From the Scots Skald: Waile Dugs Frae th' Braine

Tavish McTavish th' Laird ay th' Nairth
Stuid at th' praw ay hi' shep
An look'd towa' th' aicelandec coest.

“I’s as Ah min' it Euan,
Thes coods be guid lain fur th' wee Jimmies.”

Euan luked athwart at th' backs ay th' Scots
A-rowin' th' lest hunder yars tae th' shair,
“Ef wiccan winet an' Murdoch can hauld et”.
Sed Tavish: “Aye hawayal”.

Es th' tois boats groonded oan th' shair,
Tavish an' hes Thanes jump'd tae th' groon.
Hes Soer-chelle laift tae dafend hes boots.

Inlain th' Vikin's hud lained ap oan th' laift
Afront ay th' tois men beldens.
Baserkeys tae th' laift,
Erchas en th' meddle.
Harthged tae th' reit.
An' th' Warlaird Bjairn Arnsaides stuid an th' reer.
Shooted Tavish: “A-cowrin' bahin' hais main!”

The Thanes march'd aup th' bech.
Tha Baserkeys avanc'd ower th' brae
Towa' th' left hain shep.
An' Tavish an' hes main eproach'd th' Vikens
Tae fayet,

Erchas tairn'd an' vollys wa' lus'd
Messen th' target, tha Thanes.
Bet a secand wae ay arrows feel frae th' lift
An' fife ay th' seven Thanes fayell.

Fower Viken Harthged charg'd.
Th' Thanes foot valyently,
Killen tois Vikens fur th' loass ay a body Scot.
An' th' Vikens fail beck, blooded an' cafus'd.

Tavish thayen charg's intae th' frey,
Waipen' oot th' Harthged
En fraitnen' th' Vikens nayerby.

Thayen, es Tavish gat hes braith
Hisaw Bjairn, oathswairn tae hes raivel
Volla th' Friggin' Maid'n.
Tavish charged again, wi' gods oan hes saide,
Th'Scot wa' victorioos
An' Bjairn ran awee wi' a serioos woond.
Laugh'd Tavish: “Tha' el slaw th' dobber doon!"

Seen' Tavish aloyn aset fur Euan,
Th' Viken Waryers chairg'd it ay th' buildin'.
Drenalen oan overlood
Tavish fooght thaim oof, kellen' tois
Senden' thay raist scarrayen beck tae th' belden'.

Grabbin' a flamin' brain,
Tavish ran in an beldens wa' sit oan faiyer.
Th' erchas hud thayer becks tae heem.
Sed Tavish: “Cam oan, les gang an' scaur sem Laivy!”

Tavish raic'd en, killin' thee.
Th' erchas gaither'd themsaylves tagethar
En' th' lest Scots Thane fayell.
Sed Tavish: “Ya shooldn’y ha dain 'at!"
Tavish charged an waip'd ott tha mail.

Speart Euan: “Wha’s laift?”
An hae turn'd towa' tha boots.
Tavish sa' th' Baserkeys a-comin'.
Sayed Tavish: “Thaim"
An' th' Baserkeys chairg'd.

Bludy wes th' combet
Tavish stud, weth th'woons af a hayero
An al th' Baserkeys wa' dayed.

Sed Euan: “Lo-ook! Tha Vikens hae goon”.
Fa seen th' battel wa' tint, th'rayest hud ran awee

Tavish McTavish th' Laird ay th' Nairth
Savayed hes new tarretree.
Sed Tavish: "Thes lain is oors noo.
Gie th' gear aff th' boots, wee Jimmies,
An' lets hae a swatch at whit wai’ve gaut!"

From the Frankish Skald: The Song of Charlemal

II - The Fall of Gunnblasdt

Searching for more Viking gold

The Franks sailed north o'er oceans cold.

To the furthest corner of the map.

Into the land Gunnblasdt controlled,

Slaves there to kidnap.

At Svinafell their ships made land

From whence they marched to take a stand

Before a lonely tower.

Where sanctuary might be safely found

By peasants in their desperate hour.

