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"You remember the signal?" Ingemar glanced back at me, tall and proud atop her horse.
"I do," I nodded, "two burning arrows across the sky. Do not worry. We may be young, but this is not our first battle."
Ingemar smiled thinly, sliding off her horse to join her men in walking up Letham Hill, "I know. That is why I do not worry."
Saga sniffed as the woman marched away, towering over some of her men, "I do not know whether to like the woman or hate her."
I watched Ingemar yell at her warriors, inspiring them as they walked, "Whatever you feel for her, you have to admire her."
Saga raised her brows in agreement, "Eighty successful battles is no small streak."
I looked over the warriors heading up the hills to the ones heading East. I could not see Uhtred and his men, and partially, I was glad because our well wishes had been sweet. Another part of me wished to see them again; I had grown used to them being nearby.
And, I wished to see Sihtric.
"Come on," Bryngerd gruffed, "we must leave the horses and take our positions. We will not have long."
She was right; Bishop Auckland was only slightly closer to Letham Hill than Dunholm. Daga would be here before we were ready to face him and before our prayers had reached the skies.
I slipped off Helios, leading him into the trees before tying him up beside Sunchaser, whose blonde coat was covered in runes Saga had drawn.
"Make for the line," Saga ordered, her voice booming and serious, "sixteen warriors to a row! Prepare your swords and your shields!"
"Odin is with us!" Bryngerd added on, "Do not fear!"
I swallowed, coming out from around the trees.
My father always made legendary speeches before his battles, speeches that were spoken of for months after the dead had been buried. I had never done that before, but I wanted to inspire my warriors after they had come such a long way to help me.
"Saga," I called out, drawing the attention of the woman.
"Yes, Jarl," Saga's turned to me rigidly, fully in her role of a commander.
"I wish to go to the front of the line," I told her simply, "I want to speak to our warriors."
Something flashed across Saga's eyes as though she was suddenly hit by nostalgia. She bowed curtly, "Yes, Jarl. Follow me."
I matched her long strides, my armour rattling as I walked and alerted the warriors of our presence.
"Silence!" Saga demanded as we reached the first row, "The Jarl wishes to speak!"
There is nothing quite like having eighty sets of eyes on you, staring through your soul, waiting for you to say something, anything, that will convince them that death is not something to fear. That will reassure them that you are worth fighting for; to plead with them to stay when the enemy arrives.
I opened my mouth slowly, wetting my lips a few times, "Warriors,"
Soft neighing could be heard from the horses nearby, and the final clangs of armour echoed as the last row was set up.
"Strong start," Saga mumbled lowly, for a moment turning back into my friend, a flutter of mischief crossing her face before she straightened out again.
I took in a deep breath, "We have not had long together. You do not know me, but you have offered to fight for me, and for that, I am eternally grateful." I tried to look at as many warriors as possible as I spoke. "I can not tell you all the reasons you should follow me because truthfully, I do not know myself."
Bryngerd's stare turned to me, wide and frantic.
"But," I continued before she panicked further, "if I can not assure you to fight for me, then I ask you to fight for honour."
Heart beats sped up in the area amongst the soldiers, and I knew I had caught their attention.
"Dunholm is a fortress of Danes!" I raised my voice, "Held by Ragnar Ragnarsson for years, for honourable Danes to come and rest, build roots, and live without fear!"
"Hear!"
I swallowed as the roars sounded up, my own heart pounding, "Dunholm has been taken by traitors! They are not Danes! They are cowards!" I began to pace in front of the line as the warriors grew anxious for battle. "Our Gods will not favour them!"
"Gyda," Saga mumbled, her eyes trained on the soil, "Daga is close."
I nodded curtly, swallowing the lump in my throat, "Odin is with us! Thor is with us! Tyr fights beside us! Freyja has blessed us! We have their protection! We have nothing to fear!"
"Hear! Hear! Hear!"
Saga reached out, squeezing my hand, "You did good," she pushed me slightly, "now, join the line. The battle is here."
I walked backwards, straining my ears to hear the roar of men running towards the hill.
The warriors parted for me in the middle, reorganising themselves as Saga and Bryngerd joined me as well.
I raised my shield and I turned my sword in my hand, shutting my eyes, "Great Gods above, I pray to you again; let us honour you in Daneland, let us restore Dunholm to your power."
Distantly, I could hear Ingemar's bellow followed by hundreds of swords and shields clanging into it each other.
