In the autumn of 884 we returned to the borders of Mercia and Wessex, as several small groups of Vikings passed through the area trying not to get into too much trouble. Ingibjorg Ragnarsdottir, travelling with her cousin Finn Jonnsunr of the Holmbyggjar, gave this account of their journey. Note that these events take place before Ingibjorg and Finn settled with Ulrik.

I am Ingibjorg, daughter of Ragnar and widow of Halldor. We lost our farm near Fyrnat in Jutland when my father was killed in a feud over pasturelands. I took counsel with my cousin Finn Jonsunnr and he bethought me of our uncle Ulrik, who has been campaigning in the lands of the Angles since the time of the Great Army under Guthrum. Ulrik plans to take land there. So we took passage across the North Sea and set out to find Ulrik and ask to join him in his new settlement.

It will not surprise you that finding the correct army of Vikings has not been easy! However the journey is interesting, and while we have been greeted with hostility in many places, it is no worse than the endless conflict with our former neighbours. We have not yet found Ulrik, and another matter has been troubling me.

When I left Jutland, my aunt Ingibjorg, for whom I was named, and who took care of me after my mother’s death, asked me to aid her. Many years ago, my aunt was secretly courting a young man named Ketil. His father wished him to marry a wealthy but much older widow in a nearby settlement, and his plan was to go viking and win enough wealth that he could marry who he wished – but in the meantime, Ketil wanted to avoid falling out with his father. At least, that’s what he said…but one day, my aunt found that a fine pair of socks she had needle-bound was missing. These socks were new, and warm, and winter was coming on, and she was sure that she’d left them safe in the clothes-box. But they were gone…and a few days later, Ingibjorg found out where! Another young woman in the area, Inga, was wearing them!

Ingibjorg followed Inga discretely and saw her meet with Ketil, who told her exactly the same story about a secret betrothal. Inga had the nerve to thank Ketil for the socks and laugh at his claim that he had made them himself! Inga was a strong woman, a good hunter and could sing like a lark. But Ingibjorg was furious and went to the local seiðr-woman for vengeance. The seiðr-woman gave her a strong curse which struck Inga down with a fever.

For a while, Ingibjorg was very pleased with herself. But Inga grew sicker and Ketil lost interest in her, and did indeed go off viking. Inga lay ill and alone and my grandmother Gunni asked Ingibjorg to take her food and medicine. Ingibjorg didn’t want to go! But she wouldn’t disobey her mother, so she packed up herbs and food and tramped off to Inga’s little house on the edge of the woods. Seeing Inga so ill melted her heart, and she realised she didn’t want to cause Inga’s death, but the curse was too strong and the fever was tearing Inga apart. Ingibjorg asked the seiðr-woman for help, and was told that the curse could not be broken but it could be transferred to the socks. Ingibjorg bathed Inga’s forehead in spring water with one sock each evening, and with dew on other sock in the morning, for seven nights. The evil spirit departed from Inga, and she and Ingibjorg became very good friends and saw no need to trouble themselves with men like Ketil. Indeed after my marriage, Ingibjorg moved to the house by the woods and the two good friends live together still. Ketil returned from viking with a few silver coins and a scar on his leg, and married the widow.

But Ingibjorg could not forget the cursed socks. The seiðr-woman told her that anyone who wore them would be struck down, and if the socks were burned then the curse would return to Inga. So Ingibjorg asked me, her namesake, to take the socks and try to find someone who knew how the curse might be lifted and the evil banished.

Well, that’s how I came to be walking with cousin Finn through the woods on an autumn day somewhere in the kingdom called Mercia. We had passed by a village but I glimpsed a figure in a black robe and I have learned that these garments are worn by Christian monks who are always hostile to those of us who still respect the old ways. So we slipped past the village, only to encounter a couple of armed Danes on the track!

