Wayland Early Years

THE STONE CIRCLE OF LIFE

Wayland welcomed the stone he found to rest against for the night, far better than the damp ground he had suffered with many days and nights afoot.

As the dark dark night gave way to the first twinkling of day break, he gave a gruntled morn to the rising sun as he could see that he was indeed sat right where he was meant to be, The Great Stone Circle of Life.

Wayland had no idea what he was doing here, it was an inner calling that he had felt for some time. He slowly drew his huge knife from his waist belt and rummaged through his satchel for his fire lighting flint, After a couple of strikes he sparked up, as a fat spark dropped into the kindling he had gathered along his pilgrimage. As he waited for his two partridges to cook, he pondered on why he was here …alone. But he felt it was right to be there.

Over the next few days more and more pilgrims arrived at the Great Stone Circle of Life, at first it was ones and two’s, each setting up camp fires and making temporary skin shelters. Then small groups appeared from over the distant horizon, all herding groups of animals, mainly hogs and geese. As each new pilgrim arrived, Wayland became more and more unsettled. Wayland didn’t like crowds, in fact Wayland didn’t like people full stop. Over the days spent here, Wayland discovered they all had one thing in common with each other, abhorrence for the king, the kings men and anybody who had anything to do with the king. They all had been wronged in one form or another and it didn’t sit lightly with any of them.  It transpired in the days to come that this gathering of such a motley crew was their affirmation to stand against the king, and his henchmen.

There was a great hub hub arising from the throng of folk gathered around Wayland, all with different accents and dialects , but the topic was always the same, “WHY”, Why were they all here at this bleak location, and yet the merrymaking still continued. One small tribe had just butchered a wild auroch well away from the campsite as the smell of the butchered animal was dire. The carcass was roasting on a spit over an open fire. The aroma of the beef slowly roasting, was by far, more delightful than the butchering of the animal. There was enough meat on this beast to feed the whole assembly and all was so grateful for the feed. What would have topped this off would have been a mug of mead to wash it all down.

Wayland, still leant against the stone he had slept against for two nights observing quietly all the comings of the folk surrounding him, but the question still remained in Wayland;s head was, WHY? . Why are all these folk gathering at THIS location, WHY?  Everyone was dressed more or less the same with either a bear skin robe over the shoulders or a more striking, a wolf pelt. There were men, women and older children, girls and boys. The ornaments that dressed their appearance were so diverse, some gold, some silver, some glass beads and some even pottery.  There was no obvious reason for this gathering or even a non obvious reason, It was a free for all where all shared something, Everyone was sharing together, a festival, carnival atmosphere. Almost all, were trading something through a system of bartering, not a coin was exchanged. It was a most unusual system of events that had happened day or night in Wayland’s lifetime. Something he had never experienced before or could even dream of, it was so far outside ot Wayland’s understandable lifestyle. There was a major reason as to why no coin was exchanged during these proceedings and that was each and every coin had the kings head stamped on it…no one wanted anything to do with the king or his money.

Wayland had barely closed his eyes after a night of revelry, when the sun’s early morn glow crept over the distant hedgerow. He hoisted himself up on his elbows to adjust his huge bear skin shawl around his shoulders, twas then he saw the enormity of the crowd that had descended overnight, the west countries, Irish had arrived even the welsh druids, Every English king from every tribe were here, struth, even the Scots were here with their blue painted faces, even the northern Scots from the Isles. Everyone was in a carnival mood.  Eventually a tall skinny fella in a long heavy black robe carrying a walking cane as tall as himself wandered into the arena and lifted his arms high into the morning sky. As he started to utter words of whatever they were, the ensemble grew unnervingly quiet as this tall fella again lifted his voice to the sky. Wayland hadn’t a clue what this tall fella was saying, he liked plain speech, a lot of the other massed crowds were staring at each other in wonderment as to what was happening. Everyone just let this tall fella get on with what he was doing. What no one could have foreseen, was that eventually everyone heard the message in their own tongue and dialect. A whisper went all around the gathering that the tall fella was in fact Merlin, but it was all heresay, no one knew for sure.

As the morn glow of the sun changed to sun rays, the first rays struck the stone that Wayland was leaning against, this gave Wayland a shudder, like somebody had just walked over his grave. It was unnerving to say the least. The tall fella with the stick raised his arms again to the morning sky making loud utterances to the universe. At that point the whole of the morning sun rose to touch Wayland’s stone and filled him with a bolt like lightening, Merlin glanced down to see the power surge through him, no one else could see what had just happened, only Merlin. Merlin knew at that point that here was an extraordinary being that he could be friends with for many centuries.

