"But Thor is with us," he had protested. "We go to destroy our enemies at last, and he celebrates with us."
"No battle is won until you stand in the blood of your enemies." The words sounded like Ulfrik's to Runa's mind, and had the same effect that he had with Gunnar. He allowed her to guide him away from the rails.
For all the fury in the skies, little rain fell. Konal further proclaimed this as a sign of Thor's favor. Wet ground and wet weapons would make combat a misery.
As they neared the island where Skard sheltered his army, the clouds broke up and but for an errant flash of lightning and grumble of thunder, the storm passed. Men on both ships cheered, confident of victory and anticipating glory and spoils. Their looting of Thorod's hall had yielded more than the village would have appeared to possess, but still less than what the men desired. Bjornolf's daughter, whose name Runa still did not know, tucked fearfully into the shadows of the gunwales. Gunnar tried to speak to her, but she dropped her head and refused to answer.
Skard's hall lay within a thin fjord of high cliffs, where Konal spotted men who either were sentries or lucky wanderers. By the time he led his ships to the soft sand beach and disgorged his crews, Skard had been alerted. The warriors on the beach shouted war cries when they heard distant horns blasting in warning.
"Stay on this ship and if evil men come …," Runa's words faded as she held Gunnar's shoulders. Swallowing, she squeezed his shoulder and turned away. She wanted to wrap her arms about him and promise safety. Yet even Gunnar was not so young to realize if his mother did not return he would be orphaned at best, or killed by the enemy at worst.
"I will protect myself, Mother." He patted the short sword at his side. Runa smiled, admiring his fighting spirit even as she knew Gunnar had little hope in a fight with a man.
"When I return, all evil will be wiped from these islands and we will live in peace. The gods are with us today." Their eyes held, and Runa feared emotion would ruin her ability to lead these men.
Disembarking, she joined Konal and Kell as they assembled with their best warriors. Konal was completing his instructions for the attack. "The land is flat and open, so loop behind and we will have surrounded them. There can't be many of them. It will be butchery today."
The men glanced at Runa as she joined their circle. Konal directed her up a shallow grass slope toward the horizon. Sun shafts poked through black clouds, shining on the dark line of warriors.
"The gods have marked them for us," Runa said. "Skard and his foul kin will be forever wiped from the land today. Let no one live; no one survives."
"What about the villagers?" Kell asked, sharing a look with his brother. "We were promised captives for ransom or slavery."
"Everyone gathered here is my enemy. Do what you will." She had spared the last village, but the men needed spoils and the most valuable spoils would be the ships at dock and the people who crewed them. She could not deny them rewards for risking their lives.
Runa jogged at the front of the group as Konal and Kell lead a swift jaunt toward the defenders. Her thoughts were clear, much to her surprise, though her heart raced and her legs weakened. The heavy shield on her arm covered more of her than a normal man, and her wolf pelt would be proof against most blades. Only her head was exposed, since she had discovered wearing a helmet restricted her vision.
They slowed their approach as they closed on the unflinching line of defenders. A wry smile came to Runa's lips when she realized she could not identify Skard. For a man who had terrorized her home for years, his face remained unknown.
"Looks like maybe twenty-five to thirty spearmen." Konal offered his estimate as they halted. The defenders were like a flock of geese in an open field. "Almost three of ours to one on them."
Kell grunted and ordered both wings of their loose formation to break off the flanks and begin encircling Skard's troops. A ripple of spears and gleams of helmets turning to monitor the attackers were all the reactions from the defenders. They remained unmoved.
"If you want to let them know who you are, do it now." Konal prodded Runa with the side of his shield, then pointed with his chin to the front of the line. "You'll be safe. They're not set up for archers and no one can hide in a field like this."
At last her enemies were gathered into a cluster to be smashed. She had never expected to be the one to do it, standing on the ground where Ulfrik should have stood. She drew her breath, then stepped forward from the line, watching Konal's men complete their envelopment. These were men who knew their deaths had come.
"Skard, you maggot! Nye Grenner has come to burn you out of your holes and lay open your bones. Your war with us has led you all to this doom. What do you say to this?"
Laughter erupted from the surrounded men, and Runa's heart chilled. A half dozen turned and revealed their backsides while others shouted curses. One figure detached from the mass of gray mail and round wood shields. He was indistinguishable from the others beyond the red and white paint on his shield. Those had been Hardar's colors, and identified him as Skard.
"Nye Grenner's bitch has come? Are you a gift to us, that we can each take a turn with you?"
"Surrender now, and your men will have mercy from me."
"My men would rather have you ride them." More laughter flowed, as if the ring of armed invaders around them were only a fanciful dream.
"You had your chance." Skard grabbed his crotch and Runa turned in disgust. Konal's smile showed behind the cheek plates of his helmet.
"Not the reaction you had imagined, I guess. Can we kill these fools and be done?"
Falling in with him, drawing her shield up and sliding her sword from its sheath, she spoke through clenched teeth. "Let's dance in their blood."
Konal and Kell bellowed across the short expanse. All levity from Skard's men vanished, and they roared back. Then the charge launched.
The men behind Runa shoved her forward, one of their shields pushing into her back. Galvanized, she sprinted with speed that astonished her. She felt outside of herself, as if watching another woman running in a pack of wild men. Her face was twisted into an ugly snarl, mimicking the wolf whose pelt wrapped her body. Curly hair flowed over her shoulders and her body bounced and snapped as it pounded toward the wall of shields and lowered spears.
She snapped back into herself.
The collision sounded like a village of houses collapsing at once. Her shield slammed into an enemy's, bouncing her back into her own man, who in turn rammed her forward again. All her training had not prepared her this, feeling like a child's doll flopping between the two shields. Konal had warned her of it, but she had discounted it as an attempt to dissuade her.
Completely pinned, she could only let momentum carry her forward as men grunted, screamed, and cursed. The smell of stale beer and coppery blood bloomed in her nose. The air was hot and foul at the center of the press. A frightful snap of pain in her back flashed white across her vision.
Then she stumbled into the cool, fresh air, tripping over a man lying on his back.
A hand seized her leg, and she slashed it with her sword. Release and warm blood poured over her leg. Kicking to her feet, the man below had lost three fingers to her strike. She drove her sword into his neck, and he flailed in his death throes.
Freed, she assessed the result of the charge. They had flowed through the line, trampling Skard's pitiful resistance. No organized defense remained, only men fighting in scattered clusters.