Flight of The Raven

The Path To Glory

"I always knew that i'd sail far and long,
The seas of blue would echo with my song,
I hear the sound of the great horn,
Remember that for battle i am born.

Seek new lands, prosperous and fair,
To endless sands if the gods should bring me there,
My loud roar shall sound in the deep,
For at last i've risen from my sleep.

My sword is sharp, my arrow flies long,
My axe is steady, my shield is strong,
My spirit is great, my stance a stone wall,
Decided be my fate, my soul ready for the hall.

I always knew that some day i would die,
That I'd return to the sea and to the sky,
I hear the sound of the deep horn,
Remember that for battle i am born."

The voices of many men echoed across the North Sea. Their song of exploration and war was lost in the waves and the winds of the north. Their destination, England. Their purpose, war. King Harald himself leading his great army against the king of England, Harold Godwinson. By his side stood two men, the English kings exiled brother, Tostig, to his left, and Haralds son, Olav, heir to the throne of Norway to his right.

"My brother will be ready for us once we arrive." Said Tostig. -"I know." Replied Harald. "And he shall greet us with sword and spear." He then placed his hand on the shoulder of his son, smirked at him and did the same to Tostig. "But our steel is harder, and our hearts are bolder." Olav smiles back at him and nods. To that Tostig speaks again -"Do also keep in mind that a few lords down in Normandy now look north, also desiring the throne." -"Worry not of the French." Interrupts Harald. "I have made a deal with the king of France himself. They will aid us in the war. We also have Denmark and of course, Scotland with us." Tostig nods in approval and a long silence takes over.

-England, London.-
-"The army of ten thousand northmen, carried on three hundred boats is now half way across the North Sea on its way towards England. It will take them about two days until they may set foot on the shores of England. The chances are they are heading straight for York. With the northmen sails the brother of King Harold, the past Earl, Tostig.". These words were read out to King Harold by a man wearing a rich robe. The lords in the room listen on. -"Thank you, Æthelwold." The king said as he sent the man away and went into deep and long thinking.

"So it is true. Tostig is returning to England for its throne and my head." He said. -"My lord, we must rally the men and head north right away." A lord spoke as he stood up from his seat. -"But what of the French? They could strike us from the south at any moment!" Said another lord, and so, voice by voice the room began echoing with raised voices and arguing. That is, until king Harold stood up with a loud yell. -"Silence!". To that the lords stoped their discussions and sat back down.

"We shall deal with the threat of Norway first. Eadwin, i want you to rally as much men as you can and head for York as soon as possible. In the meantime i shall rally the lords of the realm and bring my army north as soon as i can." To which Duke Eadwin replies -"Yes, my lord!" as he stands up. King Harold continues. -"We deal with Harald and my brother first, then we mind the French." The lords in nodded to their king and left the room. "My fathers legacy shall be defended."

-Norway, Nidaros-
A great man charged onwards. Bearing a greataxe, he swung it as it hit a shield. Another man, smaller, but wielding sword and shield swung back, his strike deflected by the great axeman as he grabbed the smaller ones shield and ripped it out of his hands. With a mighty roar he went for an overgead swing which was avoided as the other man spun around and placed his sword on the large man's throat.

They smirked at each other and chuckled as a voice interrupted them. -"Why, isn't it the beardless bastard of the king himself?" The man that still held the sword looked to the side. As he heard a familiar voice and connected it with an even more familiar face he dropped his blade and swiftly walked over to the man who called him, laughing the whole way. -"Svein!" shouted the laughing young man before giving the newcomer a hug.

-"Long time, Magnus." Replied the older man. -"Too long." said Magnus and continued "What are you doing here?" Svein replied before giving him a wide smirk. -"Are you not happy to see me?" He laughed and continued "I was sent here by your father, to watch over you and help you keep the realm intact. Now, the real question, what is the name of this mountain of a man?" Svein asked as he could not keep his excitement and wonder inside while he looked towards the large man with the axe.

-"How rude of me." Magnus answered. "This is my good friend, Ulfar. They gave him the title 'The bear'." He said as making a fake over impressed expression. Ulfar walked up to the two men and nodded at them. -"My lad, if our every warrior looked like you all of north would be beneath our feet by now." said Svein to Ulfar as the three men laughed. So they spoke for a while until Ulfar had other matters to attend to, and the two men that remained greeted him farewell and talked on.

-"Any news of my father?" Asked Magnus, as to Svein replied -"No, but it is said that he is to reach England in a few days, he is to message me when he does so." Magnus nodded at his friend and looked towards the sea, a sad expression on his face. -"I still can not believe he took my older brother with him but decided to leave me behind." -"He trusted you with a far greater task!" Svein swiftly responded. "You are here to watch over his kingdom as he competes for the throne of England, and I am here to help you with that. There will be time for great raids and bloody battles, you are young. Your day will come." To those words Magnus lightens up a bit, even uncovering a faint smile.

"Now, go get some rest, your duties come after you tomorrow.". The two men greet each other farewell and each goes their own way. The night was cold and Magnus kept warm by the fire of the hearth and the furs of his bed. His father, though, he lied down at the front of his longboat. The waves of the North Sea splashing against against the prow, and the wind pushing them onward, steady course to glory.

-The North Sea-
Yet another day had passed and the fleet of King Harald Harada is entering the Dogger Bank, therefore closing in on the shore of York. The tales have been told and the songs have been sang. The wind stoped blowing and it was time to row. The young ones were eager and rowed swift and strong, but the wise ones rowed easy, and to Harald's amusement kept on rowing as the young warriors have gotten tired quite quickly.

The day was slowly passing on as the sun ever so slightly flew across the blue sky. -"The wind carried us for a long time." said Olav, looking at his father, who had his back turned to him. -"But no more." Harald replied, looking into the distance, towards water and soon, earth. -"True, but then again, it will not be long until Britton blood feeds its soil." Olav said, smirking to the other men on the boat, most of them returning his expression back to him.

Harald, on the other hand, was not fazed. He just looked foward, eyes set on his goal. "Are you going to be in the shield wall yourself, father?" He continues, to which Harald swiftly replies "Of course I am! I may be old but viking blood still runs through my veins." He said proudly. He was ready to fight. He was ready to die. "There is one thing you have to remember, Olav." He said as he placed his hand on his sons back and spoke in a serious tone. "A leader who does not lead the charge is no leader at all." He said as he pointed his finger around, looking into his son.

"Some day, when I die, it will be up to you to lead Norway into glory and keep our names on the pages of history. And you will have to watch over your brother. But before you are king, you need a taste of battle, blood on your blade, fury in your eyes." He went on, with a flame in his eyes that not even the seas of the world could put down. "But war is not about fighting. It is about knowing when to fight." The words of his father echoed on and repeated themselves again and again as if they were being carved into his mind, like their kin carved runes onto stone.

Soon, night fell. They were nearing the shores of England, her green grasslands and rich cities. Everything was silent, the men were eager. The dark sea was set ablaze by the light of torches on every boat. The only sound was that of the steady waves. The whole fleet felt like an island, making its way towards a new home. A home they would take by force, or die trying, for this was their great raid, only they would not only raid, but conquer as well. The night was quiet. It was the calm before the storm. They were that storm.