26.
26.
The night raid had been a resounding success.
Under the ferocious assault of the Norsemen and the warriors of Eoforwīc, Ælla and Osberht of Northumbria had been forced to pull their camp back by a good thirty meters or more.
And as a result, we finally resolved to march out from the walls and settle matters with the enemy. On a quiet plain, flanked by forest on the left and marshland on the right, no less.
Provided, of course, they chose to meet us there.
"Every battle you fight will inspire countless bards, Helgi! Even the warriors of Valhalla must envy your feats!"
The damage the Northumbrians had suffered in the battle, which raged until the next day's dawn, was immense.
Although we too had hurried out of the fortress to form up, leaving no time to clear the field, even now a brief glance back showed countless bodies still lying on that predawn battleground.
And most of those fallen were Northumbrian warriors.
'The birds would feast well.'
The thought of tidying all that up once this was over already exhausted me, but for now it was still time to fight. I did not hesitate to speak bluntly to Sigurdeu, who looked utterly elated.
"Sigurdeu, thank you, but the battle isn't over yet. There's still work to be done, isn't there?"
"Oh—right. Right you are, my wise brother."
As if his smiling face had been a lie, Sigurdeu's expression hardened in an instant and he glared at the army beyond. Then Björn and Ivar, having finished their patrol of the camp, entered his field of vision.
"Helgi drove the enemy back in a great blow, but they still have numbers."
"Still, isn't the fight worth taking now? Those Strathclyde warriors among them will have to leave soon. A messenger arrived from Olaf two days ago. He's going to strike their homeland before long."
"Olaf? That's good news."
Björn and Ivar were the calmest among us, as befitted brothers who had already fought many fierce battles.
In fact, Ivar seemed to be enjoying the situation outright. Hearing that Olaf would attack the enemy's rear, Björn too revealed a rare smile.
"Good. Set a watch and let the warriors rest well. I look forward to seeing how Ælla and Osberht will move."
Now that we had pulled one fang from our prey, it was time to see its next move.
*****
866 AD. A summer day. The isle of Britain, Northumbria.
To be honest, I wasn't tired at all, but because my brothers and Hrolf insisted so strongly, I stepped into the tent set aside for me, threw a cloth down, and lay upon it.
The evacuation of the wounded was being handled by the reserves from the city, and watching supplies steadily pile up in the camp as they came from across the river, I decided there was no more cause for worry and was savoring a rare moment of leisure.
Then I sensed someone lurking outside the tent.
'What is it, Sigurdeu? Ubba?'
Wondering if these brothers of mine were up to some mischief again, bothering my tent just as I was resting well, I went out to see—and a face both familiar and strange greeted me with a flustered expression.
"Ah, Jarl Helgi! It's an honor! I..."
"Refil. How could I not know you?"
Refil Bjornson.
Björn's second son. By bloodline, I was his uncle, but he was actually a year older than me. (I was still eighteen.)
Resembling Björn, his immensely robust body showed clear signs that he never neglected his training.
Bright blond hair and green eyes. The shape of his eyes, perhaps from his mother, was subtly different from Björn's, but aside from that, he was a warrior who looked as if Björn had been put into a press and stamped out.
If I had to classify him, I'd place him among the super rookies like Seutorolpeu in my command. Though, of course, his birth status was quite different.
Anyway, what in the world did this prince want?
"What is it? Has Ælla made a move?"
"No, my Jarl. Ælla and Osberht didn't move personally, but they sent a man."
"A man?"
"Yes. A man waving a white flag. They want to negotiate, so my father— I mean, Jarl Björn sent me to bring you, Jarl Helgi."
"I see."
"Let's go at once. Just wait a moment."
"Understood!"
Perhaps from growing up watching Björn, looking at Refil gave me the uncanny feeling of watching a rigid steel automaton—a prototype whose software hadn't been smoothly installed yet.
Leaving Refil standing rigid outside the tent, I tidied the spot where I'd briefly shut my eyes and slowly donned my armor and arms.
I tied my shoelaces twice more so they wouldn't come loose, checked the thin belt that cinched my undertunic, threw on the mail armor made of countless rings of good iron riveted together, and donned a woolen cloak.
Over the armor, I buckled another large belt, tucked a hand axe at my side near Örn, and adjusted the belt this way and that to keep comfortable.
Once this whole process of layering multiple strata was complete, I slung my shield across my back, attached my sword and scabbard to my belt, then took up the great two-handed axe that stood by the entrance and stepped outside.
'The weather was stifling, absolutely stifling.'
Even in these high latitudes, summer was still summer; the merciless gaze of the sun beat down too hotly.
But what could I do? A little heat was better than catching a stray blade or an arrow on bare flesh. Bundling up like this was the right thing to do.
"Let's go, Refil."
"Yep!"
Refil was respectful to all my brothers, but with me the degree seemed especially pronounced. Well, come to think of it, it wasn't only Refil.
To be precise, I should say everyone except my brothers and my two mothers found me intimidating.
I largely knew the reason... but still, I couldn't deny it felt a little lonely at times.
I'd guessed as much from the moment I was born a king's son, but I could never experience the friendships of peers—doing stupid things together and getting scolded by our parents—such little things.
As someone who'd had no true friends even in my past life, I could only lament it.
"We've arrived. I'll see you later, then, Refil."
"Yes, yes! Jarl Helgi! Understood!"
The curt Refil hesitated; he looked like he had something to say to me but couldn't bring himself to speak. So I stopped myself from entering the tent and asked him outright.
"What is it? Is something the matter?"
"No. It's nothing urgent... May I speak with you privately later?"
A rare look of embarrassment flickered across Refil's face.
