boys managed to hit the warrior on the side of his helmet and he fell to the ground. An archer pinned his leg to the bridge. They were brave but they were now doomed to failure. As men hefted their axes and attempted to hack the gate, stones and arrows struck them. They began to pull back. In the time it took them to rejoin the other half they lost a further two warriors. Ten lay wounded or dead. They would be an obstacle for the next attack.
The next attack did not materialize. The leader, mounted on his horse, took off his helmet and approached the gates with his hands out, palms uppermost. They wish to talk. Ulf looked at me, "This is your fort, Ulf Olafsson. It is for you to speak."
He took off his helmet. His eyes, red with cochineal made him look even more frightening. He sheathed his sword and leaned against the wall. The northerner halted at the bridge. I saw his eyes glance down at the dead and the dying. He spoke our language, badly, but better than Ulf could speak his.
"We have come to punish you for attacking our people."
Ulf nodded, "And now that we are punished you can go back home!"
The man frowned, "You are not yet punished!"
"You have attacked my walls. Let us call that punishment."
"You must pay us for the men you killed and the animals you took!"
Ulf laughed, "Are all your people as stupid as you? We have taken back merely that which your people stole from us. I am here to tell you that if you raid again then we will make war on you and make your land a place of bones."
It was the barbarians turn to laugh. "With such a small number of men? I think not!"
I took off my helmet. I had enough of their language to speak to him, "No, friend, Jarl Ulf will have the support of Jarl Dragonheart, the Wolf Warrior and we will feast on the flesh of your animals!"
I could see that he expected neither to be addressed in his own tongue nor for it to be me who did so. He pointed to Ulf, "Let you and I settle this! We will fight man to man here!"
Ulf said, "And when I win, what then?"
"My men will return home and there will be peace. The gods will decide this."
"Very well."
As he turned I said, "You do not need to do this."
Ulf smiled, "You and I know that I do Jarl."
I nodded, "Make sure you win."
He tightened his wolf skin about his shoulders. He was Ulfheonar. He would win. It mattered not how strong the other warrior was. Ulf would keep fighting until life left him. Others stopped long before death!
The barbarian took off his cloak. I saw that his mail was just a chest and back protector. His arms were bare and it did not reach past his knees. His shield was slightly smaller than Ulf's. All of this was important. I could not tell who had made his sword. Bjorn had made Ulf's and his would be true and strong. Ulf would wear his cloak. He had killed the wolf he wore and eaten of its heart. It gave him the protection of the wolf and would not impede him when he fought.
Erik, Rolf and Rollo accompanied him to watch for any treachery. I did not think that there would be. The warriors from north of the border were, generally, honourable. There was little preamble. Any words which needed to be said had been spoken already. Ulf was marginally shorter than the chief and that would give his opponent a slight advantage but Ulf was fighting for more than the chief from Strathclyde, he was fighting for his own land.
The chief swung his sword and Ulf blocked it with his shield. When Ulf tried a swashing blow at the chief he countered it with his own shield. I saw the disparity in size of shield. Ulf's, like mine, was so big that it virtually just rested upon his arm and shoulder, held there by a long leather strap as well as the grip. The barbarian's was much smaller and he had to expend energy raising it. The blow from Ulf also had more direction and the bigger man reeled a little.
Each man fights his own way. I always liked to move quickly and go on the
The next attack did not materialize. The leader, mounted on his horse, took off his helmet and approached the gates with his hands out, palms uppermost. They wish to talk. Ulf looked at me, "This is your fort, Ulf Olafsson. It is for you to speak."
He took off his helmet. His eyes, red with cochineal made him look even more frightening. He sheathed his sword and leaned against the wall. The northerner halted at the bridge. I saw his eyes glance down at the dead and the dying. He spoke our language, badly, but better than Ulf could speak his.
"We have come to punish you for attacking our people."
Ulf nodded, "And now that we are punished you can go back home!"
The man frowned, "You are not yet punished!"
"You have attacked my walls. Let us call that punishment."
"You must pay us for the men you killed and the animals you took!"
Ulf laughed, "Are all your people as stupid as you? We have taken back merely that which your people stole from us. I am here to tell you that if you raid again then we will make war on you and make your land a place of bones."
It was the barbarians turn to laugh. "With such a small number of men? I think not!"
I took off my helmet. I had enough of their language to speak to him, "No, friend, Jarl Ulf will have the support of Jarl Dragonheart, the Wolf Warrior and we will feast on the flesh of your animals!"
I could see that he expected neither to be addressed in his own tongue nor for it to be me who did so. He pointed to Ulf, "Let you and I settle this! We will fight man to man here!"
Ulf said, "And when I win, what then?"
"My men will return home and there will be peace. The gods will decide this."
"Very well."
As he turned I said, "You do not need to do this."
Ulf smiled, "You and I know that I do Jarl."
I nodded, "Make sure you win."
He tightened his wolf skin about his shoulders. He was Ulfheonar. He would win. It mattered not how strong the other warrior was. Ulf would keep fighting until life left him. Others stopped long before death!
The barbarian took off his cloak. I saw that his mail was just a chest and back protector. His arms were bare and it did not reach past his knees. His shield was slightly smaller than Ulf's. All of this was important. I could not tell who had made his sword. Bjorn had made Ulf's and his would be true and strong. Ulf would wear his cloak. He had killed the wolf he wore and eaten of its heart. It gave him the protection of the wolf and would not impede him when he fought.
Erik, Rolf and Rollo accompanied him to watch for any treachery. I did not think that there would be. The warriors from north of the border were, generally, honourable. There was little preamble. Any words which needed to be said had been spoken already. Ulf was marginally shorter than the chief and that would give his opponent a slight advantage but Ulf was fighting for more than the chief from Strathclyde, he was fighting for his own land.
The chief swung his sword and Ulf blocked it with his shield. When Ulf tried a swashing blow at the chief he countered it with his own shield. I saw the disparity in size of shield. Ulf's, like mine, was so big that it virtually just rested upon his arm and shoulder, held there by a long leather strap as well as the grip. The barbarian's was much smaller and he had to expend energy raising it. The blow from Ulf also had more direction and the bigger man reeled a little.
Each man fights his own way. I always liked to move quickly and go on the
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