Jarl Harald’s men were pushed back foot by foot until they were level with the tiller and crammed beneath the great sternpost where the resin-sheened sheer strakes were carved with runes and gripping beasts.
Slagfid beat a man’s shield down and Thorvard plunged his sword into the man’s face, the blade erupting from the skull in a gleam of bone shards and blood. The man fell and Sorli burst forward into the gap, hacking his hand axe into a warrior’s face and cleaving off his jaw before jumping back into his own shieldwall as quick as a lightning strike. But now some of Randver’s men aboard the ship lashed to
Reinen
’s port side were loosing arrows and these shafts streaked into Harald’s men who could not have their shields in two places at once, though three or four turned and tried to raise a rampart against this new threat.
Reinen
’s helmsman Thorald took an arrow in his neck and clutching at the thing dropped over the side and vanished. Then Harald staggered forward and Sigurd saw a feathered shaft jutting from his shoulder, though the rings of his brynja had taken the force and he made a show of standing tall again and rolling his shoulders.
‘What do we do?’ Aslak called, his face ashen, wide eyes appalled by what they were witnessing. ‘They’ll come for us soon enough.’
Sigurd did not answer. He stood swaying with the fishing boat, watching his father’s and his brothers’ last moments, and he could not tear his eyes away. A spear blade plunged into Aud’s eye and he screamed, his shield arm falling so that the same spear struck again, opening his great belly, and Sigurd saw the glistening rope of his guts spring loose to thump on the deck. Olaf was barking commands, encouraging men to keep their shields overlapping and their heads down. Slagfid was growling at the enemy to come and die on his sword and Sigurd’s brothers were shoulder to shoulder now, defiance coming off them like the stink of blood. But they were trapped and had barely the room to use their swords and it seemed that they would be tipped into the sea like discarded fish guts and would all get drowning deaths, which was something a man feared more than almost anything.
Perhaps that thought was too sour for Sorli, who surged forward, slamming his shield into the enemy rampart and throwing up his arm, reversing the blade to hack into the back of a man who was too tightly pressed to do anything about it. And with this the rest of Harald’s men came spitting fury and contempt, throwing themselves at the enemy with their last strength. They were cut down, savaged by sword, spear and axe, and Sigurd yelled at Svein to row them even closer to
Reinen
’s stern. Svein said nothing but the oars plunged and the boat moved and Aslak sat in the stern keeping his protests behind a barricade of gritted teeth.
‘The jarl! Protect the jarl!’ someone yelled and Sigurd knew his father had been cut down though he had not seen the act.
‘Vigdis!’ Sigurd called, recognizing the warrior for the bear skin he wore, and Vigdis turned to look over the side, the eyes beneath his helmet’s rim bulging when they saw Sigurd and his friends.
‘Fuck off, boy!’ Vigdis shouted. ‘Get back to the village!’ Vigdis, who had told Sigurd there was no honour in how he had beaten Olaf the night before, possessed enough honour now to hurl himself at the enemy lest they notice Sigurd, and Sigurd cursed as the man disappeared from sight.
Then Sigurd saw Alfdis where Vigdis had been and he called to him and Alfdis was similarly shocked to see him but Sigurd gave the man no time to speak.
‘The jarl!’ Sigurd yelled, pointing back into the fishing boat, and Alfdis understood without a moment’s hesitation and nodded. Sigurd’s heart hammered against his chest and he feared he was too late but then Alfdis and a man named Jorund came to the side and slung in between them was the jarl, wounded but alive. But then Alfdis was cut down and a big man
Slagfid beat a man’s shield down and Thorvard plunged his sword into the man’s face, the blade erupting from the skull in a gleam of bone shards and blood. The man fell and Sorli burst forward into the gap, hacking his hand axe into a warrior’s face and cleaving off his jaw before jumping back into his own shieldwall as quick as a lightning strike. But now some of Randver’s men aboard the ship lashed to
Reinen
’s port side were loosing arrows and these shafts streaked into Harald’s men who could not have their shields in two places at once, though three or four turned and tried to raise a rampart against this new threat.
Reinen
’s helmsman Thorald took an arrow in his neck and clutching at the thing dropped over the side and vanished. Then Harald staggered forward and Sigurd saw a feathered shaft jutting from his shoulder, though the rings of his brynja had taken the force and he made a show of standing tall again and rolling his shoulders.
‘What do we do?’ Aslak called, his face ashen, wide eyes appalled by what they were witnessing. ‘They’ll come for us soon enough.’
Sigurd did not answer. He stood swaying with the fishing boat, watching his father’s and his brothers’ last moments, and he could not tear his eyes away. A spear blade plunged into Aud’s eye and he screamed, his shield arm falling so that the same spear struck again, opening his great belly, and Sigurd saw the glistening rope of his guts spring loose to thump on the deck. Olaf was barking commands, encouraging men to keep their shields overlapping and their heads down. Slagfid was growling at the enemy to come and die on his sword and Sigurd’s brothers were shoulder to shoulder now, defiance coming off them like the stink of blood. But they were trapped and had barely the room to use their swords and it seemed that they would be tipped into the sea like discarded fish guts and would all get drowning deaths, which was something a man feared more than almost anything.
Perhaps that thought was too sour for Sorli, who surged forward, slamming his shield into the enemy rampart and throwing up his arm, reversing the blade to hack into the back of a man who was too tightly pressed to do anything about it. And with this the rest of Harald’s men came spitting fury and contempt, throwing themselves at the enemy with their last strength. They were cut down, savaged by sword, spear and axe, and Sigurd yelled at Svein to row them even closer to
Reinen
’s stern. Svein said nothing but the oars plunged and the boat moved and Aslak sat in the stern keeping his protests behind a barricade of gritted teeth.
‘The jarl! Protect the jarl!’ someone yelled and Sigurd knew his father had been cut down though he had not seen the act.
‘Vigdis!’ Sigurd called, recognizing the warrior for the bear skin he wore, and Vigdis turned to look over the side, the eyes beneath his helmet’s rim bulging when they saw Sigurd and his friends.
‘Fuck off, boy!’ Vigdis shouted. ‘Get back to the village!’ Vigdis, who had told Sigurd there was no honour in how he had beaten Olaf the night before, possessed enough honour now to hurl himself at the enemy lest they notice Sigurd, and Sigurd cursed as the man disappeared from sight.
Then Sigurd saw Alfdis where Vigdis had been and he called to him and Alfdis was similarly shocked to see him but Sigurd gave the man no time to speak.
‘The jarl!’ Sigurd yelled, pointing back into the fishing boat, and Alfdis understood without a moment’s hesitation and nodded. Sigurd’s heart hammered against his chest and he feared he was too late but then Alfdis and a man named Jorund came to the side and slung in between them was the jarl, wounded but alive. But then Alfdis was cut down and a big man
Similar Books