And I recognised one of them! It was Hjalmar, who I met at the wedding of my half brother Hauk some years ago. He’s a likeable fellow though like most of Hauk’s crew he’s not the sharpest arrow in the quiver. Still, it was pleasant to see a familiar face. His companion was Signy, and it was not clear why they were neither with Hauk nor on his ship? The last message I heard from Hauk was that he’d taken land up near Jorvik and was getting rather more settled, letting his second in command take the ship out raiding. Hjalmar said they were looking for Hauk and on hearing my tale said that they would accompany us as we travelled northwards looking for Ulrik and whichever remnant of the Great Army he’d settled with.

I mentioned my aunt’s request and Hjalmar said that various hermits lived in these woods, including the monk I’d seen earlier and a seiðr-woman (who Signy seemed to owe a lot of money).

Then we realised that two Saxon men were sneaking around and following us! They seemed to know Hjalmar and Signy and couldn’t be persuaded to leave us alone. It was all very odd. Eventually we managed to shake them off. Signy led us to the little hut where the wise woman lives, and she told me that yes, she could tell me how to break the curse but she wanted payment of three chickens. That was a fair price but I had not brought chickens with me from Jutland! However, perhaps I might be able to trade with the villagers? I still have a few small pieces of jewellery with me.

As we were walking away from the hut, Signy got tangled up in his shield-strap and fell over. Then those two Saxons ran up and one of them stabbed Signy! Signy managed to stab him back and they ran off. The wise woman, Ástriðr, offered to heal him in return for a silver coin and I began to see how the accident-prone Signy had run up such a debt. And to suspect that he and Hjalmar had been hanging around the village for quite a long time. But I had with me a healing charm that my aunt gave me and was able to cure his wound.

Once we approached the village, we stopped to discuss the best approach. While Signy tried to untangle his I-go-both-ways Thor’s hammer-cum-cross necklace from his helmet, I wondered which brooch to offer in trade. But I wasn’t very keen to give any nice things to the village after one of them stabbed Signy! Even if he is a bit annoying.

Then I had an idea…if I gave the socks to the Saxon, as a peace offering, then he’d get sick and he could pay Ástriðr directly for healing. It would be a fair punishment and he’d recover eventually, so I was sure my aunt would be happy with this.

On our way, Ástriðr picked up a limb of a tree and made cousin Finn carry it. Apparently it was very important though it just looked like an old stick to me and I didn’t know why she made a fuss just because a bit snapped off when he waved it as Signy.

So we approached the village, and they were of course extremely suspicious of us. The Saxon man, I learned his name was Oswyn, was moaning about having been stabbed even though it was entirely his own fault. I offered him the socks as an apology and we had a rather tense negotiation. I admit that I was grateful to Signy for assuring Oswyn that we intended no harm, thus saving me from telling a falsehood, and eventually Oswyn accepted the socks and we scurried away. I was happy enough not to have to give up my nice bar brooch.

Let me see, what else was going on. That monk guy was hanging around in the village, and he was complaning bitterly that Ástriðr had taken all the berries and mushrooms for miles around – and had summoned bears. This was daft as she’d made the exact same complaint about him! It was clear that they were blaming each other for everything that went wrong. There was also some talk of a dead religious leader but I forget who. Anyway, Ástriðr got really fed up and planted a curse pole – that’s what the stick was for – in the village. She told me afterwards that Oswyn went up to it and read the runes which cursed him that no man would believe him. Indeed it was a powerful curse, because although over the next day or two he did indeed fall into a fever, all his friends thought he was shamming and paid him no attention! (Or maybe they didn’t like him anyway)

Once he was really sick, I went to the village and explained that he could only be cured by paying Ástriðr four chickens (I like chicken soup). I think the monk had tried to lift the curse but of course he failed. No-one took me seriously and in the end we decided we’d have to go on our way.

We travelled north and shortly came to an old mound in the woods, it must have been a burial place and I felt a chill around me, but it was a good sheltered spot to rest. While we were sharing a meager lunch, Oswyn appeared! He was half dead and raving with fever, we fought him off but clearly he was a menace to everyone for as long as he lived and I didn’t like to think what would happen if he bit someone. We returned to that perishing village and warned the villagers that their friend was running around attacking people and they needed to catch him and get the wise woman to lift his curse. We chased Oswyn around the woods and he attacked several people before finally being cornered and brought down.