Charlemal, King of the Franks, shivered again. It had been an immense journey, from one corner of the civilized world to the other, it seemed. Here, standing on the desolate shore of this frozen land, it was as if they had travelled to another world. Then again, he could see the positive side. Anyone who lived here would have to be strong and resilient, and would therefore be perfect slave material. Just what he needed to bring in the grape harvest, amongst other things. And that tower was certain to be filled with gold as well, and Charlemal liked gold a lot.

Once the ships had  safely beached in a secluded bay, and the Franks had organised themselves, they moved inland. This tower was apparently some sort of sacred site, and it was likely that the peasants would head there in search of sanctuary now that the word was out that a hostile warband had landed nearby and was searching for slaves to take home with them. Charlemal hoped that was the case - it would be a lot easier to capture slaves if you knew where they would be. And so, his warband advanced, their intent to  intercept and capture peasants finding their way toward the sanctuary of the tower.

But before the Franks had reached the tower they saw Gunnblasdt's warband taking defensive positions on the plain ahead, ready to meet them. The Icelandic Jarl stood in the centre, his huscarls and berserkers beside him, a screen of archers in front. Behind them, peasants were already making their way towards the tower, passing close by the Vikings in the hope that they might protect them.

Gunnblasdt, beleaguered Icelandic Jarl

Having seen many brave Vikings fall

Declared that every Frank should die.

His archers standing like a wall

Poised to let their arrows fly.

But Charlemal, cunning Frankish Lord

Seeing Vikings readying swords

Carefully deployed his Franks

Foot warriors faced off Gunnblasdt's horde

While horses took the flanks.

Before the Franks could act, the enemy began to shoot, concentrating their fire on the Frankish warriors bearing Charlemal's banner. Many arrows fell on this unit, and many men fell, until only a handful of archers remained clustered around the banner. Only then did they realise that this was not the correct flag - someone had left the proper one at home, and heads would roll about that for sure when their Lord found out. But it was too late to do anything about that now. These Frankish archers wisely drew back, out of range of the exhausted enemy, while the second unit of archers, under Charlemal's personal command, advanced into the comparative safety of a small building, while Charlemal, mounted on his horse, stood alone on the right flank. Following up on this success, Gunnblasdt was keen to finish the job, and charged his berserkers into the building to destroy the second unit of Frankish archers.

Bu meanwhile, out of sight of the enemy, on the left flank the Frankish knights circled around behind Gunnblasdt's men, hunting down civilians, while on the right flank Charlemal was moving gradually closer to the peasants in that part of the battlefield.

Arrows launched from Viking bows

Felled many Franks with many blows

Forcing them to withdraw

Though the centre was a feast for crows

Twas just as Charlemal foresaw

They followed up on this onslaught

Berserkers into the building fought

Focused on killing Franks

They did not spare a lot of thought

For the horsemen behind their flanks

But the berserkers failed to take the building, as the defenders held sway. The berserkers were all slain, though leaving only a handful of Frankish archers behind. Only then did Gunnblasdt realise the true danger - while his men had been winning the fight in the centre, the Franks had slipped around their flanks, and were already rapidly gathering peasants for slaves. The Jarl ordered his hearthguard to chase after the enemy horsemen, but it was too late and they were too slow to be able to catch the mounted knights, who escaped into the distance with their prize.

Gunnblasdt was late to realise

The threat of Franks around both sides

Peasants just too far to save;

And Franks now quickly grabbed their prize

Of villagers as slaves.

Running out of options, Gunnbasdt decided to take matters into his own hands. Seeing Charlemal isolated, on the far right flank, chasing down peasants on his own, he charged. But in his desperation the Jarl had underestimated the challenge. By the time he reached Charlemal, he was already heavily fatigued, and thus left vulnerable to the Frankish Lord. What is more, Charlemal was prepared for this attack. With faith in his armour and in the surety that God was on his side fighting these northern pagans, he met Gunnbasdt's charge with vigour.

With Charlemal isolated on his right

Gunnblasdt chose this time to fight

One last chance to win the day

But 'gainst the man Steel Cannot Bite

He'd need good dice in this melee

But, unfortunately for the Viking Lord, the duel was short, and Gunnblasdt fell, severely wounded, to the ground. And so Charlemal hopped down from his horse and duly trussed up the wounded Gunnblasdt and slung him across the back of his horse to be taken for a slave himself, along with a selection of assorted peasants.

