Bryech crawled his way to the top of the hill before him, Toralf and Thrand to his flanks. The hard packed snow made it impossible to move silently but the noise from the camp on the other side of the hill covered their approach. Crawling only so high that they could get a glance, couldn’t risk getting spotted and losing the element of surprise. Bryech scanned the camp in the depression below. Covered on three sides by hills and to the east opened to a small stream. It was occupied by those responsible for the pain and suffering of several villages in the Eastern Stormjarl territory during the past several months. The Einherjar had been tracking them for the better part of two weeks before finding them here.
“I count thirty in the main body.” Bryech whispered. While these brigands were armed and had shown the willingness for violence, their equipment was basic at best.
“More by the stream, looks like nine, maybe ten.” Thrand responded. Bryech looked to him to show his acknowledgement but Thrand was still scanning. Bryech could see him thinking how they should approach. He had a mind for tactics. Thrand turned to his friend and nodded. Bryech signaled to move back to their position at the bottom of the hill where their warpack was waiting. Fritha and Yrsa were there with the warriors, Lilith, Amiya, and Ylva were preparing healing supplies. Arland as gray as he was kept watch to their south, his bow ready for any unexpected visitors.
“What did you see?” Fritha whispered to the returning party.
“They’ve got forty, give or take a few.” Bryech replied, grabbing his shield from one of the warriors who was holding it for him.
“Numbers wise they have the advantage but they lack the quality of our Drengr.” Bryech continued.
“It will be a worthy fight then.” Toralf chimed in, facing toward the enemy, his excitement quite visible. Bryech smiled and gave a quiet chuckle. He thought the same.
“Thrand, what do you think?” Fritha asked her anticipation apparent as well. Thrand paused for a moment, thinking back to what he saw.
“We have the advantage of the hill, we should double that by hitting them from both sides.” Thrand pointed to the west.
“We can move behind the hill and flank them from the north.” Bryech nodded his agreement.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Thrand, Toralf, take half the pack and and move to hit them from the far side. The rest of us will stay here and meet you in the middle.”
The group breaks and finishes the last of their preparations. Bryech scans the group one last time before they split. Toralf and Ylva share a moment before he departs, Fritha and Thrand doing the same. Quickly, quietly, and with experienced efficiency the warriors finish their preparations and move to their respective groups. As Thrand takes half around the rest slowly make their way up the hill awaiting the signal from their comrades.
Just below the edge again Bryech waited in anticipation, his attention pulled by the quiet but quickened breathing of Yrsa. As he looked at her he could tell she was fighting her nerves. She was less equipped than most, having only just truly begun as a warrior. Bryech tapped her with the flat of his blade to get her attention and laughed lightly as she jumped. She scowled as she met his gaze thinking he was mocking her.
“Hold onto your courage my friend, and know that if we fall His ears will ring with our names.” His look was meant to be one of reassurance but his helmet kept her from seeing it. She nodded and took a deep breath before adjusting her grip on her sword.
“I’ll stay close to Fritha and with luck not steal all your glory.” She smiled, her confidence rising to the surface behind the jest. Just then the blast of a horn blasted through the quiet. Bryech leapt up, reacting immediately to the signal.
“CHAARGE!!” Bryech roared out his command as a battlecry and rushed down the hill. The combined cry of both groups charging down the hill sent the foe below into a panicked rush of movement. Before either side of the Einherjar force was even half way down the hill the brigands responded with a volley of arrows.
“Shields!” Fritha called out from Bryech’s left. Bryech raised his shield just in time for a series of loud thuds to crash out over the thunder of charging warriors as the arrows covered the hillside.
“Shit,shit,shit,shit!” Bryech heard Yrsa cry out as death rained down around them. Across the field Thrand and Toralf crashed into the foe screaming out commands that could barely be heard over the sounds of battle. Bryech ran into the first bandit he saw using the momentum from the hill to send the man sprawling. Thrusting forward with fervor he pierced the man through his throat before he could recover, a loud gurgling his only response. Diving into the fight Bryech could not help but feel their momentum stall as the bandits continued their barrage of arrows. Several warriors to his right cried out in pain as the volley’s found their mark.
“Shield Wall!” Thand’s voice boomed out over the cacophony. Quickly moving into a more defensive formation the far side continued to press in hoping to keep the initiative. Through bouts of fighting Bryech watched the far side begin to carve through the enemy in droves. Although taking a defensive formation they pushed forward with a violence worthy of song. Hoping to do the same Bryech followed suit.
“South Fang! Sh..OOfh!” Before he could finish his command a hulking beast of a man sent him flying with a swing of a large hammer. Rolling with the hit Bryech winced as his old war wound pulsed pain through his chest. Rising with forced speed and grit Bryech meet the brigands who rushed through the now vacant spot in the skirmish line hoping to envelop their foe on the southern front. Two women ran toward Bryech with small skirmish shields and swords. Recovering from the sharp pain in his chest Bryech pushed to the right hoping to face only one of them at a time. For a few moments the two faltered as they tried to fight around one another. In that time Bryech fought hard against the first woman but her defense was strong and he was unable to defeat her before her counterpart assaulted his shield with a flurry of blows. The three of them went on for some time, neither side gaining the advantage. Bryech could tell they were tiring as their movements slowed; his years of training and experience had led to enough endurance to last through their onslaught. One of the women swung for a wide arcing hit and Bryech lashed forward with a tight cut at her forearm, slicing deep into her skin. The woman screamed in pain as blood soaked her arm and sleeve.
