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into the sea!”
    The warriors behind us pushed against our backs with their shields.  We, in the front rank, struck with our swords and then punched with the bosses of our shields. The line fell back and, as their feet struggled for purchase, many of them fell into the surf.  They died like stranded fish.  We moved forward. I now understood their difficulty for my legs sank almost to my knees in the soft stony sand. The ebbing sea sucked the dead bodies away from us. I felt my arm and legs ache from the effort.
    “Switch!”
    This would be a test of my new men.  As my Ulfheonar turned and stepped back, most of my newer warriors took our places at the fore. It was a move we had used before.  It gave fresh arms, legs and eyes to the fight.  I watched with pride as my warriors who wore no mail yet but aspired to be  warriors like us finished off the crew of the Scottish boat which had been closest to us. I was proud for none of the enemy returned to the boat.  Three other Scottish raiders were slipping away west for the fight was over. There were so many bodies in the sea that I felt as though I could have walked across them. It had been a great slaughter.
    As my new warriors began to strip the arms and valuables from the dead closest to them I looked to see if any had fallen. Audun Arneson lay dead.  He was a new Ulfheonar but he had died with a sword in his hand. He was so new that he had not yet been given a golden wolf as the rest had.  I would have to make restitution to his family.  When a man fought in my Ulfheonar then I cared for his family too. It was part of the bond. The rest of my men looked to have survived intact.  Two of my newer warriors lay face down in the surf.  This had been their first and their last raid.  It was a chance all men took.
    I saw warriors all along the beach finishing off the wounded who lay in the sea.  Dawn’s early light shone off the bloody water and metal helmets.  It was a grim sight. Thorfinn Blue Scar strode down the beach towards me.  I took off my helmet to greet him. The cool morning air felt good.  He held his arm out for me to clasp it. “Thank you, Jarl Dragonheart.  I see that the stories of your sword and your men are not exaggerated. Although few in number they truly have the courage of the wolf.” I nodded. He pointed to my face, “Ah, you now have a scar upon your face.  I have some blue ink if you wish it to look like mine.”
    I remembered the spear thrust I had suffered.  I held my hand to my face and it came away bloody. “Thank you but no, I think one Jarl called Blue Scar is enough.  I am happy to be the Dragonheart.”
    “And the name is truly earned.  Come, we will eat while my men clear the beach. I am glad that you stayed the night.”
    “As am I.” I turned to the Ulfheonar closest to me,  “Snorri, have some men go to Erik and fetch over my drekar.”
    His thralls had prepared food and we ate in the hall while we awaited my drekar. Thorfinn Blue Scar insisted upon rewarding us. He brought out a golden torc from a chest he kept in his hall.  It was an ancient piece of gold. I had seen others just like it. They came from the tribes who lived in the north of the land before the Romans had come.
    “It is said that this torc was worn by a warrior queen of a tribe called the Brigante.  My men found it in the cave of a witch on the island of Grimsay.  She began to curse them and they killed her. I would not give such a gift away for it was cursed.  But you have a galdramenn.   Perhaps he can divine if it is still cursed.”
    I handed it to Aiden.  For my own part I was not afraid for it was not the torc which had been cursed but the warriors who had killed her. Aiden examined it and closed his eyes as he did so. He held it tightly to his chest.  A slight frown crossed his face. “There is no curse in the torc, Jarl.  But the torc has many tales to tell.”
    Thorfinn Blue Scar nodded, “That is the advantage of having a