Viking's Sunset

Henry Treece

Description

The idea of Harald Sigurdson’s last voyage came to Henry Treece when a young friend of his told him of the finding of the prow of a Viking longship in a lake in North America. He set out to devise a story round the kind of man who could make this incredible voyage from Scandinavia to the then unknown continent. This is the story of how Harald and his friend Giant Grummoch set out in pursuit of marauding Vikings who have raided their homesteads, but instead of catching Haakon Redeye and his vicious companions, are swept by rough seas to far-off Greenland. Here they are befriended by Eskimos, and then sail still further westwards, to the land of the redskins, where Harald meets warriors as proud as his own, and fights against treachery crueller than death itself.
In this final, moving volume of Henry Treece’s trilogy of the Vikings, there is a shatteringly vivid picture of the stark fate of these early seafarers, and of the brave spirit with which they rose to meet it.

Sujets

• Viking
• Fiction
• Romance
• Historical

Informations

• Publié par: Rare Treasure Editions
• Date de parution: 11 novembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781774644829
• Langue: English

Extrait

Viking's Sunset
by Henry Treece

First published in 1960
This edition published by Rare Treasures
Victoria, BC Canada with branch offices in the Czech Republic and Germany
[e-mail]
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 or retrieval system, except in the case of excerpts by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

