Page 49 of Song and Sword
“But by the gods and goddesses, we will cost them,” added Baedi. “We will not be lambs submitting meekly to the slaughter. We will drag as many of them to the afterlife as we can. And if we are struck down this day, we will break their army in the process.”
Gunhilde took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “They will sing songs of the last stand of the Ironwood witches.”
“And their friends,” prompted Gunnar.
Gunhilde smiled warmly. “And their friends.”
“If I’m to die here, I want to at least be a part of the song,” Gunnar said firmly. “That seems only fair.”
“You’ve a rare spirit, young man,” said the Elder witch, laughing in spite of herself. Gunnar grinned and rubbed at his palm absentmindedly before saying to Hakon, “So how do we make these Skraelings bleed the most, Brother?”
“By hitting them when they are at their most vulnerable,” replied Hakon firmly. “That means when they are crossing the river. We hold this bank against whatever they throw at us. Once they’re across, they can use their numbers to surround us, and it will all be over.”
Gunhilde nodded. “I agree. The ford is narrow and will limit the number of warriors who can attack us. I might even feel optimistic about holding it, but the power of that boar-creature Uwe described worries me. Magic is the only edge we have, and the creature sounds dangerously powerful.”
“I’m not even sure how much magic the land will bear,” said Baedi cautiously. “That lightning hammer was supposed to end us all with a single stroke, and our protective shield was just as strong. I don’t know what will happen if we try any major spells.”
“News gets better and better,” observed Hakon. Sif glanced at her man. Despite the grim circumstances, his mood appeared to be rising. She wondered if it wasdue to their reunion, or if he was feeling the fatalistic joy of a true Jomsburg warrior facing his death.Perhaps he is already composing his death song.
“To the riverbank,” announced Gunhilde, and with a wave of her arm signaled that all witches still able to fight should follow her. Hakon and Gunnar stood at the edge of the bank closest to the ford. Ulf and Breca stood behind them. On one side of them stood Gunhilde and Sigrid, and on the other Baedi and Sif. The remaining witches fanned out along the bank to either side of them.
So this is what it is like to face death. I had so many plans for what I would do in life. I suppose none of that matters now.What did matter to Sif was that she was standing next to her man, and that they were facing this battle together.
“I love you,” said Sif to Hakon, and she meant it with all her heart. Hakon turned to look directly at her, and smiled. “My dear one. My woman. I love you, too.” Suddenly his gaze shifted and he was looking past her, his eyes widening. “Gods! Is it possible?” he cried.
Everyone turned to see what Hakon was looking at.Sails!Along the ocean to their south, a group of longships were rounding the nearby headland, making for the river mouth as fast as they were able, with fullsails billowing and oars flying. The sails all bore the image of a double-bladed axe that was the symbol of the Jomsburg warriors.
“We’re saved,” murmured Sif, hope rising in her chest. “The Jomsburg Vikings have come.” The longships seemed to leap through the waves as they raced towards the delta where the river met the sea.
“How long will it take them to reach us?” asked Sif, stepping into Hakon’s tight embrace.
“They’ll have to fight the river flow when they reach the delta,” replied Hakon, “but even so, no more than a quarter of an hour. They’re flying like the wind.”
“That may be too late for us,” uttered Gunhilde in dismay. “The Skraelings are at the ford.”
Sif and Hakon turned back to regard the river in horror. A steady stream of warriors, clad in black furs, were leaving the forest to stand on the far bank of the river. Behind them, more and more of the forest was blazing, and the black figures of the Skraelings stood outlined by the flames.
With a sick feeling, Sif knew that the Jomsburg warriors would not reach them in time.
Chapter Eleven
Rage and grief wrenched at Hakon’s heart.They were so close!It seemed that the gods must be toying with them, for victory and safety to be mere minutes away but still too far to help them. Already, the first of the Skraelings were venturing into the ford. He turned back to regard the longships, which were fighting the combination of current and tide at the river delta.
Save them. You must save them.Hakon eyed the Skraeling fighters who were nearly halfway across the ford and turned to Gunhilde.
“Run,” he said. “You must run. If you flee, you buy yourselves time for the Jomsburg longships to reach you. They can sail right up the river and block the Skraelings.”
“But the Skraelings are already crossing,” replied Gunhilde.
Hakon’s smile was twisted and grim. “Leave those ones to me.”
“Hakon,no!” cried Sif.
The warrior drew his sword and set his shield firmly on his arm. “There is no time,” he said. “Youmust obey me. You swore an oath to do so. Don’t make a mockery of that oath, or my sacrifice.”
Sif stood and swayed as if she was in agony then said, “I will obey, my Lord,” and turned and fled.
“Ironwood witches! With me, now!” called Gunhilde. They began their swift retreat.