At last Ástriðr was offered her price and cured Oswyn of his fever, returning the socks to me. Unfortunately part of the cure is to bathe the socks in cow vomit which is very traditional but pretty icky, and it was very nice of one of the villagers to let me use her cow for the purpose.

Finally, Ástriðr told me how to break the curse which is that I must don the socks, inside out and unwashed ick ick ick, and walk three times backwards, widdershins, around a bog chanting a prayer to Odin and the other gods:

Forfeður líta á mig
Óðinn verndaðu mig
Freyja læknar mig

(Ancestors look upon me
Odin ward me
Freya heal me)

Then at last I can wash the dratted things and know that I have fulfilled my promise to my aunt and can focus on finding Ulrik.

Finn was very patient with all this running around!

The only remaining incident was at supper, when Signy ran in shouting that he’d seen the comet! But it was a cloud.

After a long hiatus due to plague and other events in the modern world, the DAS chronicle resumed in 883 CE (2023 in modern parlance). The events described below took place at Horley, near the border of Wessex and Mercia.
Early in 883, rumours reached the courts of Alfred and Ceolwulf that a band of unknown Danes had been seen in woods near Horley, close to the border between Wessex and Mercia.
Alfred knew that Ceolwulf was losing the support of his own people and was increasingly reliant on Viking mercenaries to maintain his power. Alfred was concerned that this incursion may be a sign that Ceolwulf was finally losing control and that the increasingly uneasy peace between the two kingdoms was about to end. Ceolwulf couldn’t afford to offend his more powerful neighbour and was desperate to prove that he was not to blame.
An exchange of messages resulted in the two kings agreeing to send armed men to investigate, remove any Danes from the woods and, if necessary, bring them back to face justice.
In May of 883, a party of Alfred’s Saxon warriors arrived at Horley to meet with a group of Ceolwulf’s Viking mercenaries.
They were met by a nun from a local monastery, who had a long and rambling tale to tell: the land is cursed, crops have failed, milk is sour, horrific things have been found in eggs, a shepherd, guarding his sheep overnight saw a mounted party of Danes travel down the lane to the wood and then return later. He thought they may have been carrying less than they had before, but it was dark and he wasn’t really certain.
She doesn’t know what the Danes were up to. People have speculated that they might have been visiting the irascible Hermit who lives there, but why would they do that? Some people even think that they were hiding treasure, but that’s clearly silly!
It’s all very worrying and now she thinks about it, the troubles all began shortly after the Danes were seen.
The nuns provide the hermit with the small amount of food that he needs to survive and they have seen him and know that he is alive and well and still as tetchy as ever.
The two warbands set off into the woods, hunting for Danes – or possibly for treasure? Matters were confused by the finding of golden and silver hares, perhaps representing the two kingdoms? But eventually three hoards of treasure were indeed found, buried under cairns topped by strange carved stones.

The hermit appeared as the treasures were being counted (he had been visiting the local priest to ask for a message to be sent to the bishop) and noticed the treasure and the “foul pagan stones”. He berated both sides asking them why they are there and what have they done. He was very unhappy when he realised that some of the party were Norse flotmen and deeply unimpressed when they said they represent Ceolwulf, or “Churl-wolf, that usurper”, as he refers to him.

While he was talking, a terrible curse awoke! One after the other, the finders of the hoards were possessed by the spirit of a Danish king and attacked their own comrades. This spirit had been bound by the buried treasures and marked stones but was now free. Eventually the possessed warriors were cured by means of surrounding them by the marked stones.

One of the Vikings, Leif, told this tale of their search:

“There was a little scuffle about who was in charge of the unit going into the woods to find reports of Treasure from a band of Danes and a Hermit, which ended in two different parties entering under tense terms.

As us brave Vikings were walking into the woods there was an argument between Ejolfr and Oswyn which ensued a small 1 on 1 combat leading to Oswyn getting slightly wounded in the leg.

