Page 81 of Summer Warrior

CHAPTER 19

The south coast of Skye, October 1138

SOMERLED AND OLAF agreed to sail along the southwest coast of Skye where pirates seeking to hide their shipbuilding would find safe harbors in the many coves cut into the jagged coast. The Norse called Skye the misty isle, which was true enough from Somerled’s trips to that part of the Hebrides. Though, today, the isle was favored with full sun, he had most often viewed its Black Cuillin Hills shrouded in a cloud-like mist.

Reports had reached Somerled some time ago that suggested Norse pirates were using the isle as a base to build dragonships. Though Skye was one of the isles in Olaf’s Kingdom of Man, Somerled doubted the king visited often. And while Olaf thought to issue any pirates on Skye a command to leave, Somerled was convinced they would not go easily.

Somerled was pleased Ragnhild had decided to remain on his galley where he could protect her. She had retrieved her bow and quiver of arrows and stood next to Liadan in the bow. He had already spoken to the two women to make sure they stayed out of any battle that might ensue. “If we meet trouble on Skye,” Somerled told Liadan, “you and Ragnhild stay in the bow.” The bow was the least vulnerable part of a ship, the stem higher and more difficult to break through. “You will be safer there and I will leave Maurice to stand guard but, if he falls or needs help, unless I can break free, Ragnhild’s safety is yours to guard.”

As he knew she would, Liadan had taken her responsibility seriously. “Aye, lord, I will guard her with my life.”

Olaf sailed on his own longship, now bailed out and made seaworthy under the careful direction of Maurice MacNeill.

Angus and Maurice sailed with Somerled but Diarmad commanded his own galley and Domnall acted as captain of one of Somerled’s longships. Between Somerled and his companions, they had nearly one hundred men to add to Olaf’s forty.

It was as Somerled passed the Sleat peninsula and entered the sea loch called Slapin that he caught sight of two dragonships on the loch’s western shore. He gave the order to douse sail and his men took to the oars, rowing closer. A few warriors in chainmail and conical helms could be seen guarding the dragonships riding at anchor near shore. On the beach, Norsemen engaged in building longships swarmed like bees around three half-built hulls.

Somerled’s ships drew nearer and were spotted by the Norsemen standing guard, who shouted to the men onshore. The pirates dropped what they were doing, grabbed their weapons and, splashing through the shallows, rushed to the dragonships.

By this time, the four ships with Somerled and Olaf were coming alongside the pirates’ ships.

“Ready your bows!” shouted Somerled, as he raised his own. Olaf’s warriors, a few of them in mail like Olaf, joined Somerled’s men, obeying the order as one. “Draw!” His men drew back the strings. When the Norsemen running from shore were within range, he cried, “Loose!”

Arrows hissed through the air and found targets in the Norsemen attempting to climb onto their ships. Many fell into the water but those following them took refuge behind their shields and ran on.

“Prepare the grappling hooks!” Somerled called out to his ship captains.

Grapnels flew through the air, snagging the gunwales of the Norse ships. The men pulled the ropes tight, lashing the ships together, forming a more stable footing from which to fight. The four ships commanded by Somerled and Olaf had the dragonships surrounded.

Shouting his war cry, Somerled slid his sword from its scabbard and leaped onto the closest Norse ship with his shield in one hand and his sword in the other. His brother and his men followed on his heels, all except Maurice, who stayed behind to guard the women.

Somerled slammed his shield into a pirate’s head, dazing him. With the moment given him, Somerled slashed upward, across his opponent’s body and then downward. The pirate gripped his bleeding belly and fell to the deck.

More pirates, wielding axes and blades, scrambled onto the dragonships, taking the place of their fallen comrades.

Somerled confronted them with gleaming sword, delivering death. Blood splashed onto his tunic and face as he cut them down. At one point, he had to sweep his sleeve over his eyes to better see.

All around him, men clashed with their swords, axes and spears as the battle raged across the decks of the dragonships. Shouts in Norse and moans of the wounded surrounded them. The dead or wounded pirates were forced over the side into the water.

Olaf’s mail-clad warriors cut down many Norse who, except for those who had been standing guard, wore no mail.

Somerled scanned the waning battle, pleased to see they were prevailing. Angus was holding his own and Domnall on his other ship stood tall. Diarmad, a fierce fighter, was covered in the blood of his victims.

Bodies soon littered the decks of the dragonships, which became slippery with blood.

For the moment, the fighting was confined to the decks of the enemy ships but Somerled worried it might spill over onto his galley where the women stood in the bow. His fear was realized when, looking back over his shoulder, he glimpsed two pirates charging toward Maurice.

Maurice, an experienced swordsman, could handle one, but Somerled worried about the other, a hulking brute of a man who attacked Liadan with a vengeance.

Somerled crossed back to his galley and confronted the pirate fighting the gallant lass from Islay. “’Tis me you will fight, Pirate!”

The Norseman turned and tried to buffet Somerled with his shield. Somerled kicked out at the pirate’s groin with his boot and the pirate bent over, groaning, but did not fall. Knocking the pirate’s shield to the deck, Somerled moved in with his sword, blocking the sword of the Norseman until he saw an opening and thrust his sword deep into the pirate’s belly. He crumpled to the deck.

From the shore, Somerled heard his name shouted and turned.

Sweyn Asleifsson.

A faint smile formed on Somerled’s face. At last.