swung axes into the unfortunate women who collapsed on the sand in pools of their own blood. Kendra felt ill and almost retched at the sight.

But more happened. It appeared that the Vikings only wanted the young women with blonde hair for twelve nuns who were older or had dark hair were forced to kneel on the sand with their heads back. Vikings drew knives from their belts and bent over each of them. Kendra had seen sheep having their throats cut in the monastery abattoir and knew what was happening. The Vikings slit the women's throats as if they were animals. The bodies were all dropped back in the blood that flowed on the sand and ignored by the enemy.

Three redhead nuns were also made to crouch down but an officer stepped forward, said a few words to the would-be assailants and they were allowed to stand. The man ran his hands over their bodies while they stood obviously terrified but not daring to move as he walked around them, pulled each one back by the hair and slashed it half off with his knife, He appeared to laugh, held the red hair up for all to see but allowed the three to return to the line.

Out of the original nuns, girls and other workers in the monastery only twenty-eight, Kendra counted them, remained alive in that line on the beach. She swallowed more bile and continued to watch as something else unexpected happened. A Viking warrior with long blonde hair arrived on the beach. This warrior was different for it had no beard and was shorter and more petite than the others, Of course, she could see now. This Viking was a female! The woman walked along the line of prisoners and prodded a few with a stick she carried, again like a trader would do with a line of sheep or cattle,

To their credit, the nuns and other women never responded except, it appeared, to answer questions if they were spoken to. The female Viking walked up to the officer and waved her arms as if she was having a disagreement of some sort. He shrugged and issued an order to two, probably lower ranking officers behind him. They held their right clench fists up in a salutation, turned and walked across to three wooden trunks sitting on the beach. A couple of moments later they returned with white bundles in their arms. These were handed to each of the prisoners who were allowed to redress in the new clothing, white garments that reached from their shoulders to knees but with short sleeves that left elbows exposed. A guard stopped one nun who attempted to also replace her underwear.

At this point, the female Viking spoke to the main officer who again shrugged and shouted out indistinguishable words. The prisoners were all allowed to put on their fascias and loincloths beneath the new clothing. Now dressed, the twenty-eight stood up and Kendra could read stylised Viking letters across their backs. Each had a number below the letters KK. Could this stand for knikle kvinde or slave woman in the Viking language?

Afterwards the women were marched to the third longship that came in close to the beach and forced aboard. A score or more Vikings also clamoured aboard and it appeared that the women were being lashed back to back along a central isle. Afterwards, oars slid out and the craft moved away from shore. When it was beyond the waves, the longship turned, the square sail was raised and it moved quite quickly out to sea. Within moments it was like a toy in the distance before it disappeared from view.

The Vikings on the beach ignored the bodies and, except for now four guards beside the two remaining ships, returned to the steps and back out of sight up to the monastery.

Now Kendra could not stop her body reacting. She vomited on the grass and sat back, crying, shaking and covered in perspiration. Her friends and the only family she had ever known were gone; either killed or had been kidnapped as slaves to grow Viking babies within their bodies.

She broke into uncontrolled sobs and, unable look at the massacre on the beach again, made her way back to the cave. The sheep were there, waiting patiently for they did not know what had happened. Still sobbing, she moved the stones and allowed the flock to wander out into the afternoon sunshine to munch the grass,

Was she the only one to survive this slaughter and this small flock her only remaining family?

*

It was close to noon before Kendra had recovered her composure and slipped out across the hillside again. Nobody had come up the hillside and with the sheep munching grass in the sunshine; it could have been dreadful dream.

But it wasn't!

She saw the remaining two longships floating parallel to the shore before the beach itself came into view. The tide had retreated but above the high water line she saw the bloodstained sand but no bodies. Instead there was a long mound. At least the barbarians had the decency to bury the women they had killed.

She turned her eyes up to the longboats that were swarming with Vikings carrying and loading barrels and crates. As she watched a gigantic painting in a golden frame was lifted aboard. She knew it! This was the painting that graced the chapel where the nuns prayed. Statues, candles and other precious ornaments were handed up while one large life-sized statue of an angel was seemingly dropped on purpose from the deck. It landed on the sand and smashed in a hundred pieces.

"Why do that?' Kendra said aloud, her voice choked with emotion. "If you don't want it, why don't you just leave it? I'm sure even your gods don't condone wanton destruction."

The sound of her own voice made her slap a hand over her mouth as tears slid down her cheeks. What a foolish thing to do. What if her voice had been heard?

Nobody did, The Vikings' own shouts and voices, as well as the crash of breaking surf would have hidden her own plaintiff cries. But perhaps an Angel of Mercy had heard and offered protection. Kendra only half believed all she had been taught but at times like this it was a little comforting to feel that she was not entirely alone.

The sun was two thirds of the way across the southern sky and Kendra's stomach replaced the queasiness of fear with another signal. With no food since the porridge and bread for breakfast she was hungry and thirsty! She could get water from a small stream that tumbled down from the hills nearby were but what about food. It was too early in the season for apples in the orchard but the monastery gardens contained vegetables and herbs.

She sighed. The gardens were on cultivated land behind the monastery itself and surrounded by cliffs. This was perfect to protect them from predators, human or animal but was useless to her at the moment. To reach them she would have to go down a zigzag track and would be seen by anyone at the back of the monastery. So food would have to wait. She would have to see what the Vikings would do. Another rumour she had heard was that the longships always left before night fell. Some said it was because they wanted to be away from shore before the stars arrived while others commented that the Vikings were superstitious and always left before the souls of killed victims returned in the darkness for revenge.

Again, Kendra prided herself in that she was educated and above these pagan beliefs. She shuddered. The thought of being alone when darkness fell was not welcoming.

She continued to watch. It certainly appeared that the longships were being prepared to sail. Final loot was lifted aboard and a fire was started on the beach to burn wooden crates and other discarded items. White smoke rose and the tangy smell produced reached her nose. However, this wonderful sensation of wood fires cooking food and security made her react in the opposite way. Loneliness and despair wracked her body and she found herself again trembling and more tears formed in her eyes.

"Stop it!" she chastised herself, again speaking orally. "You are a woman, not a howling child!"

She took a small rag from her pocket, blew her nose, wiped her nose and felt a little better. At least she wasn't a slave in that other longship. With her plaited blonde hair and slim body, she was certain that was where she'd be if she had been caught.

*

CHAPTER 2

Kendra was wrong on both counts. The longships did not leave but she did find food to eat with the raw carrots, turnips and honey not a lot worse than the food she would have had for the evening meal at home. She now supported a bee sting on her right hand but the handful of delicious honey from the hollow oak tree made it worthwhile. The root crops came from a small, cultivated patch a few strides off the main track that led down the hillside while water from the stream quenched her thirst. She had also used it to splash over her sweaty arms, legs and face.

As the hours slipped by she watched those below. More loot was brought down from the monastery and it appeared that the longships were full, for stuff was now piled on the sand above the high tide mark. Later, the longships were rowed offshore through the breakers and anchored. The Vikings aboard just jumped overboard and swam ashore. Those on the beach dragged driftwood into a huge pile and a massive bonfire blazed away as the sun dropped over the western forest and twilight replaced the sunshine. It was still warm, though and in more normal circumstances, Kendra would have enjoyed her freedom up here away from the constraints of the monastery evening duties. She could smell the wood smoke and also that delicious aroma of cooking pork. No doubt the Vikings had slaughtered the monastery animals, including the pigs and milking goats.