Throughout the woods we found many cairns but a lot of them led to nothing. It was at this time the Saxon group caught up and some skirmishes were fought but us Vikings were usually out numbered.

In one of these skirmishes we managed to defeat the saxons and capture Oswyn but not before they managed to hand over the treasure to Edwin who made a run for it which ensued a chase.

Once captured we Traded our hostage for the treasure and I vaguely remember at some point finding a golden bunny.

We then made our way to a spiritual/ritual site and at some point found Brenda the silver bunny.

Once lunch was over we found the Hermit who told us there was a great darkness in those woods that we uncontained by taken some treasure. At this point someone wandered off into the woods.

Once found him he turned out to be possessed but we managed to unposses him with 3 rune stones but the darkness jumped to Eyjolfr who became a howling beast of some kind it seems.

Eyjolfr then fell flat on his ass and the possession transferred once again.”

In preparation for the evening’s banquet, a duel was held to determine who would be lord of the hall. Aethelwine the Saxon triumphed over Eyjolfr the Viking, but spared his life and the company sat down in temporary peace in the hall.

But the banquet was disturbed by further strange occurances; the finders of the treasures were filled with a strange urge to act in the manner of the animals carved on the stones they had disturbed. One meowed like a cat – another cawed as a raven – and a third howled like a wolf. Unknown to them, the stones had been dedicated to the old Norse gods Freyja, Odin and Tyr, and the gods were angry at their treasures being stolen. Only when Christian prayers were uttered and the blessing of St Rumwold sought, did the guests return to their rightful minds.

Peace spread across the Saxon lands in the year following the conversion of Athelstan. Saxons emboldened by good harvests met for a market and feast in the hills of Hampshire. Herewulf Thegn sent representatives of the Cilternsaete included a trusted young Saxon to whom he lent his fine helmet.

The market attracted many Viking traders for whom peace was also advantageous, but it also attracted the attentions of more nefarious folk. One of the Viking factions having returned from Denmark and setting themselves up near Fulham sought the rich pickings of the market. They arrived under the guise of merchants and traders, and on the first night drank well with their hosts.

The dawn’s light brought fair weather and enjoyment, but to Herewulf’s young representative it brought nothing but fear; for his lord’s helmet was found to be missing. Panic swept through the man and he ran hither-and-thither offering out breakfast as he went and always asking if anyone knew of the helmet’s location; but none did.

Despair took the man for he could never replace the helmet and could not pay the cost, his life would be forfeit. But with great happenstance there came to the market children of strange dress and speech; children who were excited and skilled enough to solve the message of the helmet. Each in turn they interrogated the attendees present, piecing together clues they identified the thief as none other than Hauk of Oestvikingae, the crafty and fleet of foot warrior. Despite his reputation Hauk could not outrun his fate, and through cunning distractions of their own the children did find within Hauk’s possessions the stolen helmet.

Hauk pleaded innocence, but being unknown to the locals he found no man or woman to support his character, his end seemed near, however knowing the law, and his rank Hauk resolved to pay his wergild with vast quantities of silver armbands. His life bought, and the helmet returned that evening Hauk and all of the Oestvikingae joined in a hearty feast, before the next morning departing early; and again, the helmet was found to be missing…

The young Saxon again sought help to identify the suspect, and again Hauk was implicated. Men were sent on swift horses returning again with the helmet, and silver to pay for Hauk’s life.

Herewulf Thegn was pleased for the market not only returned his favourite helmet but also substantial additional silver; and all who had been present and had seen these strange proceedings wondered “What scheme would Hauk come up with next?”

Stykar, wisest amongst the wise, brought to them on the first morning great revelations. Over a hearty breakfast much discussion was made. Those in the party, hearing his words and adding their own understanding, saw the majesty of the Duck God’s plan. All were amazed by the revelation that in each of their homes, near the shrine to Kermitos, already lay a shrine to the Duck God; unrealized but no less unvisited.