The seven kings of the land had their affirmations confirmed as they took their place in front of the prominent stones of the stone circle of life.

WAYLAND THE WANDERER

Geoffrey of Monmouth who was known to Merlin, introduced himself to Wayland, who was quite taken aback. Wayland, even at his tender age was not one for socialising, he just didn’t like folk. Geoffrey invited Wayland to follow him to Monmouth, as there were things that Geoffrey needed to share with Wayland. To be fair Wayland wasn’t listening as he didn’t like folk. As they got closer to the river, Geoffrey sent Wayland on a southerly journey to a village that was very well known for its exquisite metal working. Wayland spent the rest of the summer here polishing up on his trade as a blacksmith and learning new trades like forging coins of the realm in copper. Although Wayland wasn’t a coin forger persay, every now and then, Wayland needed coin for various purchases that he couldn’t thieve or blag.

Wayland wandered from hamlet to hamlet, village to village, doing forge work for the locals that needed it exchanging bed and board for his craft. Wayland wasn’t a vagabond, far from it, more than anything he was a wanderer, because he just didn’t like folk. He felt by settling in one area for too long folk would tend to get friendly, which was totally against Wayland’s lifestyle. `

Wayland travelled far and wide as one journey took him onto another. He visited most of the important places throughout Wales, Calling in to see Geoffrey of Monmouth if he was in the vicinity. Geoffrey would listen to Wayland’s tales and fill in the gaps that Wayland was missing. He would wander hither and thither to and fro, without any set pattern or route, but that was how Wayland lived his life, he loved his life, even though it was a solitary one.

Wayland wandered over hill and down dale before realising that the landscape had changed around him. Also the lack of skirmishes between the locals had become fewer, almost to nonexistent. He had had difficult landscapes to traverse none more difficult than trying to cross rivers. This was a major difficulty for Wayland, as he was not brought up in such an environment; water was not his thing other than drinking it. But he overcame and adapted to every situation that presented itself. He would go many many days without even seeing another person, but all this quietness gave Wayland time to think, mainly about his own existence. Wayland’s contemplations were disturbed when he heard a snuffling at the tree line not too far from him. Most folk wouldn’t have noticed the sounds that Wayland was listening to, they would have thought it was the wind whistling through the trees, but not only did Wayland hear it, he identified it as a tasty meal, it was hogs, a small family of wild boar. Wayland settled himself, controlled his breathing and stealthily crept real close to the hogs. Wayland spied out one in particular, a young male, then launched himself at it with great precision as he wrestled it to the ground before suffocating it with his large hands. All the other hogs scattered off squealing in every direction in a great commotion as Wayland finished despatching this male hog. This method of catching his meals wasn’t always as successful. He would miss more times than a capture, but he was happy today as this would be the first proper meal in days, much better than berries and nuts.

Over the years Wayland had travelled north and south and east and west all over the isle with the thought of settling down. Being a nomad was enormous fun but he felt that he wanted to put down roots. He had forged new paths and way markers so he wouldn’t lose his way. Wayland had developed a early type of compass from a stone he had found in west Wales. Not that Wayland needed a compass as he could find his way at most times, including bad weather, where he had to lay up for days, sometimes weeks at a time, especially when there was a snow covering, he didn’t like to leave tracks from where he was going to and more importantly where he had come from, Wayland liked his solitude. Away in the distance Wayland could see the backbone of the country possibly two leagues away.

WOLF

Part way across this rocky landscape, Wayland was startled by a young wolf, it was down on its haunches ready to spring at Wayland. Wayland took a strong stand ready to catch the cub, which he did with ease. The cub fought valiantly with Wayland but it was no match and Wayland wrestled the cub into submission, but it was weak. Wayland fed it half a rabbit that he had caught that morning, Wayland continued his journey but the cub was not strong enough to keep up with Wayland’s strong strides.   He waited for the cub to catch up before lifting the cub onto his shoulder. The cub had taken a liking to Wayland and often times while across his shoulders the cub would lick Wayland’s ear or neck which Wayland found quite comforting. This was the start of a long friendship, in fact it was the only friendship that Wayland had had. The cub relied on Wayland like a mother. He taught the cub how to hunt and share its catch with himself. But the cub was Wayland’s nose and ears. The cub could hear things hundreds of yards away and smell anything over a mile distant, even the smoke from a small distant camp fire.

