Chapter 4: The seer, the warrior and the builder
13 November 888, Jorvik
We held a new blot today. It has been too long since we sacrificed to the gods, and who can expect riches and glory without the support of the gods? Two Irish Christians were sacrificed, but a man named Toke, a true Norse, was also executed. Where did he come from? Was a Norse serving as a mercenary with the Christians? Truly, the influence of the White Christ is all corrupting, if even a devout Norse would take service with them.
21 January 889, Jorvik
Today is the saddest day of my life. Perhaps I was wrong to sacrifice Toke, but the All-Father has shown his displeasure. My son Halfdan, who was to be Halfdan II, has died of a fever. Nineteenth summers is too few to be traveling to Valhalla, but when Odin calls, we must answer. Guthrothr is my heir now, and may Thor protect him.
24 August 889, Jorvik
As King of Irland, it is my responsibility to make sure that my rule is unquestioned, so that my sons may enjoy security in their own endeavors. I held a moot this afternoon, and although they seemed uncomfortable, each of my vassals gave their assent. [1]
Let no man risk my wrath or he shall lose his lands, if not his head!
4 December 889, Ossory
I ventured out of my nice, safe, castle (on which I have been spending much gold, in order to build the walls still higher and thicker) to my titular lands in Irland to survey the damage from a recent raid.
The commander of the raid, the former Marshal Sune, was overzealous in his destruction of the monuments to the White Christ. I reprimanded him, as it is better to loot first and then destroy, but only lightly. If I am to trust in my raiders, they must be capable of making quick decisions without my interference.
Perhaps, if enough treasure be found, we shall raise a new, properly Norse temple on this very spot, once we have more forcefully brought it into our fold.
9 March 890, Jorvik
It is complete; a testimony to the mightiest warrior we have ever known, may he eternally feast in Valhalla.
I know that, when they think I cannot hear, my courtiers and friends mutter about my unwillingness to take up blade and slay our enemies. A King cannot risk everything for personal glory or for vanity. However, that does not mean that I am soft, or that my sons should be soft. Let this stone be an inspiration to all who come after, that the story of Halfdan I never be forgotten!
10 June 890, Lancaster
I have traveled with our army, recently returned from Irland, to see them off to the future Thanedom of Chester.
A good King must be an opportunist; no chance to add lands should be passed up, unless he has insufficient warriors or gold to pay them. Raiding fills coffers for a day of feasting, but conquest may grant dozens of feasts. Marshal Ale shall slay all those before him, of this I am certain.
8 June 891, the court of King Sigtrygg the Wise of Skotland
My daughter, Holmfrid, has been 16 for just a few days, but an unmarried daughter is a useless daughter, as she cannot produce children and she cannot command alliances. As I seek ever closer ties to the realm of Skotland, perhaps to gain through marriage what I am loath to gain through bloodshed, a betrothal to Prince Grupa, who is a mere lad, should prove very advantageous.
In the meantime, as the lad grows older, she could be very useful with her knowledge of intrigue.
19 June 891, Macclesfield
My son Guthrothr will soon turn 16; it is time he was landed. I have granted him this newly conquered city as an early birthday gift.
28 January 892, Jorvik
As I seek to bring the island of Irland under my dominion, I have declared war on Ossory. It should have recovered from our raids earlier, and deliver many riches during the course of her conquest.
5 September 892, Jorvik
With the death of my loyal Spymaster Thorbrandr, I need a new one, and I look no farther than my own daughter.
My Chancellor may be a bit dim, but my advisors are capable and wise, and they bring good counsel. I will not have Holmfrid forever, as she will go to her husband’s court as soon as the opportunity arises, but she will be most capable as Spymaster until that day.
15 January 893, Ossory
I have named Uncle Ragnarr Thane of Ossory. Should I die before my sons come of age, it is possible he may be regent. Furthermore, he is my kin, and he deserves to be exalted and respected. We move on Leinster on the morrow.
19 January 893, Macclesfield
My son and heir, Guthrothr, has attained sixteen summers and a wife.
He reminds me of Father, with the same strong sword arm and distaste for the runes. Yet he is uncommonly bright, and I know he will lead our people to even greater heights than I ever could, if he can control his hatred of all those stronger or richer than he.
16 May 894, Jorvik
My younger son, Frodi, has now attained his sixteenth summer.
I am truly honored by the gods to have such bright sons. Frodi, perhaps, has more to overcome, as his lust for the pleasures of the flesh and treasure have made him arrogant and threaten to make him unfit for battle. Yet he is patient and hardworking, and his craving for riches will make him a very capable administrator.
