Viking Treasure by Griff Hosker Page B

and I led the charge.  We were attacking Franks who were already unhappy. As the archers rained death on the rear ranks we hacked and slashed our way through them. One warrior, braver than the rest, tried to face me. He looked in disbelief as I brought the long Frankish sword overhead. I smashed into his shield which shattered.  Pulling my arm back I stabbed forward for his middle was now unprotected. As the sword entered him he grabbed hold of it and, dying, tore it from my grip.  I took out Ragnar's Spirit and raising it yelled, "Ragnar's Spirit! The sword touched by the gods!"
    I heard the men of Cyninges-tūn roar as they pressed behind us. It was like a mighty wave pushing a drekar along.  It had a life of its own.  We found ourselves swept towards and through the Franks. It proved too much and they fled.  Those who had survived the arrows and our blades now ran and we turned to face the Frisians. Ketil was beleaguered.  I saw his banner as the battle swayed back and forth.
    It was then that Olaf Leather Neck went berserk.  It was not the madness which made him charge into the midst of the enemy it was the joy of battle. He dropped his shield and, wielding his axe two handed, he ran into the heart of the Frisians.  Rolf Horse Killer had an axe which had once belonged to Olaf and he hurled himself after his friend. The two axes carved a passage through the already shaken Frisians.  The Ulfheonar do not let their comrades die easily and we poured through the gap they had created. I used my shield as a weapon as I stabbed and chopped with my sword.  It had a freshly sharpened blade and tore through both mail and leather. The men we fought were already reeling from the shower of arrows and the relentless pressure of our wedge. They had the panicked look of animals who are cornered and as such were dangerous.
    A Frisian axe came towards me. I blocked it on my shield and stepped forward to stab at the Frisian.  He countered with his shield and I brought my head forward to butt him in the face.  His round helmet offered no protection to his face and his head jerked back.  I punched again with my shield and he fell beneath my feet.  I stabbed downwards and pinned him to the ground. Olaf and Rolf were carving a path towards the skull banner. I heard a wail from those ahead.  I risked a glance behind and I saw Erik Eriksson with my banner.  The reinforcements had arrived. Ulf Olafsson and the last of the men of  Cyninges-tūn had reached the battle. It proved to be the final straw. The skull banner and the horse banner began to move east. Ragnar Ruriksson had gambled and he had failed.  He was extricating himself from his men.  They were hired men. I saw warriors protecting him as they fled.  They had red and white skulls painted on their shields.  I had not seen them fight yet and knew they must have been a reserve.  My enemy was saving himself with this reserve.
    Ending a battle sometimes takes as long as winning a whole battle.  There were dead and dying leaders whose oathsworn fought to retrieve their bodies.  There were others fighting for honour.  Their deaths bought the time for Ragnar Ruriksson to flee. By the time the killing had stopped the survivors had escaped. We were exhausted and many of our men lay dead yet the whole army of the Land of the Wolf began to chant, "Dragonheart!" over and over.  We had won. The threat was gone, at least for a while.
    There were many men who were badly wounded on both sides. Aiden himself would not have been able to save them.  Those of our men whom we could save we took within Elfridaby's walls where the women of the town cared for them.  Aiden arrived with Erik Eriksson.  He had come with the handful of reinforcements which had been mustered. Snorri had sent a rider to fetch him and it was good that he had.  Aiden saved lives. His hands saved far more than died of their wounds.
    There were prisoners.  Ten Franks, two Frisians and eight Danes were