Even though the cub was still a youngster, Wayland could physically see the cub was much bigger and stronger from when they first found each other. Wayland deided that he couldn’t keep calling the cub, Cub, because before long he would be full grown and it needed a name more befitting his statue. So around the camp fire one evening with the cubs head across his feet he called the cub up to his chest and spoke quietly to him. “I believe that you are too big and strong to be called cub, I;m going to rename you this day as Wolf, what do you think about that,”. Wolf lifted his head and looked directly into Wayland’s eyes and gave a low grumble of a growl, as if to say, that will do fine my friend.

Wolf rarely travelled at Wayland’s side but either stayed away back by anything up to a mile or roamed in front of Wayland by a mile, this was to make sure no one was following or no one was lying in wait for him. Only when the way was clear did Wolf stay by Wayland’s left side.

Wolf was always hungry and one of his favourite meals that Wayland produced was a roasted egg, Goose eggs, in their shells, wrapped in mud and heated in the embers of a hot fire, once the mud had baked hard it was ready for eating, sometimes Wolf would devour the baked egg mud an all, in fact anything that had even the smell of baked goose egg in it was fair game to Wolf, he would lick and slobber over everything until there was no trace of the goose egg left. Wayland would often think that Pig would have been a more appropriate name for his friend. After all is said and done, both Wayland and his friend Wolf were very close with each other having each others back, not that neither of them that.

JOURNEY SOUTH

Wayland had reached the end of the Isles back bone and just decided to continue south, stopping off at various villages along the way for a day or two just to replenish their energy levels and pick up any worthwhile local gossip. The locals were very wary of Wolf who guarded Wayland with his life, especially when at the local ale house. Wolf plonked himself down by the open fire and blocked the heat to the rest of the room. As soon as Wolf laid down, the locals eased themselves up out of their chairs and sidled away towards the door, leaving space for Wayland to occupy the recently vacated chairs. Wayland had drunk half his ale and Wolf who had a liking for ale finished the bottom half. Wolf got gnarly if he couldn’t finish any of Wayland’s left overs. All this started on the first day of discovering each other when Wayland fed Wolf with half a rabbit; he felt it was his right to share everything of Wayland.

At some point Wayland and Wolf crossed the Bath Chippenham road to find a small farm that he was told about that may require some work doing. As it happened, the farmer had work but it was far removed from his usual run of the mill work. But it was going to be a free bed for the night.

In the corner of the huge barn was a very large wooden clamp that was absolutely full of apples. The farmer suggested that he would eat as many apples as was needed, Wolf as well. More importantly the farmer needed a tool to mash up all these apples to shovel into another clamp to produce cider. Wayland drew his huge knife and thrust it into the clamp of apples and at that point he realised that the apples needed to be chopped quicker. He quickly developed a four bladed knife on a long handle that not only took slices of the apple but chopped them into four in an easy movement. The clamp was soon reduced to pulp and Wayland continued to press the pulp through straw to filter the juice. A huge wooden press with a very large wooden screw was wound down to extract the most amount of juice from the clamp. Wayland and Wolf enjoyed the apple a juice a little too much and crashed out on the mountainous pile of straw. The farmer was delighted with his new tool and the work that Wayland had accomplished overnight. The farmer had left a few silver coins on Wayland’s chest as he lay sleeping, not even Wolf was disturbed by the farmers intrusion, with his head across Wayland’s feet. Wayland was happy with the donation from the farmer as it could pay his way at future ale houses. Wayland had a thought, as he bid the farmer farewell and continued to head south.

As Wayland headed south’ish on his journey, he looped the loop and zig zaged back and forth farm to farm, village to village.  There was a method to Wayland’s apparent haphazard wandering, what folk who came in contact with him didn’t know, was Wayland was educated, firstly in a Northumberland seat of learning, then later, as a top up, in Aberystwyth. Twas on one of his meanderings around the south counties that he worked for an armourer, making arrow heads, different sorts from war, hunting and even target points. Just as Wayland thought he was done, the armourer told Wayland he needed another thousand arrow heads.

THE KILLING OF A KINGS MAN

Wayland didn’t like anyone who negated on a contract, he was livid. What Wayland didn’t know was the armourer was a Kings man and the kings soldiers were on their way, to arrest Wayland. Wolf was as astute as ever and growled low and long, Wayland knew something was not right and could tell from Wolf’s growl, soldiers were on the way. Like lightening Wayland pulled his knife from his belt and tossed it right into the armourer’s chest. The deed was done and Wayland and Wolf had to make a quick getaway. it wasn’t the first life he had taken and guessed it wouldn’t be the last. In a swift movement, Wayland had relieved the armourer of his money bag and heart, tossing it to Wolf who caught it in mid air and ate while running for their lives.

