Aeleva; The Viking Saxon

Chapter 31

The Danes were running away from us. The threat of a Saxon army was bigger than two people.

We raced along the edges of the camp away from the Danes. We ran to the trees. We would lose any followers in that labyrinth.

Ealdorman Edward whooped and cheered as we dodged branches and jumped over roots. His energy was contagious. I shouted with excitement; we had survived it. I laughed from madness as we hurtled toward our men.

We emerged from the trees behind the Saxon line. The battle had already begun. The Danes had been surprised but were throwing spears and arrows at us. The Saxons had formed a shield wall that was resisting the main Danish army as they tried to get organised.

A small group of Danes had broken through but they were trapped. The Saxon wall had closed behind them and they were stuck surrounded by Christians on all sides. They tried as best they could to fight off the men, but they were heavily outnumbered. They did manage to take down a few Saxons but they were defeated quickly.

"Edward! Aeleva!" Ealdorman Alwin shouted above the noise. He was atop a horse and came cantering over to us. Shield raised and sword newly polished.

"By God! You should have died three times over woman!" I almost screamed with laughter at him. My adrenaline coursed through my veins.

"Can you fight?" Alwin asked.

"Of course, Sire." Edward answered.

"Find a shield," he said and urged his horse forward. Alwin shouted for Canterbury. The animal cried, rising up on his back legs, before cantering forward towards the men.

Ealdorman Edward and I found shields and raced to join our wall. The Danes had somewhat organised themselves. What look liked an attempt at a shield wall was forming. We had formed a mighty wall, made of the yellow and black cross of St Augustine. Strong Kentish metal shot through the gaps, daring anyone to try.

We thrust ourselves into the men and held strong. I was shoved forward, my shield torso height. A man below me and a man above me. My body was hunched as I was crammed in the shield of bodies. A man to my left patted my back. A knowing nod from above me.

We stood, all that Kent could give, in one line. Rows of men behind the wall ready to replace any man that fell. Behind them archers to pick off the Danes.

And behind them, the Kingdom of Kent.

"HOLD IT!" A voice screamed. Calling for the army to stand.

My mind stilled. I focused on the masses of Heathens, meters away. My heart kicked in my chest. The smell of sweat and mud swirled with metal.

I could hear the Danish army find their positions. I heard the metal clanging on their wooden shields.

My euphoria from the piers was evaporating quickly. I could feel the thousands of Danish men in front of me. Just the other side of my shield. My stomach cramped and bile rose in my mouth.

"HOLD STEADFAST!"

Our line of 4,000 men was all that stood between a Heathen army and Mercia. Our rows upon rows of yellow crossed shields were the last defence. The Vikings 3 metres away, ready to charge into us. They knew a shield wall. I had trained with them. This was not a fight against savages. It was the last man standing.

We must hold the wall.

"En, To, Tre, !" The Danish wall was moving towards us. "Træk!" Thousands of feet stamped closer. Shields clanging against each other. The ground vibrated to the beat of their march.

I looked around me. Each man was prepared to hold their position until the Danish wall collapsed, until the end. Which ones would die?

The crash of heathen steps came closer. The scent of sharpened metal was sour. They were so close. I prayed the men next to me were strong enough to hold the wall.