24.
24.
The warriors of Northumbria burned with relentless fighting spirit.
Odin himself would have praised their will to fight.
But when had this world ever run on spirit alone?
It was the way of nature—when you met greater weight and stronger force, you broke, you shattered. Having already kicked away the fifth ladder, I looked at Ælla's ceaselessly pressing minions and shouted.
"Leave this ladder be! If they wish to die, I will gladly provide them a place to do so!"
Already the dead and wounded Angles lay strewn across the top of the wall.
The gray-white stone had by now taken on a deep crimson hue, dazzling the minds of those who beheld it. Driving them ever more violent, ever more brutal. To preserve their own lives, to stoke the madness of the battlefield ever higher.
Amidst those who were steadily losing their reason, my shouts became a lighthouse to them, a path they had to follow.
"Leave this ladder be! Let us kill every last one who climbs up!"
"Spears! Bring longer spears!"
"Archers, keep shooting! Keep shooting until they fall silent!"
But if there were those drenched unreservedly in the uncontrollable frenzy, there were also those who acted with such cold rationality that it chilled the air.
My longtime retainer, Hrolf, did not waver in the slightest amidst the blood-drenched brutality.
"Jarl Helgi! The enemy's attack is concentrating near the gate!"
Hrolf, who had somehow managed to seize my shoulder as I dashed about like a boar with its tail on fire, pointed with long, solid fingers toward the center of the wall where Björn was stationed—near the gate.
'Ælla, you've really made up your mind. You're coming at us ready to scale this wall today.'
I had thought him a clever fox at first, but perhaps he was an enraged rhinoceros after all. The Northumbrian warriors were crawling up the wall like madmen as if there were no tomorrow, pushing the battering ram forward.
Ubba, who held the far end of the left wall from where I stood, was fending off the enemy with relative ease, as the area drew less of their attention.
Where I stood, the enemy's assault had rather stalled. I had kicked away every one of the countless ladders and left only one standing, so no matter how capable the enemy commander, there was little he could do.
However, as the section of the wall I held grew somewhat quiet, the enemy troops that should have poured into this weak point instead massed toward the center.
'Oh, no...'
I glanced down over the wall to confirm it. Just as Hrolf had said, at the center of the wall, before the gate, the Northumbrian warriors were packed together as if in a bottleneck—climbing up the intact ladders or forming a shield wall as they waited for the battering ram that seemed about to reach the gate.
"Hrolf! I leave this to you! I must go to the center!"
"Understood! Jarl Helgi!"
With only one ladder left, we would be able to fend off the enemy without much trouble.
With seasoned Hrolf's ability, even if Ubba next to him fell into danger, he would be able to support him smoothly. Now I had to sweep it all clean, starting from the center and moving to the Örn-side wall that Ivar, Halfdan, and Sigurdr were holding.
"Stórolf! Follow me!"
"Aye! My Jarl!"
The flag of Goddess Hel that the warriors of Árós had brought. Stórolf, who had taken a great liking to that flag and insisted on bearing it himself, held the banner in one hand and a sword in the other as he ran behind me as I swept past.
"Move! Out of the way!"
Just like the Northumbrians below the wall, the Northmen and citizens of Eoforwīc atop the wall were also caught in a bottleneck from the frantic fighting. My situation was urgent, so as I ran, shouting at those blocking the way, I saw before me a cluster of Northumbrians huddled in a tight circle, holding a corner of the wall.
"Hel—!"
No need for words.
Carrying the momentum of my sprint, my body slipped between the enemy's thrusting spears and crashed into their solid shield wall.
[Kwaang—! Ujikkeun!]
"Aaaagh!"
Some were hurled off the wall. Some struck the stone at the wrong angle and broke their necks. The rest, various fractures of arms and legs.
Having wrought a gruesome scene with a single body slam, I cut down in one stroke the Northumbrian warriors who were too stunned by the sudden, immense impact to regain their senses.
[Huung— Shwaak!]
"Aagh!"
"Gak!"
Still, those who died under my axe blade likely felt little pain—their breath would have been cut off in an instant.
"By Odin, good heavens..."
"Lord..."
I had no time to respond to every low murmur of awe and wonder from the warriors around me. I hurriedly pushed down with my own hands the ladder the Northumbrians had been guarding with their lives, and moved toward my next target.
*****
At the same time.
Halfdan "Hvitserk" Ragnarsson could not gather his wits.
"We must drive them out! Keep pushing!"
"Yaaaaah—!"
"By Tyr!"
From the moment he had first gripped a sword until now, battle had never once been easy, but a fight like this was truly the first of his life.
The space atop this wall was too narrow, and the enemy too numerous. No matter how seasoned and skilled a warrior, when it turned into a primitive shoving match of mass against mass, you ended up exhausted.
In other words, it became a contest of physique rather than technique.
'This, if I'm not careful, it looks like I'll be dining in Valhalla tonight.'
A life lived as a Jarl of the Danes. How could he fear death? It was only a shame that he would not get to see his father's sworn enemy die in agony.
'Still, I have no regrets. My brother will surely avenge Father and me.'
Björn, solid as steel? Ivar, who dodged the blade falling toward his head with a mere turn of his neck? Or else his two younger brothers, Sigurdr and Ubba, still a bit clumsy?
No, Helgi would do it.
If you had two eyes, you would know at once that his half-brother was no ordinary man.
A battle that had already dragged on until the sun was setting.
He had been strong and tenacious enough to finish his first battle without a single wound, so much so that people even called him "White-Shirt"... yet now Halfdan could feel the strength slowly draining from his arms.
But he could not show weakness.
"Come at me, Angles! I am Halfdan!"
"Die!"