But alas Odin was not on his side

Gunnblasdt fell and Charlemal survived

The fate of Iceland now looks grave

For wounded Gunnblasdt was hogtied

To find himself enslaved.

So home to France Franks sail at last

With gold and slaves that they amassed

Coffers fully stocked.

As for the fate of poor Gunnblasdt?

He serves as Charlemal's mounting block.

"I could do with a footstool to get on and off my horse," Charlemal declared. "The King of Iceland will serve very nicely in that role." And so, it is told, the fate of the former Jarl of Iceland was sealed.

From the Scots Skald: Th' Raid Oan Iceland

T'was noo th' time
Fur th' Scots tae raid
A fair way oaf tae th' land o' ice.

Tavish McTavish th' Laird o' th' North
Hid awa' his dosh 'n' set aff
Awae wi' his warband tae gang revenge
Oan Leif th' Jammy Bastard
By attacking his oathsworn Gunnblasdt th' Savage.

This wid be a warnin' - neist time
Tavish wid stickone oan heim insteed.
Thay crossed th' wild sea tae th'
Frozen shores o' that bleak land.
Keepin' edgy, in na time,
Tavish’s scoot hud fun a herd
O' prime hielan beef a-grazin' nearby.

But th' cattle wur protected
By some Viking warriors anaw berserkers.
Tavish hud come prepar'd,
His brave Scots warriors
Armed wi' pointy blades
Sportin' thair finest tartan kilts.
Th' gods wur wi' him tae,
Fur at his side wis his shaman Ewan Mea.

Th' Vikings tho' didnae fair rammy.
Th' wee feartie-cat Gunnblast hud tried instead
Tae pay aff some ae Tavish's men.
Bit a few pointy wurds
'N' th' threat o' a curse
Set th' Scots in order again.

"Whit dae ye think ye'r daein' ye jupin' skivers?
Ah ken ye'r a' stingy gits
Bit dae ye nae hae some loilty?"
Ewan Mea cried oot.
"Awa' ye go ya wee bastirts
Or ah'll gie ye a skelp!"

Sae thay wid hauld fur Tavish’s signal
'N' then tak' th' naurby kine
Bringin' thaim back tae th' ships.

Tavish, wi' Ewan Mea 'n' his picked men
Win' toward th' furthest herd
Behind some rocky ground.
As th' Scots approach'd
Th' Vikings wur in disarray,
Fur thair Laird hud yit tae turn up!
Thay didnae ken whither tae staun thair ground or bolt.

Slowly, thay retreated
Sae Tavish signalled his warband,
An' th' rammy stairted.

At lest, Gunnblast 'n' his men arrived,
Bae which time th' berserkers wur
Filled wi' rage an' in a richt pelter.
Th' Viking warriors a'vanc'd,
Attackin' Tavish’s kilted guard.
T'was a bloody stramash,
Bit th' Scots fought lik' wild beasties.
Wi' th' gods oan thair side murdurred a' th' enemy
At th' cost o' bit yin o' thair ain.

T'was nae time tae depairt,
'N' th' Scots headed fur thair boats.
Gunnblast wis fair rummled win he saw
Howfur mony o' his kine hud bin nicked.
His berserkers charged,
Yhey hairy naked fanatics
Foamin' at th' geggy as thay bolted.
Brave Tavish turned
Tae coupon thaim alone,
'N' at th' lest moment as th' berserkers charged,
In true Scots defiance,
Tavish took a maddy
An' pure wide he hurled his kilt aside
'N' exposed a' he hud tae th' wurld.

Sic bravery is mair than even berserkers kin tak'!

Thair attack stall'd, stutter'd, falter'd, 'n' fail'd,
Th' berserkers retreated in horror 'n' confusion
'N' hoofed it a' the wey hame.

Th' battle wis won, th' cattle nicked,
Revenge oan Leif th' Jammy wis taken.

'N' in Iceland to this dae tales ur tellt
Aroond campfires at nicht
Tae beware th' weap'n a Scotsman wields beneath his kilt.