"Hm— alright. We'll talk later."
"Yep! Understood!"
Yes, the urgent matter at hand wasn't Refil's unspoken secret.
I let out a sigh of relief and, leaving the nodding Refil behind, strode briskly into the large tent that was open on all sides.
It was an exceedingly practical tent, with no carpets laid down or anything of the sort, yet the keen eyes of the Huskarls guarding every direction without a single gap created an odd sense of pressure. Anyone unauthorized who dared step inside would meet an axe immediately.
Beyond that grim cordon, I saw Björn seated upon a chair draped with the furs of various beasts, with our brothers standing around him. Every one of them signaled to me with their eyes. Across from them stood a man who appeared to be the envoy sent by Ælla.
"You've come, Helgi. And with perfect timing, at that. This is Earl Uhtred— the man who brought Ælla's proposal. Uhtred, this is my brother, Helgi Ragnarsson."
When he spat out the word 'proposal' from Ælla, Björn's eyes twitched for a moment. Then he extended his arm and pointed at Uhtred of Northumbria.
Dark brown, nearly black, with blue eyes. There was wisdom shining in those eyes beneath the long hair characteristic of the Angles. His face seemed familiar, and for good reason— this was the Northumbrian commander who had attacked the section of wall I had been holding.
"It is an honor to meet you thus, Jarl Helgi."
His slight bow was neither obsequious nor insulting.
"Well met, Earl Uhtred."
I inclined my head slightly in return.
A warrior who fought well deserved to be treated with respect. Moreover, though it may have been at his king's command, was this not a man who had come to a place where he could easily lose his life? Courage was our virtue.
"Well, introductions seem sufficient at this point. Will you now tell us what message Ælla has sent, Uhtred?"
But the formal atmosphere lasted only a moment. At Björn's words, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, the mood within the tent sank heavily.
"Of course, Jarl Björn. Then, I shall relay the words that the Cyning of Northumbria bade me deliver."
Without any sign of discomposure, Uhtred maintained as calm an expression as possible as he looked steadily at Björn and the brothers gathered around him and spoke.
"The Cyning wishes for the fighting to cease. In exchange, five wagonloads of—"
"Rubbish."
Regrettably, Uhtred's level voice was soon cut short. For Björn, his eyes looking as though sparks were kindling within them, interrupted him in a low tone.
"Ælla. Trying his hand at a pathetic little scheme."
Utterly contrary to his usual demeanor, Björn leaned forward, casting shadows over his face, and delivered words thick with scorn as if thrusting a blade.
"I know why you have come here, Uhtred of Northumbria. I will not hear a single word of ending this war, so you are to observe everything here and report it to Ælla exactly as you saw it."
Only then did cracks appear in Uhtred's composed expression. This brave Angle's eyes were wavering.
"We can wait here as long as necessary, but how much time does Ælla have left? If he drags this out any longer, he will lose even the place to which he might return."
Expressionless though his face remained, Björn's voice as he continued to speak words that shook Uhtred's heart and mind sounded more pleased than ever before.
"Go and tell your Cyning. Tell him not to hide like a coward, but to face his fate."
With those final words, a long silence followed. Uhtred nodded with difficulty.
"... Understood. Jarl Björn."
"Good. Escort this brave man outside the camp."
"Aye! Jarl Björn!"
There was no strength in Uhtred's steps as he made his way out, guided by the Huskarls.
"Just as Ivar's intelligence indicated, it seems Olaf struck Strathclyde. Reports keep coming in that a block of warriors has broken away from the enemy ranks. Ælla has grown desperate."
"What if it's a trap?"
Ubba, always striving to remain level-headed, raised the possibility, but Björn was largely unconcerned.
"It doesn't matter. If that is the case, then they truly will lose their rear. We need only fall back for a time, and that's it."
Watching us brothers nod in unison, Björn delivered the final word.
"It is battle. Brothers. Feed the warriors their fill and let us prepare for a great fight. Soon, the ravens shall feast."
*****
Ælla could not flee. Neither could Osberht.
They had too much to lose, and they realized now that if they did not shatter us here, they would find themselves in an even more difficult situation. The Strathclyde warriors had withdrawn, and several faithless earls had fled in the night, yet the Northumbrian host still possessed enough strength to contend with us.
In sheer numbers, that is.
In my view, battle was a matter of rolling the dice, leaning on uncertainty. It would be splendid if every face of the dice showed six, but we all knew that was not how it worked.
I fully intended to win today, and I wanted to finish Ælla and Osberht completely.
If we let them slip away here, how many more years would we have to waste? As Ælla and Osberht had so kindly demonstrated to us, attacking a tall and well-defended fortress was no undertaking for the sane of mind.
So I would end it here, without fail.
I would shatter the dice and paint the number six directly with the blood of the enemy.
A broad expanse where both sides could fully face each other.
The long-stretched ranks of the Norsemen, and at their center, the warriors of Árós.
I stood at the head of my warriors and calmly surveyed the enemy's long-drawn formation. It was certainly thicker and longer than ours. But it was not an insurmountable number— not by any means.
"Jarl Helgi, preparations are complete."
"Good. Then let us begin, Hrolf."
"Understood, my Jarl."
At Hrolf's signal, the horns that commanded the advance let out a thunderous cry, and as every beast in the woods beyond held its breath and watched this space alone, the men of both camps finally closed the ground that lay between them.
[Bwoooong- Bwoooo-]
'Hel, give me strength.'
In the face of uncertainty, I too found myself seeking the gods after all. Yet even if it was for this reason, I had to muster my courage.
I had to have faith.
Believe in yourself, Helgi Ragnarsson.