"He said we are to keep out of sight until he returns."
"But I can see nothing from here," complained the eparch. He endured the ignominy of our position for but a moment or two longer, and when there came a great shout from the battleline, Nicephorus bolted from beneath the wagon, shouting, "I will not be seen hiding like a coward!"
I ran after him, seized him, and pulled him back to the wagon. We did not go under it again, but we did stand beside it to watch the battle. What we saw, however, filled our mouths with bile. Everywhere, the Danes were being driven down. The ranks of the enemy had swelled the more, and were in danger of overwhelming all resistance.
Even as we watched, there came another great shout and the dark foe surged as one, throwing back the defenders ten paces at once. Another shout, another surge, and the forerank buckled and gave way. The resistance was breached and our defences in imminent danger of being overwhelmed.
Harald was a canny battlechief; he would not allow himself to be surrounded so easily. Realizing the peril, he raised his bull roar and began calling the retreat. The Viking warriors fell back and soon were passing along the road. Gunnar ran to us. "The battle is lost," he said, breathing hard. "We must flee while we can. This way. Go!"
So saying, he spun me around and began pushing me ahead of him. "This way!" I shouted to the eparch. "He will protect us!"
Back along the road we fled, past the broken mounds of rock which now marked the graves of Danes, merchants and their families, running for our lives. The traders who survived, having seen how the fight was turning, were already fleeing up the hill; I could see them before us, bent beneath the burdens they sought to save.
The first of the traders reached the crest of the hill and fled over the top. Seeing their escape, we all ran the harder to make good our own.
Alas and woe! It was not to be.
No sooner had the escaping merchants vanished from sight than they reappeared once more, flying down the hill and screaming for everyone to turn back. Not comprehending the significance of their screams, we proceeded on a few more paces. Two heartbeats later there arose before us an enemy host as great or greater than the one that came behind. They seemed to spring up out of the hilltop to sweep swiftly down upon us.
"Stay down!" cried Gunnar, pushing me to the ground even as he ran to engage the attackers. Reaching up, I pulled the eparch down beside me, and we hunkered there, half-crouched by the roadside, as merchants and traders streamed back wailing in terror as they ran. Some still carried their wares on their backs.
Caught between two enemy forces-one behind and an even greater one before, the Danes had no choice but to fight on to the last man, or surrender.
It is not in the Sea Wolves to surrender.
Harald rallied his men-now numbering fewer than eighty, I reckoned-and renewed the fight. Bellowing like a mad bull, he called on Odin to witness his valour, then he and his remaining karlar rushed to meet the new threat with such ferocity that the enemy was momentarily staggered. The onrushing ranks halted and were in some places thrown into confusion as howling Sea Wolves, gripped by the blood-lust of battle, drove headlong into them. The sound of the clash was deafening-men screaming, cursing, crying as they fought and died.
Oh, it was a dreadful slaughter. The Danes fought with astonishing courage, time and time again performing startling acts of savage and wonderful daring. I saw Hnefi-arrogant, prideful warrior that he was-fight without a weapon when the broken stub of his sword was struck from his hand. Rather than retreat to find another blade, he darted forth, grabbed his foe, lifted him high, and threw the man into a knot of advancing enemy. Four men went down and Hnefi leapt upon them and slew them all with their own spears.
Another Dane, surrounded by six or more foemen, his spear broken and knowing he faced his death, took hold of the edge of his shield and, with a loud cry of defiance, began spinning around and around, the shield forming a wide arc. Two ambushers who tried to dart in under the shield to stab him with their spears had their skulls cracked by the iron rim; another lost his own weapon and darted aside just in time. The three that were left retreated to a safe distance and then threw their spears at once. The Viking was struck twice, but turned one of the spears on his attackers and killed one and wounded another before he succumbed.
Gunnar I glimpsed in the killing heat of the fray, leaping and whirling like an enraged animal, his hammer a blur of steel and blood about his head. I heard the awful sound of bones snapping and breaking beneath the fury of his blows. He charged and charged again. Two of the dark enemy fell to a single smashing stroke; he felled a third before the second struck the ground.
