The Kur, backing away, with its right arm, reaching across its body, tore up one of the tent poles, wrenching it free of the earth, the tent. The tent sagged near him. He snarled. He thrust out with the tent pole, using the spike at its top like a spear. Then he swung the pole, striking at me. I waited. It was weak from the loss of blood. It turned about again and fled to the opposite wall of the tent. It tried to tear the siIk, and it was at the wall of the tent that I caught it. I lifted my ax from the body, and turned to face the women. I strode to them. They knelt, huddled together, holding one another, at the side of the tent. They put down their eyes, trembling. I left the tent.
“Where is Thorgard of Scagnar?” asked Ivar Forkbeard. His shirt was half torn away. There was Kur blood on his chest and against the side of his face.
“I do not know,” I told him.
Behind Ivar Forkbeard, naked, wearing his collar, I saw Hilda, Thorgard’s daughter.
“There is a rallying of Kurii by the verr pens!” cried a man.
Quickly Ivar and myself hurried to the verr pens.
The rally was ill fated. Spears fell among the determined Kurii. Several fell in the mud and filth of the verr pens themselves, the bleating animals, frightened, darting about, leaping over the bodies.
Near the verr pens we found chained male slaves, picked up by Kurii on foraging expeditions, and used as porters. There were more than three hundred such wretches.
Svein Blue Tooth was at the pens, leading the attack that had broken the rally. The rally had been led by the Kur who had been foremost in the attack on his hall. This Kur, it seemed, had disappeared, scattering with the others. The Blue Tooth stepped over the body of a fallen Kur. He gestured to the chained male slaves. “Free them,” he said, “and give them weapons. There is yet work to do.” Eagerlythe slaves, when theirmanacles had been struck away, picked up weapons and sought Kurii.
“Do not permit Kurii to escape to the south,” said Svein Blue Tooth to Ketil, keeper of his high farm, who had been famed as a wrestler.
“The bosk herd blocks their escape in numbers,” said Ketil. “Some have even been trampled.”
“We have been tricked!” cried a man. “Across the camp is the true rally, hundreds of Kurii! All falls before them! This was a ruse to draw men here, permitting Kurii to regroup in numbers elsewhere!”
My heart leaped.
No wonder the commander of the Kurii had left his forces here, disappearing. I wondered if they knew his real intent had been elsewhere. I admired him. He was a true general, a most dangerous and lethal foe, unscrupulous, brilliant.
“It seems,” grinned Ivar Forkbeard, “we have a worthy adversary.”
“The battle turns against us!” cried a man.
“They must be held!” said Ivar Forkbeard. We heard the howling of Kurii, from almost a pasang away, on the other side of the camp. Drifting to us, too, were the cries of men. “Let us join the fray, Tarl Red Hair,” invited the Forkbeard.
Fleeing men rushed past us. The Forkbeard struck one, felling him.
“To the battle,” said he. The man turned, and, taking his weapon, fled back to the fighting. “To the battle!” cried the Forkbeard. “To the battle!”
“They cannot be held!” cried a man. “They will sweep the camp!”
“To the battle!” cried the Forkbeard.
We ran madly toward the fighting.
There, already lifted, we saw the signal spear of Svein Blue Tooth. About it swept Kurii. It was like a flag on an island. At its foot stood the mighty Rollo, striking to the left and right with his ax. No Kur who approached the signal spear did not die. Hundreds of men, in ragged, scattered lines, strung out laterally, accompanied us. Kwrii, overextended, meeting this new resistance, to piercing howls, fell back, to regroup for another charge.
“Form lines!” cried Svein Blue Tooth. “Form lines!” The Blue Tooth, their Jarl, was with them! Men fought to take their place, under his eyes, in the first line.
The Blue Tooth himself now stood with Rollo, his own hand on the signal spear.
We saw the overlapping shields of the Kurii line, the axes. There must have been better than two thousand Kurii formed.
Then, to our surprise, from within the Kurii lines we saw two or three hundred slave girls whipped forth. They were bound together in fours and fives. Some were bound together by the wrists, others by the ankles, some by the waist, many by the throat. They were cattle, caught and tethered in the camp, in the confusion, by Kurii. They were to be used to break our lines. I saw Ael~ gifu, Pudding, among them. Her wrists were pulled out from the side of her body, bound to the wrist of a girl on either side, as they themselves were fastened. We heard the cracking of whips, and the cries of pain. Faster and faster ran the girls toward us, fleeing the whips. Behind them, rapidly, the Kurii advanced.
“Charge!” cried the Svein Blue Tooth. The lines of men, too, hurtled forward.
Not ten yards before the clash took place, Svein Blue Tooth and his lieutenants before the running line, as the girls, under the whips of Kurii, fled, terrified, seeing the axes, the leveled weapons, toward them, made a sign no bond-maid of the north mistakes, the belly sign. Almost as one the girls, crying out, flung themselves to their bellies among the bodies and the charge of the men of Torvaldsland, missing not a step, took its way over them, striking the startled Kurii with an unimpeded impact. I cut down one of the Kurii with its whip. “When the whip is put to the back of slaves,” I told it, “it is we who shall do so.” There was, instantly, fierce fighting, in and among, and over, the bodies of the tethered bond-maids. Those who could covered their heads with their hands. Bodies, human and Kur, fell bloodied to the grass. Bond-maids, half crushed, some with broken bones, screamed. They struggled, some to rise, but, tethered, few could do so. Most lay prone, trembling, as the feet shifted about them, weapons clashing over their heads. The Kurii, some seventeen or eighteen hundred of them, fell back.
“Cut the wenches free,” ordered Svein Blue Tooth. Blades swiftly freed the prone, hysterical bond-maids. Many were covered with blood. Svein Blue Tooth, and others, by the hair, hurled bond-wenches to their feet. “Get to the pen!” he cried. They stumbled away, hurrying to the pen. “Help her!” ordered the Blue Tooth to two frightened girls. They bent to lift and support one of their sisters in bondage, whose leg was broken, binding fiber still knotted about the ankle. “Tarl Red Hair!” wept Gunnhild. My blade flashed at her throat, cutting the tether that bound her, on either side, to two other girls. “Get to the pen,” I told her. “Yes, my Jarl!” she cried, running toward the pen. The girls, those who could, fled the field, to return to the pen in which the Kurii had originally confined them. Those who could not walk were, under the orders of-men, by other bond-maids, carried or aided to the pen. I saw Pretty Ankles put out her hand to Ivar Forkbeard. Severed binding fiber was knotted tight about her belly. “To the pen,” commanded the Forkbeard. Weeping, she hurried to the pen.
“They charge!” cried a man.
With a great howling, again Kurll ran toward us. Our lines buckled but, again, afterminutes of terrible fighting, they fell back.
On one side of me fought the mighty Rollo, his lips foaming, his eyes wild, on the other side he who called himself Hrolf, from the East, the bearded giant with bloodied spear. Well did he acquit himself. Then others stood with me. Rollo went to the signal spear. He who spoke of himself as Hrolf disappeared.
Twice more were there charges, once by Kurii, once by men. We were thrown back from the shield wall with devastating losses. Had it not been for the force of Svein Blue Tooth, the power of his voice, the mightiness of his presence, Kurii might then have taken the initiative. “Form lines!” he cried. “Regroup! Spears to the second line!” A hedge of spears, projecting from the lines of men, men with axes between them, waited for Kurii, should they try to press their advantage.