"And if he's not?" asked a gray-bearded veteran, his face sharing the same scowls of all the other leaders.
"Then we keep moving west."
"We shouldn't flee. We're not women; we're warriors. We fight no matter the odds!" The veteran and the others agreed, snarling and glaring at the edge of the woods where Franks awaited.
"Fight where victory has a chance. We're outnumbered by their forward patrols, let alone their main army. You've all seen the iron slithering down that hill. Unless it's a ruse, the emperor's army is upon us."
Men flushed in anger, cursed, and growled, but they resumed their march. A detachment of scouts traveled the flanks as the main column laced through the woods as fast as the uneven ground allowed. They stumbled and tripped, but stifled their curses and kept as much silence as an army in mail armor could achieve. Birds scattered ahead of them, betraying their direction but proving no enemies hid along their path.
Scouts from their left flank soon returned with wide eyes and pale faces. "More Franks! They're encircling us."
Ulfrik did not stop, but cursed. "They're funneling us to the ground they have chosen for battle. Curse them to a dog's death. How did they encircle us unnoticed?"
No one replied, as the answer shamed them all. The Franks had been enveloping them while they had grown idle over the long summer of inaction. Had Ulfrik not spotted the movements of the main force, they might have been swallowed like a snake devouring a rat.
Forward scouts returned with better news. Hrolf and his army had formed a shield wall in the field where Ulfrik predicted he would be. The Franks' hesitation to attack Hrolf would give Ulfrik a chance to combine their forces. He redoubled the march, and soon emerged at the edge of the field.
Hrolf's forces were a black clump of glinting mail in a wide field of brown and green grass. Gray trees ringed the clearing, and birds exploded randomly from the red and gold leaves. The Franks were encircling them. The men were unworried, raised their spears and shouted in celebration. Some of Ulfrik's own began to charge from the woods.
"Get your men in line!" Ulfrik commanded. "It could be a trap! Archers in the woods! Quickly, get them back here."
The reasonable leaders immediately grasped the danger and reined in their men. Many still did not heed warnings, impetuously dashing for Hrolf's lines. They arrived without incident, and Ulfrik sighed his relief.
"We have those fools to thank for testing the way. Still, I want shields up all around in case the Franks are smart. They might be waiting for our main body to step into their sight. Careful, we go now."
Under shields, the bulk of the men jogged out of the woods to link with Hrolf and his men. The Franks never fired a shot, if they even had position to do so. Despite the relief, Ulfrik doubted the poor tactical sense the Franks displayed. Would they actually surrender their advantages so easily? Did a greater trap await them?
"Glad you could reach us. Now that you're here, I am assured victory. Stand with me!" Hrolf stood erect at the dead center of his block of warriors. His helmet and mail were no longer gleaming, but stained and dull from weeks on raid. His face creased in a smile behind his cheek plates as Ulfrik arrived before him, with Mord bearing his standard at his left and Einar towering at his right side, where Snorri would have stood in days past.
"There are hundreds of Franks in the woods," he indicated the two points his scouts had located. "So far as I can tell, they're herding us like sheep. Why they did not keep us separated and cut us down is a mystery."
Hrolf laughed, a gusty and careless laugh that infected the men around him. "Franks build strong walls, but that's it. For all the fame of their weapons, they truly don't know how to use them. This King Charles, as I hear it, is a fool. I wonder if the Franks will even ransom him after we capture that bastard today."
"So you know it's the king?"
"We nabbed a few scouts and cut that information out of them. We're surrounded, and I believe they are leading cavalry to us. Good for us, since the horses are bigger targets than men. Easy shooting."
Ulfrik examined Hrolf's face, a placid smile fixed upon it as he scanned the trees. He searched for any sign of fear, a quivering lip, jittering eyelid, a tic of a cheek. Hrolf was as at ease, every line of his body defining confidence in his victory. For his own part, Ulfrik doubted the logic of waiting in an open field for archers and cavalry to destroy them.
"Mord, you stand with me. Einar, line the best warriors with us and the rest integrate with the others."
The new arrivals ordered themselves and waited. Hundreds of men stood in near silence, defiant and bold. Ulfrik took heart from the massive block of fighting strength at his back. Ahead, he watched the Franks flit between trees as if they searched for positions in an elaborate dance. After standing long enough for feet to grow sore, Gunther One-Eye stretched in an exaggerated yawn then shouted. "Anyone who needs sleep can get it now. The Franks need more time to learn which end of the spear to point at us."
Laughter rippled through the front ranks. Ulfrik smiled at his friend down the line, who winked at him.
Ulfrik began to reply when the line tightened and Hrolf drew himself to his full height. Whirling about, he saw the Franks emerging from woods.
"Gods," Toki whispered. "We're doomed."
Rank after rank of soldiers flowed from the trees, encircling them in the field. The morning sun filled their grim faces with black shadow, rendering them in stern contrast to the gray trees behind. Spears parked at their shoulders, men raised their long tear-drop shaped shields, creating a shield wall more massive than any Ulfrik had ever seen. Lightly armored archers formed behind them and placed shafts across their bowstrings.
"Our glory will outshine any who've gone before us." Hrolf shielded his eyes against the eastern sun as he surveyed the serried ranks. "Odin will raise us above all his heroes, for surely none will have faced what we face today."
Ulfrik swallowed, glanced at Mord who had stifled his doubts and straightened his back. At last the Franks halted, and a horn sounded a long note as horses were led through the trees. Their riders had dismounted and guided the beasts, but now climbed onto their backs. Only one man rode, his strong white horse guided by two men. The massive rider was clad in sparkling mail, a conical helmet topped with a crown sitting crooked on his round head.
"Charles the Fat," Ulfrik said. "The Holy Roman Emperor comes to offer us his blood today. Lord Hrolf, it will be an honor to place his head at your feet."
He offered the words as encouragement to the men around him, and they rewarded him with boasts of their own. Soon, Hrolf had a dozen men clamoring to kill Charles and far more began to growl and curse at the surrounding Franks.
"We are the greatest heroes of all the ages," Hrolf shouted to his men. "No one will be prouder than me to feast with you in Valhalla. The Valkyries will bear us from this field, singing with joy for the death we will bring the Franks. For glorious battle!"
The men shouted and raised their weapons. The Franks responded with a ripple that traveled the ring like mead threatening to overflow a mug. Ulfrik raised his weapon and joined his companions, meeting Mord's eyes as he raised their standard alongside Hrolf's. "Our battles continue until the end of days, Ragnarok! We will fight together as brothers in Valhalla!"
Mord redoubled his roar, bucking Ulfrik with his shield in acknowledgment. Men began to pound weapons on shields and stamp their feet.
Ulfrik's father had been known as the Bellower, and the power of his shout had come through his blood to Ulfrik. His war shout defeated all those around him, drawing gleeful encouragement from Hrolf. A strong war shout can stop a man as good as a shield wall, Ulfrik recalled his father's wisdom. Never had the advice felt more appropriate.