“You bastard!” the other screamed as she launched into a renewed burst of fierce strikes. Her assault put Bryech on the retreat focusing on defense. The momentum was short lived as she again faltered under her mounting fatigue. Scooping forward with his shield Bryech opened her defense and cut deep into her side splitting her armor and sending her entrails pouring out onto the ground. As she fell he followed with another slash across her face, silencing her cries. The second woman now back in the fight screamed at the scene.
“Kara, no!” The woman looked from her fallen friend to Bryech and rushed at him with a furious cry. Her sword in her uninjured hand swung weakly at him. Her strong arm disabled by his previous strike. Bryech swatted her attacks aside with the edge of his shield before running her through. The woman gasped as the pain hit her, dropping her sword to grip at his wrist and forearm. Bryech met her gaze with a snarl
“For Stormjarl.” He growled before punching the edge of his shield into her temple, a resounding crack echoing back as he pulled his sword from her body. Looking back to the fight the large bandit was sowing chaos into the fight. Although the battle bode ill for the bandits the man seemed determined to fight to the last.
“Come on you big bastard!” Bryech yelled as he charged at him. The man turned just in time to catch a slash on his arm. Wincing, the man swung his hammer with one hand nearly striking Bryech in the head. The two exchanged blows, Bryech was faster but the man had strength to him. In only a few blows he shattered Bryech’s shield. Bryech drew his seax in his off hand and continued to trade blows with the man, the fight turning to the bandit now that his shield was gone. The man swung from his side and broke through Bryech’s attempt at a block slamming into his chest and sending him flying back. Bryech’s wound flared again, pain lancing through his chest stealing his breath. Bryech tried to rise but the pain was harder to fight through when he was this tired. The bandit rushed in and swung down looking to finish the fight. Bryech rolled, dodging the blow and taking a wild swing at his opponent’s hands. Bryech’s seax found purchase and the man dropped his hammer in a moment of pain as he pulled back in shock. Bryech pushed up and tried to stab the bandit but his attack wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the man’s armor. Recovering, the bandit grabbed Bryech by the mask of his helm and his belt and threw him. Before Bryech knew what was happening the man was on him raining blows on him with his bare fists. Bryech curled tight hoping to defend himself but the man was too strong.
“Somebody. Get. This. Fucker. Off me!” was all Bryech could yell out as he tried to stop his head from being crushed. Suddenly the blows stopped as a smattering of blood hit Bryech. Looking up, the man had an axe blade buried in his face. Suddenly Thrand appeared, kicking Bryech’s assailant off with a grunt. Reaching down he yelled above the battle.
“On your feet Ulfhednar!” Pulling Bryech to his feet he acknowledged his friend and reentered the fray, Shattering a shield before caving in its wielder’s chest. Collecting his blades Bryech followed and together the Einherjar slaughtered their enemies.
As the battle ended and the cries of the wounded replaced the sounds of combat. Bryech knelt and collected himself. Sore and bloody he rested amongst the carnage and felt the rush of war fade from his mind. His thoughts moved from glory to the aftermath and the bloody justice that still needed to be dealt.
“Toralf, get Ylva and Lillith and have them start tending the wounded and our fallen. The rest of you gather the dead and finish off the rest of these níðingur. We burn them without blessings or speaking their names.” Toralf jogged up the hill breathing heavily from the fight. A yell came from within the warpack.
“Our people are avenged!” The battlecry that followed felt as if it made the earth shake. And together they finished their work burning the corpses of their foes and putting to rest the suffering of the Stormborn Coast.
Bryech sat by the fire later that night in the Einherjar camp taking a watch over their fallen warrior. They wouldn’t dare burn him with their fallen foes. He deserved an honored funeral in Ulvesal where his people could pay their respects. His name was Ervind, he had fought with them since the Grimward Raids. He left behind a son and a mate. It had been some time since Bryech had lost a friend in battle, it was a pain he had been happy to forget. As the camp grew quiet, Bryech looked at his severely damaged helm and thought about the cost of their actions. Without him realizing Thrand, Fritha and Yrsa had joined him. He smiled once he realized his friend’s presence. Fritha handed him a cup and raised her own as the rest of them sat.
“To Ervind Stormjarl, May The Great Wolf’s ears ring with his name.” the rest raised their cups.
“May he be welcomed into his pack, and live forever with his ancestors in the Hunting Grounds” Yrsa finished. The group sat until the next vigil woke and replaced them. Bryech was glad for their turn. It was a good reminder that no matter what Stormjarl faced they would face it together.