SARNIA

Eventually Wayland and Wolf had arrived at Sarnia, which is where Wayland had that cider farm thought. Sarnia is a source of quality silver and this is what Wayland needed to fabricate coin. Its all well and good using copper for coinage, but copper tarnishes quite readily, Wayland needed a supply of a noble metal like silver, quite easy to work being soft and pliable. Wayland had a good deal of work to do to find the silver seam as the seam was inverted, but once found, chiselling it out was no problem at all.  Wayland and Wolf worked furiously for a couple of months with the minimum of tools and provisions, except for a local lady who brought food for them both. She didn’t know for why, but she felt it was the right thing to do. Wolf accepted her as a friend and looked forward to the supplies she had brought, Wolf was always hungry he even eat the bones as there was good nourishment within them.

Wayland didn’t understand the young ladies language as she spoke to him, likewise she didn’t understand him. They had been working the silver mine together for many weeks without any conversation between them, but Wolf had an idea but he couldn’t convey to Wayland what was being said. The only part of the name she gave herself was Swan which Wayland could manage and accepted. Likewise Swan just couldn’t make out what Wayland was saying about his name. They came to an understanding that Vehlund would do. It transpired that Swan came from the east and was captured by a raiding party and was sold into slavery but she managed to escape some months back and had been living rough, hand to mouth. Swan had moved herself into the tunnels that Wayland had made in search of the silver and it wasn’t long before Wayland, Wolf and Swan had set up a small hovel together. But it was a dry shelter for them which they all enjoyed. Of a night time after supper they would lay down together, Wolf had moved from sleeping across Wayland’s feet to sleeping between the two. Whilst living in the tunnel, it was decided that they would see out the autumn and winter and take off in the spring, weather permitting.  Whilst in the secluded security of the tunnel, Wayland worked the silver that they had mined.

Being a master blacksmith, Wayland was given the status as a freeman. Meaning he was beholden to no man, Wayland was his own boss, answerable to no man. But the king tried desperately to take away his privileges for whatever the reason. This is why Wayland was against most of those in authority, the local lord of the manor, the judicial service and even the king. What Wayland and Swan were doing in the tunnels was going to hurt the king in his pocket. Wayland was going to manufacture so called coins of the realm to undermine the kings treasury.

WAYLAND COINAGE

It was arduous work, long days, and Wayland had the weight of a man in silver to repurpose. First it was making the silver blanks, then stamping out the coin. It was a high quality coin, except it didn’t have the kings head on it, it was Wayland’s head. The legend around the coin was in Nordic rune, except the rune was in reverse, so it looked nothing like a coin of the realm, not that anybody knew how to read. The only way the populace knew who the current king was by looking at his face on a local coin. But with seven kings in the land, the coin could well have travelled down country from the northern regions.

Throughout the production of the coin being manufactured it soon became apparent that the pair of them wouldn’t be able to carry all the coin made, there were thousands of them, Swan told Wayland to leave it to her for transport. Near the end of their stay in their quite homely hovel, Swan took off early one morn and arrived back after dark leading three horses. Swan explained to Wayland that she was from a family that delt in horse, they caught the wild horse, and broke them in ready for the horsemen. As Swan was trying to settle the horses in their temporary surroundings, one of the horses, a young male horse got very skittish, she grabbed its’ ear and pulled down hard, which seemed to settle the horse, Swan showed it who was boss. During the night Wayland and Swan loaded a horse with sacks of coin, and rode the other two away under cover of darkness. It was their plan to cover eight or ten leagues over night and it would take many weeks to reach their first destination. Wolf would travel up to a mile in front, making sure the way was clear of robbers and bandits. Wolf would wait until Wayland and Swan had caught up before moving on again. By chance Wayland caught up with Merlin, and off loaded a sack of coin to him to distribute to the poor snd needy that he knew were against the king. Likewise when he reached Geoffry of Monmouth the same thing happened. Geoffry wass very pleased with Wayland and what he had achieved. Monmouth knew exactly where to lay of the monies that he was given by Wayland. Wayland didn’t have time for niceties as he had a long journey north to other needy folk that he definitely knew of that could do with an influx of cash. Everyone he laid monies of too, there was a stipulation and that was, his monies had to go back to the kings treasury in the form of taxes paid.