He parried the axe of a warrior who clung to him like a demon with his shield, and thrust his sword into the man's belly.
[Ting!]
Blocked by a shield, but this was a short thrust meant to draw out the enemy's shield. As expected, the enemy raised his axe and brought it down once more, and in that instant, Halfdan's swiftly recovered blade slashed downward at an angle, severing the wrist of the hand that held the axe.
[Sseokeok!]
"Aaaargh!"
[Pook!]
"Gurgh—!"
Halfdan pierced the howling warrior's throat in one breath, killing him instantly, then pulled his sword free and raised it again.
But in that brief moment—so fleeting it could hardly even be called a lapse of attention—a sharp blade thrust in from a blind angle Halfdan had been unable to perceive.
'Damn.'
The entire world around him slowed.
Just as the blade slowly drove toward his flank and Halfdan instinctively braced for the end, a hand axe carved with the name of [Hel] tore through the frozen world, hurtling fiercely right before his eyes.
[Hwirik— hwirik— hwirik— puk!]
"Keok!"
'That should have been a sword thrusting in.'
Such was the force behind the hand axe. The charging warrior's body toppled straight backward, and the world recovered its original flow of time.
[Teolsseok!]
"Halfdan."
Beneath the reddening sun, the man who cast a pitch-black shadow that seemed ready to devour the entire rampart was Helgi Ragnarsson—his own half-brother.
"...That one was mine, Helgi."
"Like hell."
Behind him, though smaller in bulk than Helgi, a warrior no less bear-like unfurled the sacred flag of Hel, sewn by Mother Asta herself, and Helgi, who had taken his place before it, drew everything around him into himself the moment his two feet entered this space.
Soon enough, as though the fierce clash of warriors were mere child's play—Helgi strode into the thick of it and slaughtered the shield-bearing foes who blocked his way.
Then, without the slightest difficulty, he pushed over a ladder that took several men to lift, heavier than two aurochs.
[Kki-i-i-ik— kwajik!]
"Aaaargh—!"
"I'll leave one ladder, Halfdan."
To him, standing there staring blankly, Helgi spoke in a voice so tranquil it might have been a picnic outing.
"Need to thin their numbers a bit. Where's Björn? Didn't see him on the way."
"Ah— Björn headed for the main gate. Their battering ram looked sturdier than expected."
"I see. First, I'll sweep the walls clean. See you shortly, brother."
"Aye, let's do that, Helgi."
"Let's go, Stórolf!"
"Yes! Jarl Helgi!"
And with that, Helgi strode off once more to thrash the Northumbrians. As Halfdan watched his receding figure, an unfamiliar feeling grew within his chest.
It was wonder.
'Odin, Father. It seems today is not the day I leave.'
Sensing the fading drumbeat of Valhalla, Halfdan seized his sword and shield once more. Victory was not somewhere far away.
It was beneath Helgi's feet.
*****
Fortunately, the main gate did not break.
Preventative measures had been prepared beforehand by bracing several wooden beams diagonally across it, and the main gate itself was so thick. Surely, they hadn't expected to open this gate in a single day anyway.
Even so, the fighting had been so fierce. The numbers of dead and wounded were far higher than expected.
Because of this, the hospital ward set up in the city center had to be expanded, and the rear area across the river had to work late into the night to procure arrows and stones for throwing.
"The Northumbrian bastards won't be able to keep up this kind of attack forever."
Ivar scratched his chin, a long gash now marring his left cheek where an arrow had grazed him. His fighting style had always been too reckless. No matter how many times I told him, he wouldn't change his ways—a subject of grave concern.
"For every one of our warriors who falls, at least five of theirs must have fallen."
Sigurd, his usual lighthearted mood gone, his eerie eyes turned even more ominous, spoke in a cold voice.
"Two days at most, maybe three. After that, they'll be so shattered even Ælla and Osberht would have to climb the walls themselves."
Like Sigurd, some of his model-student look now gone, Ubba chimed in with a venomous face in agreement.
I'd heard Hrolf had helped him out at a crucial moment so he'd overcome the enemy without great difficulty, but the patches of dried blood smeared here and there told of fierce combat.
"My thoughts are the same as Ubba's. These are attacks we can endure."
Amid the Ragnarsson brothers whose blood still boiled hot with the mingled residue of fierce battle and drink, Björn's voice rang low and composed.
"But their numbers are great. They can assault us night and day."
"Damn. I hate this kind of fighting."
The more troops you could field, the better. Because you could seize the initiative on the battlefield.
Thus, the current war situation could be summed up as the Northumbrians, who held the initiative to choose the moment of attack, versus the Northmen-Eoforwīc alliance, who held the advantage of terrain.
The brothers, Ivar included, had tasted blood and now forcibly suppressed their ragged breathing, already sick of a defensive battle that felt like sinking into a bog. But there was no other way. We had no choice but to endure.
"So we, too, will split into two squads. By day, I, Ivar, and Ubba will take command together; by evening, Helgi, Halfdan, and Sigurd will lead."
'So the old men take the day shift, and we who are fresh take the night, huh?'
How could I overcome the crime of not being born earlier? Someone had to do it anyway, so I had no choice but to agree...
I thought that would be the end of it, but Björn's plan wasn't finished there.
"If I were Ælla, I'd want to keep pressing nonstop. But the earls beneath him will have complicated thoughts. When their momentum breaks and their guard slackens, I intend to jab at them once—"
Björn's low voice gradually heated up, and his previously lowered gaze slowly rose to meet my face. As all the brothers' eyes gathered upon me, Björn asked, and I answered.
"Can you do it? Helgi."
"Of course."
There was no hesitation whatsoever.