Page 34 of A Shield Maiden's Earl
Seconds later, another arrow sliced through the throat of one of Leif’s men, killing him instantly. Another landed in one of my men’s thighs, and he dropped to his knees. Roaring for everyone to take shelter behind the nearest wreckage, I half-dragged, half-carried him behind the closest boat, which, as it happened, was a merchant vessel, so it must have belonged to the merchantman I’d pulled from the water the night before.
“There,” Leif called out, pointing at a band of Scots on a sizeable mound to our northwest. “’Tis coming from there.”
Cursing under my breath, I ripped a piece of material off my tunic and pressed it into my man’s wound to slow the blood flow after he yanked the arrow free. We had nothing with which to defend ourselves, so all we could do was seek shelter until they got closer, then battle with our bare hands. Even though I spied one or two armored helmets washed ashore, they were inaccessible at the moment, and I had yet to see any weapons.
“They come fast!” Leif gestured at the incoming boats. “We need only hold our ground until then.”
They were indeed coming fast, and our fellow countrymen were already jumping ashore by the time the Scots got closer. Realizing how vastly outnumbered they were, the enemy fled before they could cause any more damage.
“Our luck seems to be holding on but by a thread,” I muttered to Leif as more Norwegians came ashore soon after, including a wiry but seasoned warrior and nobleman named OgmundCrouchdance. King Hákon often called on him to command his armies, and this time was no different.
“’Tis good to see you and most of your men alive,” Ogmund said in greeting, assessing the wreckage. “King Hákon and the rest of his fleet should be here within the hour.” Taking in our surroundings, he pointed to the mound on which the Scotsmen had recently stood. “We will bring a quarter of our men up there, and King Hákon and the rest of the fleet will fight down here, as I suspect we can count on far more Scottish arriving soon.”
In agreement, we were given blades, shields, and helmets, and helped prepare with the smaller fleet on the mound. We saw the king sparingly after he arrived, as he oversaw the bulk of his men on the shore. Only long enough to offer his condolences on the loss of our men’s lives, and to assure us he would see our ships replaced. It was more than most kings would do, so we could only be grateful, despite how foolhardy we still thought this venture.
Unfortunately, late in the afternoon the next day, our run of questionable luck ran out when a sizeable Scottish force approached not from the north or east as Ogmund and King Hákon thought they would, but from the south. That meant they could very well cut our smaller fleet off from the shore, which, far outnumbered, would lead to our inevitable slaughter.
“’Tis a sizeable vanguard,” Ogmund’s scout reported, seeming distressed and rightfully so. “Mayhap double our entire fleet and well-armed.”
Leif and I glanced at each other as Ogmund debated how best to handle this. We knew there was only one course of action if any of us on the mound hoped to survive. We needed to get to the shore with the remainder of the fleet and protect King Hákon as he retreated to safety, for as we’d feared from the start, this was no winnable battle.
When Ogmund continued weighing his options and consulted with us, I said as much. “’Tis not worth it.” I looked at him gravely. “Even if by some stroke of luck, we managed to defeat an army twice our size, you can guarantee there will be plenty more behind them, and we’ll be too worn down at that point.” I gestured at the ships in the distance. “Our wisest move to spare countless lives is to leave now, whilst there’s still a chance.”
“I agree with Soren,” Leif said. “’Tis the soundest course of action.”
Ogmund considered us for a moment before, thankfully, he conceded and ordered all to begin an orderly trek down the mound back to the oceanfront.
“Now let us hope ’tis not too late,” I said under my breath, striding alongside Leif. A bad feeling churned in my gut despite our promising course of action. Yet all seemed to be going well as we made our way through the woodland and twilight descended.
That is, until several arrows came out of nowhere and two men fell.
“Here we go again,” I muttered before the forest erupted behind us with Scottish warriors who knew this land far better than we did.
Spinning, I whipped a dagger into a warrior flying at me on horseback, then spun and drove my blade into the shoulder of another as the woodland exploded in battle around me. Dropping to a knee when two more came at me, I sliced the calf of the Scot on my right and spun low, tripping the other. When he hit the ground, I pressed my heel to the back of his neck and drove the same dagger into his shoulder, causing a great deal of pain and rendering his arm useless.
“Go,” I roared at Ogmund.
Leaping to my feet, I whipped another dagger, dropping a man who had rushed at my commander from behind. Though itbroke my heart to say it because I knew I would never see Freya again nor meet our child, I would protect my king and as many of my countrymen as possible. “Lead as many as you can to the shore and see him safely from these shores, Ogmund.” I looked at my men, not wanting them to die so pointlessly either. “Go!”
I had purposely not said Hákon’s name to Ogmund so the Scots wouldn’t know they fought the King of Norway himself. Nodding once at Ogmund in reassurance, I let him know I intended to hold back as many Scots as I could to give him and as many of our men as possible a chance to flee.
Then, I turned, battle axe in hand, ready to face off with too many warriors to count, only for everything to still inside me for a flicker of a moment. Calm in a way I had never felt before, Freya’s warmth filled me, and I knew she was with me somehow in these final moments.
As if time had slowed, I looked to my right and saw the spirit of a large blackish-gray wolf, representing my ancestors, and to the left, a monstrous polar bear, representing hers. Here at Freya’s command to lend me strength. Courage. Ferociousness. Fearlessness. Empowered by it, battle lust overcame me, and I raced toward a wall of warriors.
It became a battle dance of rage and blood after that, as I fought dozens, only to realize I was not alone. Leif was beside me along with several of my men, and we fought as a team. We spun, sliced, kicked, and punched, fighting more than we could ever conquer while buying our countrymen time.
Yet as we fought, we fell one by one.
First one man, then the next, then another, to the mighty power of the Scots defending their land, and I felt the loss of my men to the core. Mourned them even as I roared and kept battling, relentless in my need to save as many as possible, may they soon be offshore.
Then it was just me and Leif, with far too many coming at us.
We worked together, fighting the best battle of our lives, cutting down enemy after enemy until so many came at us that I lost sight of him in the mayhem. At one point, I thought I glimpsed him going down, but I had no way of helping him with so many coming at me.
After that, everything seemed to go by slowly and fast all at once, as I battled on and on until someone slammed me onto my back. The air rushed from my lungs, and I tried to move, fight back, anything, but it was too late. A Scottish warrior stood over me with fury in his eyes and drove a broad sword into my gut, roaring, “Heathen!”
Then he was gone, and all I could do was watch helplessly as endless Scots rushed by me toward the shore.