For you see, friends, the Duck God has created man not as his children; but as servants of his true children: those made in his image. We see the majesty of it, for each duck is, by will of the Duck God, sent into this world where they may have the opportunity to partake of the foods offered to them by mortal man. Those who are pure and honest servants of the Duck God seek out the grains that are so holy to him. But to others comes nothing but temptation in the form of rich sugary white bread: alluring, tasty but unholy in the eyes of the Duck God. Man, therefore is but an instrument in the lives of the true divine children.

Knowing this the company was renewed and each promised to return to their homes, sanctify the shrine to the Duck God and place therein a small effigy to the Duck God such that when they bathed in the cleansing waters the effigy would rise above them on the water as an eternal reminder of the ducks’ superiority.

Thereafter each went to their Kinsmen, for there was much trouble in the lands. Those of the Vikings who had settled and who had seen the conversion of Athelstan felt lost; their place was not as lapdogs of Wessex, yet the peace brought trade and there were no other clear leaders to follow. Dissatisfied, two groups of Vikings set out on separate quests to find sacred symbols that might lead them to a greater understanding of Odin’s plans for them, the two raven banners lost but possibly found in the last year. Meanwhile, those of the Oestvikingae, buoyed by an increase in manpower and in no way interested in the petty issues of Wessex and the Danegeld themselves began raids tackling Viking and Saxon alike looking for such valued treasure.

Alfred, hearing of the many Vikings abroad in the lands, and knowing of their missions sent his finest warriors after them. They savagely and relentlessly hounded the Viking groups as they sought their banners. Especially the Chilternsetae, before whom all fell in battle, with the exception of the Oestvikingae who ran away! Having obtained the white Raven banner, they became over confident, and carried it through the land, hung upside down, to represent the folly of the old ways. But their strength and prowess in battle ultimately was the undoing of Alfred’s plan; for the Vikings having just suffered an ambush by the Oestvikingae formed a single unit and marched against the Saxons, while the Oestvikingae disappeared in to the undergrowth.

There in a sandy grove of fallen trees, did the two sides engage. Line after line of warriors stepped forward to engage in bloody conflict and many fell. Survivors of a particular battle, though few they are, tell of a terrifying Hauk-howl that can forth from some impenetrable bracken before suddenly the wall was swamped by the army of the Oestvikingae who slaughtered indiscriminately. By day’s end the Saxon forced, still undeterred, had lost control of the Raven banner and the Vikings had rallied before it. The Saxon’s retreated to Wessex and the Vikings, seeing that Odin had watched upon them today, but knowing the price of folly in his eyes felt prudently that a retreat was also in order.

So, to the evening and to a great feast; all were welcomed to the hall of Holmbyggjar, an autonomous collective governing as a single unit in the absence of their Lord Bosi. In fact, much praise and respect was given to our absent friends; those who will always join our banquet in memory even when they cannot be with us in person. Wulf, particularly, was spoken of highly, Stykar telling of his may adventures with Thor on his journeys through Midgard.

We welcomed also, many new faces to the banquet. Skykar’s niece, was welcomed to Holmbyggjar following her marriage to Hrothgar over the winter months, an alliance that will hopefully represent the companionship between the Viking tribes following the retrieval of the raven banners. We also welcomed the return of Piri, to Holmbyggjar, and the Oestvikingae (favoured so much by the hosts that they receive the special ‘golden harvest mead’ upon their arrival at the hall) welcomed Madoc Arnson and Floki, and celebrated their new members and gifted them greatly for their valour on the fields of battle. So too was much praise given to those who through their efforts made such an event possible, and all were grateful for their works.

So, to the future do each group look. Stykar professed confidence in the Viking’s ability to re-form under the banners and the Saxons, citing their victories of the day, stated that no Saxon force would be overcome by such Viking forces. But, alas, without the wisdom of the Norns, no mortal man can tell what the future is to bring, so in these times we wait, peace or war, honour and glory all these things may come but for now we each, in quiet reflection, return to the shrines of the Duck God.