His wife, another Princess of Skotland, may help him moderate his worse impulses.
She, too, is not without flaws, but if she is as capable as my Grima, she will birth many a Hvitserk.
4 July 894, Veisafjorthr
I have named Frodi the Thane of what was formerly called Leinster. We shall test his abilities to administer with a devastated land.
26 August 894, Jorvik
My concubine has given me a son, who we have named Oddr. It is highly unlikely he would ever inherit, but what Viking complains of many sons? He will be an asset to his brothers, of that I am sure. His birth is surely an omen of glory, and we move in a few days on Desmond, the last remaining region of Irland not in Norse hands.
17 September 894, Jorvik
The King of Skotland has called us to arms, to help us put down some claimants for his title. I could refuse, but my hope is to rise in his graces, that we might grow ever closer to his family.
2 December 894, Cumberland
I have moved closer to the fighting, that I might monitor what is going on. We continue to press on Desmond, but I am considering raising armies to fight in Skotland.
I am going to consider things for a couple of days, but I have already promised Guthrothr that he will lead our armies in Skotland, if it comes to that. His younger brother is a Thane, but Guthrothr cares little for titles; only to spill the blood of foes. When I consulted our Seer about my decision, she seemed to hesitate. She has been at the runes for several days; when will she know the will of the gods?
1 February 896, Jorvik
War rages on in Skotland. We have conquered Desmond, meaning all of Irland is Norse, and my son Frodi has received his second Thanedom. I know it is risky to trust too heavily in such a greedy ruler, but he has already made significant improvements in Veisafjorthr, and I have no reason to think he will not do the same in Desmond. I had ordered our armies to cross the Sea of Irland in order to attack the pretenders in Skotland, but a fool named Selbach has decided that the lot of the peasants in Connacht is “unfair.” Guthrothr and Marshal Ale have been tasked with destroying the rebels first, then crossing the Sea of Irland.
23 February 896, Cumberland
Guthrothr has… disobeyed me, after a fashion. He is eager to test his mettle in a true battle, he told me, and he will leave the crushing of a peasant rebellion to local vassals in Irland. I have sent a messenger to Frodi, authorizing him to raise as many troops as he needs, but I am not pleased with Guthrothr. I have heard that he is engaging the pretenders at a place called St. Kentigern.
18 March 896, Cumberland
Whether I have angered Thor or attracted the attention of the Trickster, I cannot say. But I surely have incurred some sort of wrath, for why else would I outlive two sons?
Young Oddr approached me the other day, asking when his brother would come home, to teach him to hold a sword. I fear I was unkind, but does a grieving father not have a right to be unkind? I told the whelp that “The sword brings only tragedy, doom, and the wrath of the gods. How can a weakling such as you hope to command one, when it brought low Guthrothr, twice the man you shall ever be?”
I saw Oddr tremble at my words and return to his play fort. Perhaps that is the best place for him; would that Guthrothr had done the same. [2]
29 July 897, Jorvik
Two of my sons dead, I find I care less and less about the world. It is often a struggle to get out of bed in the morning. Even when we win wars – and the rightful King of Skotland has retained his throne – we lose. The traitor Selbach was executed on the spot, his corpse put on a spike.
The only thing which has stimulated anything out of me is the reports of my daughter being taken as the concubine of some fool in the Germanic lands.
I have already sent her sister to Laczyn (and what sort of barbarous name is that?) to infiltrate the bastard’s castle and bring him to swift justice.
11 August 897, Jorvik
Justice is served.
25 June 899, Jorvik
I have not written in my journal for almost two years. I have slowly grown to accept my fate. The gods will do what they will and we can only accept their decisions.
I have a new son, Dag, and my daughter Yrsa is my new Spymaster.
Holmfrid has gone off to court with her husband, but I have ensured that Yrsa remains here with me by having her marry some oaf matrilineally. I do not know or care who he is; all that matters is that the gods reap no more of my children. It is perhaps a kindness that womenfolk do not often take up the sword; it prevents their fathers from weeping over them.
We have fought in wars to the west and north, and been victorious. Another pretender to the King of Skotland has been toppled, and a blot celebrated our fortunes in war. Even if the price of victory is excessive, we must pay it, for the price of defeat is still higher.
There is one place we have not warred in some place: England. The Count (I think that is the correct term) of Warwick has broken free from our brothers to the south. They will regret it.
I beg Odin, Thor, and all of the Aesir that I will not.
[1] I know “moot” is pure Anglo-Saxon, not Norse, but I don’t know of a better term to use.
[2] Oddr gained the Craven trait as a result.
Next update is probably coming next week, so I’ll see you all then!
