Valknut

CHAPTER|23 D - Castle Siege

Kieran paced inside the tiny little hut at the edge of the village. All that stood between him and his castle now was the road that led North. His thoughts were diverted towards the progress of the three groups. Where were they? And what enemies had they encountered? How many of his and Olaf’s men had been lost? Would their losses significantly impact the outcome of the castle siege? 

Just as he rushed to the window to scour the landscape, yet again, the door opened with a bang and the hut shuddered under the impact. In stepped Olaf and Agnar. Excitement filled the previously nervous air as they recounted their time in the village and the forest. After clearing the Inn of guards, Olaf and his two-man escort had bumped into Agnar who was returning the old man and his son to the safety of the village. They had teamed up and scoured the rest of the forest and found no other roaming guards. 

As handshakes and back pats were exchanged, Klaufi strode in. The seax had been removed from his shoulder and the old farmer had stitched the wound as well as he could. Pain rode up and down his arm, but Klaufi seemed confident in being able to handle himself in the next battle. He patted the pouch in his pocket and grinned at Olaf, who returned the gesture with his own knowing grunt. 

Klaufi questioned Kieran and Olaf about the guards that had attacked him. Had they gotten away? Where were his troops that had given chase? This new information was unsettling to them all. Orders to conduct a search for the missing men was issued. 

Sverting was the last to walk into the hut. In his left hand, he carried the decapitated head of the man that had attacked him and his troops. With their leader dead, the remaining guards had surrendered. He proudly bore his cuts and bruises from the fight. The darkness dancing in his eyes scared Kieran. He was reminded, momentarily, of what he might see at the castle. 

All thoughts were pushed aside as a cheer rose outside and trickled in through the windows. Quickly the five men stepped out from the hut. The runaway guards had been captured! Klaufi’s troops were now dragging them towards the clearing. Applause went up as the guards were thrown into the pile of troops that Agnar and Sverting had captured. 

With all loose ends now tied up, a head count began. Of the hundred odd men that had stepped off the ships, about eighty stood unscathed. From the rest, the gravely injured were resting in peasant huts, and the dead were being laid out in the clearing. 

The final moment had arrived! It was time to reclaim all that they had lost. 

In the clearing, Kieran and Olaf’s troops lined up for their final fight of the day. They ditched extra clothing and wore only what was needed; the cold forgotten. The last of the ale was downed and weapons were inspected and sharpened. Not because they needed to be but because the sound of grinding stone against metal helped their collective nervous energy dissipate into the mist. A somber silence, a sense of calmness and focus descended onto the group. As each person finished their pre-battle routine, groups began forming – the archers flanked on all four sides by shield and sword bearing men. Taking the last row was a line of villagers still capable and motivated to fight for their rightful leaders. 

Olaf and Kieran took to the horses while Sverting, Agnar, and Klaufi walked amongst their troops, shouting words of encouragement. When the troops signaled their readiness with roars and the beating of weapons against shields and the cold ground, the two men yanked on their respective horses’ reins indicating that the march northward had begun.   

They trudged past the rolling fields on the outskirts of the village and across the grassland that separated the village from the castle. War cries were replaced by harsh ragged breathing and eyes twinkling with malice. Despite the cold, sweat glistened on muscles tensing under taught skin. The journey took almost two hours and by the time they reached the thin tree line that provided the last of their cover from enemy eyes, they were simply bursting with excitement.