Viking’s Sunset



by

HENRY TREECE

For Gary Faysash--
who told me of the longship prow

About this Book
This is the third and last book about Harald Sigurdson.In VIKING’S DAWN , he was a lad of fifteen, voyagingin the longship Nameless to the Hebrides; in THE ROADTO MIKLAGARD , he and the giant Grummoch made thelong journey down to Constantinople to join the PalaceGuard there. Now, in VIKING’S SUNSET , Harald is amature man and the date is a.d. 815.
In this book he is a prosperous farmer, with a family ofhis own, who sails out from Norway on a voyage of revengeand, almost by accident, reaches Iceland and laterthe southern tip of Greenland, before setting off again, in Long Snake , to even stranger places. . . .
Here I should halt a moment to say that recorded historytells us that Iceland was discovered by one Naddoddin a.d. 867, and Greenland in a.d. 985, by Eric Rödewho was flying from Norway to escape a charge of manslaughter.
But I have a theory that recorded history, especially ofthe early voyages, often lags behind actual history. Forinstance, we don’t really know when the early Mediterraneantravellers first ‘discovered’ Britain--though recordedhistory tells us that the Greek astronomer Pytheascame here in the fourth century b.c. I would guess thata cautious scholar like Pytheas would have a pretty goodidea, from unrecorded travellers’ yarns, what he was goingto find!
And so I feel justified in letting Harald Sigurdsonanticipate Naddodd by a mere fifty-two years. After all,the longships of Harald’s time were superb creations, quitecapable of the voyages I describe; and the questing spiritof the Northmen was as lively in a.d. 815 as it was in a.d. 867.
In my other books I have tried to describe what vikingswere like, but to explain VIKING’S SUNSET I mustadd a little more. The Northmen were immensely braveand hardy; they were also savage and superstitious.They were still pagans when the rest of Europe had longbecome Christianised. In some ways they were like children--verydangerous children! To the Franks, Englishand Irish, they seemed like devils, and prayers were offeredup in the churches as a protection against them. Onthe other hand, when the odds were in favour of theEnglish, they treated these Northmen ruthlessly, evenflaying them and nailing their skins on church doors, orflinging the ambushed marauders into adder-pits. Therewere no doubt faults on both sides, for in history no oneis ever completely in the right.
What attracts me most about the Northmen is theirstory-telling. From the Sagas we learn of many fantasticpeople and their incredible adventures, all told with thegreat craft and gusto of the Skald. Sometimes, these talesare full of repetition--as children’s fairy-tales often are--andsometimes they are told so laconically, so briefly,that we almost have to guess what really happened! Butalmost always they are told with a dry and even a grimsense of humour, for the men of the North were notgiven to self-pity. They joked even in the face of death;which, after all, was to them only the beginning of a newlife in Valhalla, the ‘Slaughter Hall’.
In this book I have made an attempt to use the vikingstyle of story-telling, whenever it seemed right. I havealso tried to show what a berserk was like, for I thinkthat we must consider these strange creatures if we are tounderstand many of the things our curious forefathers did.
The bullfighter, dressing-up to go into the arena; theboxer, chatting with his seconds before a fight; the racing-driver,laughing at a funny story in the ‘pits’ beforethe flag goes down, are all brave men: but they are takinga calculated risk, which they assume will bring themmoney--the more the better!
The berserk , stamping himself into a fury, biting hisshield-rim, bellowing in the cold air without a stitch onhim, had no fortune to gain by his actions. If he saw anythingawaiting him at all, it was a grimly-held wall ofspear-points, just fifty yards away. . . .
Undoubtedly, the berserk was crazy; but, as AlanBreck said to Davy Balfour in Kidnapped , ‘Och, man,but am I no a bonny fechter!’ And who can help likinga bonny fechter, however crazy he may be?
One more point: in Minnesota there was discovered astone inscribed with viking symbols. This fact struck nochord in my mind until one day an American boy whocomes to see me said, ‘Didn’t you know, some of ourarchaeologists have found the prow of a longship in oneof the lakes?’
Then I did know--not in the historian’s way, but inthe story-teller’s way--just what happened to HaraldSigurdson and his shipload of vikings!
What I ‘know’ I am telling you in this book; but whatHarald Sigurdson found out, he told to no man, for reasonswhich you will discover.
The Voyage of the Long Snake
Chapter 1 The Barn-Burners
It was Spring. Harald Sigurdson and Giant Grummochwere tending a sick cow up above Jagsfjord, with thewind blowing them half off their feet, when a shock-headedthrall came running up the hill to them.
Grummoch heard him and said, ‘That is Jango No-breeches.When he runs the world’s end is near, for he isthe laziest thrall between here and Miklagard.’
Jango called out to them, long before he reached them,‘Come quickly, masters!’
Harald said, ‘If the meat is burning, turn the spit androast the other side. This cow is in calf and it would illbecome me to leave her because the meat was burning.’
The thrall began to wring his hands. The wind carriedaway his words the first time. Then they heard him say,‘The meat is burning with a vengeance, master. But itwould ill become me to meddle with it.’
Harald Sigurdson had grown into a stern man, withgrey wolf’s hair, in the twenty years he had been headmanof his village, after the death of Thorn. Now fewmen dared stand against him in his anger, save Jomsvikingsor Russians from Kiev, and they did not come upthe hill every day.
But the thrall would not be silent. He ran to Haraldand even took him by the sleeve of his leather jacket,which was a thing few men would have done save GiantGrummoch, who was his blood-brother and the secondfather to Harald’s two sons, Svend and Jaroslav.
The thrall said, ‘A wise man would come, even iftwenty cows lay on the turf in calf, Harald Sigurdson.You have three barns a-burning, and your wife, AsaThornsdaughter, leaving her broken spinning-wheel inbitter tears over the wounds of your two sons.’
Harald turned to him now and said, ‘I shall whip youfor stealing the barley beer we had laid by for the Springfeasting, Jango No-breeches. You have fallen asleep anddreamed a dream. You listen too much to the skaldsabout the night-fires. Go back and dip your head in abucket of water.’
The thrall flung himself onto the turf and began to rollabout, wailing, for he was of the Irish folk and given tosuch demonstrations. Grummoch picked him up with onehand and held him out before him like a girl’s rag doll,with his two legs dangling.
‘Say your message, if there is one, then go home like agood dog,’ he said gruffly, his beard wagging close to thefrightened thrall’s face.
Jango No-breeches said, ‘By Saint Colmkill and theWhitechrist, Haakon Redeye has been here while youwere away. What torch has not done, axe has achieved.Down there is no more village left than a man could stowin a longship and carry away--and all charred timber.’
Giant Grummoch put the man down.
The thrall said, ‘I bring black news, not white, master.Many have gone to Odin in the last hour. Many havemade the long dark journey and hang by their necksfrom the trees. Haakon Redeye brought eighty berserkswith him, and only the young folk and the old were leftin the village. How could they stand against eighty berserkswith war axes and spears? Your sons were hurt withthe others.’
Harald said, ‘I do not ask if they are badly hurt, or nearto death. I only ask if they carry their wounds on theirchests.’
The thrall nodded. ‘Aye, master,’ he said. ‘On theirchests and their arms and their heads--but not on theirbacks.’
Grummoch, who loved the two boys, took up a piece ofblack bog-oak as thick as a man’s lower leg, and broke itacross his thigh to show his rage.
‘In all the Northland,’ he said, ‘there is only one manwho would do such things to old folk and young folk,and that man shall feel his neck snap like this twig beforethe day is over.’
The thrall said, ‘Haakon Redeye has already sailed,master Giant. You must needs mount a swan and fly afterhim if you would catch him. But let us go down, and savewhat we can of the village. I am but a simple man and nowarrior, but I counsel thus.’
Harald said, ‘I am forty years old and looked to sitback in peace in my age. I thought my voyaging wasover when I came from Miklagard, but now it seems Imust put an edge on my sword again, if I can still lift it.’
The thrall looked at Harald’s big muscles and his broadback, but did not speak, for he had learned not to interruptwarriors and shieldmen when they began their boasting.
Harald said, ‘By this cow and her calf, I swear that Iwill harry Haakon Redeye to the edge of the world andwill at last set his polished head on my shelf to smile atbefore this tale is over, for what he has done to me.’
Grummoch, who had picked up the manners of theNorthmen in his years beside the fjord, said, ‘When Ihave visited his berserks, they will ask each other whythe thunder was so loud, and why the lightning came sosuddenly. That is, if they still have heads to ask with.’
Jango No-breeches said, ‘Come, come, masters