Viking Round Shields: Why I Build and Carve Them the Way I Do

One of my round Viking inspired shields featuring our own Clan Rúnda logo.

There are few objects more immediately recognizable as Viking than the round shield. Simple in shape, relatively light, and highly functional, the round shield was an important part of Viking Age warfare. Archaeological finds give us a surprisingly good idea of how many of these shields were constructed, while artwork from the period gives us glimpses of how they may have looked. I have spent a lot of time studying information about those surviving examples, and when I build a shield, I want that history to be present in what I make. I also want to be very clear about something: The shields I make are not archaeological reproductions. They are my art, inspired by the Viking Age. That distinction is important to me.

I've seen a lot of shields offered today with words like authentic, historically accurate, and battle ready prominently attached to them. Sometimes those descriptions are used very loosely, and in some cases I don't believe they accurately represent what is actually being sold. I don't want to do that.

I feel like there is a temptation, especially when making Viking-inspired products, to use the word authentic because it sounds reassuring. It tells a customer that they are getting something genuine, something that has been made exactly as it would have been a thousand years ago. I would rather be honest than try to be impressive. My shields are not archaeological reproductions, and I don't want someone buying one under the impression that they are. Likewise, I don't want to call something battle ready simply because it is strong or because it looks like something a Viking might have carried. I think I'd cry if someone took one of my shields into battle to be honest. A shield designed and carved as a piece of art has a different purpose from a shield specifically engineered and tested for combat or historical martial arts.

There is nothing wrong with making a reproduction. There is nothing wrong with making a modern shield for reenactment or combat practice. Those are worthwhile crafts in their own right. But I believe the maker should be honest about what they have made.

If I make a work of art inspired by a Viking shield, I will call it that. If I know something is based on an archaeological example, I'll tell you. If something is my own interpretation, I'll tell you that too. I'd rather earn someone's trust by being straightforward than make a sale by making a claim I can't stand behind. For me, that's simply part of craftsmanship. If I'm asking someone to value something I've made with my own hands, then I should be willing to stand behind not only the quality of the object, but the honesty of the story I tell about it.

How Viking Round Shields Were Built

Viking Age shields were generally made from relatively thin wooden boards joined together to form a round shield. Several archaeological discoveries give us a good look at this construction. The famous shields from the Gokstad ship burial in Norway, for example, were made from white pine and were approximately 94 centimeters in diameter. The boards were relatively thin and became narrower toward the outer edge.

The Trelleborg shield from Denmark provides another remarkable example. It was made from pine and preserves much of its original construction, including the central hand opening and wooden grip.

At the center of a traditional round shield was an opening for the hand. An iron shield boss protected the hand and formed the distinctive raised center we associate with Viking shields. A grip behind the boss allowed the shield to be held in the middle which helped with balance. The edges could also be reinforced to help protect the wooden boards from splitting.

There is some variation between surviving examples, and there are still questions about exactly how every shield was constructed and used. That is one of the things I find fascinating about working with historical objects. We know quite a lot, but we certainly don't know everything.

A Shield Was a Tool

The primary purpose of a Viking shield was protection. It needed to be strong enough to stop or deflect weapons while remaining light enough to maneuver. It could be held between the warrior and an incoming blow, but it was also something that could be actively moved and used during combat.

But being a tool did not necessarily mean being plain. We have significant evidence of decorated shields from Viking Age artwork, and some surviving archaeological examples preserve traces of paint. The Gokstad shields, for example, were painted yellow and blue. That tells us something I think is easy to forget when we look at archaeological artifacts today. People in the past cared about how their things looked. A useful object could also be beautiful.

Why I Build My Viking Shields Differently

This is where my shields take a deliberate turn away from historical reconstruction.

I build my shields from pine planks, just as the basic construction of some surviving Viking Age shields was based on wooden boards. But I don't cover those boards with canvas or fabric and simply paint a historical design onto the surface.

Instead, I carve the wood itself.

For me, the wood is part of the artwork. I want to see the grain. I want to feel the depth of the carving. I want light to move across the surface and create shadows in the design. I carve dragons, serpents, animals, knotwork, and other designs inspired by Viking Age art. I am not claiming that a Viking warrior would have carried one of my designs into battle. That isn't what I'm trying to accomplish. Instead, I'm taking a historical object and allowing it to become the foundation for my own artwork.

I'm Making Art, Not Archaeological Replicas

This distinction is one of the reasons I am comfortable calling what I do historically inspired. If I were making an archaeological reproduction, my goal would be different.

I would be trying to reproduce a particular surviving shield as closely as possible. I would research its dimensions, materials, construction, decoration, and other known characteristics and attempt to recreate the original object.

That is, by they, a very worthwhile thing to do. It simply isn't what I am doing. When I make one of my shields, I start with something historical and ask myself where I can take it as an artist. The round shield is historically grounded. The pine construction is historically grounded. The inspiration for the artwork comes from Viking Age designs. But the carving and composition is all mine. All the artistic decisions are mine. I think that is perfectly appropriate. The Vikings themselves were not simply copying everything that came before them. They were craftspeople and artists who worked with the materials, traditions, and ideas available to them and created something of their own. I want to approach the craft with that same spirit.

What Hasn't Changed

Even though my shields serve a completely different purpose, there is one thing I hope they have in common with the shields made a thousand years ago.

Care.

A Viking shield was not simply a circle cut out of a piece of wood. Someone selected the timber, split or shaped the boards, then assembled them and fitted the grip. Someone made and attached the expensive iron shield boss. Someone else may have painted or decorated it for the owner. It was the product of someone's hands and someone's knowledge. Perhaps several individuals even worked on it.

When I build a shield, I think about that. I think about the fact that someone a thousand years ago stood in a workshop or outside a house and worked through the same basic process of turning raw material into something useful. And although my purpose and my tools may not be the same, and my finished product certainly looks different, I still believe there is value in taking the time to make something well.

Why I Carve the Shield Instead of Covering It

There is also something personal about carving directly into the wood. When I carve a design into a shield, I cannot simply erase it if I make a mistake. Beleive me, the wood remembers. Every cut I make changes the piece. That is part of what I enjoy about carving honestly. The process slows me down. It forces me to pay attention to the material rather than simply forcing the material to become whatever I have imagined.

And when the shield is finished, you can still see evidence that a person made it.

The grain isn't perfectly uniform. The carving isn't machine-perfect. There are small differences from one piece to the next. And I don't see those things as flaws, rather I see them as evidence of my craft.

History Gives Me the Starting Point

This is ultimately why I make Viking-inspired shields the way I do. I don't want to pretend that I have traveled backward in time and brought a Viking shield into the modern world. I want to take something that genuinely existed, learn as much as I can about it, understand the people who made it, and then let that knowledge inspire something new.

That means I can respect the archaeological evidence wit

hout pretending that every artistic choice I make is historically documented. I can admire a surviving shield without believing that it limits what I am allowed to create. And I can make something that feels connected to the Viking Age while being completely honest that it is my interpretation of that inspiration.

You can see a sampling of shields I've carved in the Workshop section of this website.