I looked up to the sky, no clouds hanging nearby, only pure blue, "Odin, bless this battle."
"An arrow," Bryngerd announced shortly, her eyes looking up.
Saga took in a deep breath, "Shield wall!"
I readied my shield, placing it against the ground, other shields piling on top until I could barely see the sky. However, I could still see the black wings of a raven as it flew over our heads.
"The second arrow!" Bryngerd yelled.
"March!" Saga ordered, thumping her shield into the ground, creating an echo all around us.
We moved forward, our shields purposely hitting against each other, creating a sound that warned the enemy it was safer to flee than stay.
Blood already painted the hill as we moved around it, and Daga's men spotted us swiftly, barking orders to one another as they realised they were in danger.
"Any more words, Jarl?" Saga joked lightly, her eyes narrowed and fixed on the battle ahead as Daga's men split from each other, half of them racing towards us.
I held my sword tighter, "Glory or Valhalla!"
"Glory or Valhalla!" My warriors repeated back to me before they braced, Daga's warriors slamming into us.
I grit my teeth together, stabbing my blade through the small gaps in the shield wall, cutting men's legs and ankles.
"Forward!" Saga bellowed.
We marched a step forward, stepping on already fallen bodies, before repeating the process again.
I could see the hill from the corner of my eye; about a hundred and fifty of Daga's men crept up it, and the other lot came at us.
"Forward!" Bryngerd ordered now, shoving her spear through the chest of one of Daga's men.
A cry sounded out as one of our own soldiers was hurt, and I heard him fall to the ground, a section of the shield wall opening.
"Hold the wall!" Saga demanded, "Hold steady!"
I struck through the gaps again, gasping slightly as a blade whipped past my face, narrowly missing it.
"Forward!" Saga stabbed the man that had almost struck me with her own blade, hitting his heart. "Glory or Valhalla!"
"Glory or Valhalla!"
A loud chorus of noise distracted the men attacking us, and I glanced up in time to see two more arrows soar over our heads.
Uhtred was coming for them.
"Fight, you bastards!" Bryngerd shrieked with new found bloodthirst, "Cut them all down and remind them what it means to be a Dane!"
The shield wall broke, and we rushed forward, slicing through the distracted men who began to panic, realising they were surrounded.
I dodged the first man who rushed at me, grabbing a hold of his sword arm and burying my blade into his stomach before wrenching it out just as quickly.
Part of my job on the field was to force my father's men to surrender and lay down their weapons. I had no time for whatever fools Daga had hired.
"Gyda," Saga yelled behind me, "I am at your back! Go forward!"
I listened to her, diving between men, cutting down many as I went, protecting my own warriors who bore emblems of a wolf on their armour.
My father's guard was who I needed. They had been twelve men, but without Sigurd, they were eleven. Torben was one of them, and I knew he would be loyal, so I sought to find him the soonest.
"Jarl Daga, the wit—"
Saga sliced a man who yelled out in two, spitting on him, "No such Jarl exists."
"By the Gods,"
I whipped around, my sword raised as a man decked in furs came towards me, lowering his hood.
"I did not think I would ever see you alive again," Torben grinned at us, his wrinkled face brightening.
I breathed a sigh of relief, "Torben."
"And Aegir, Bjorn, Durin and Isleif," Torben rushed out, motioning behind him to more heavily armed men. My father's guard.
"And the others?" Saga blurted, her face spotted with droplets of blood.
Torben frowned, "Three are dead, Sigurd included."
"He was traitor," I snapped, turning in time to block my warrior from cutting Torben, "not the men in furs! Spread the word! We are convincing them, not killing them!"
"Yes, Jarl," the woman bowed, rushing back into the battle swiftly, shouting at the top of her lungs.
"I know he was a traitor," Torben agreed, walking after us with the other's of my father's guard, "but the other two were not. They simply defied Daga too openly."
"Who?" I stopped, taking a few minutes to battle with Daga's men decorated in boar emblems.
Torben bumped into my back, turning his axe, "Hrosskel and Nivek."
"Damn him," I swore, thinking of Daga, "they were good men."
Torben yelled as he caught the neck of one of Daga's men on a horse, pulling him down, "Ove and Roran swore oaths to Daga! They can be killed!"
I nodded swiftly, "What of Tormund and Valdemar?!"
"Fighting on the hill!" Torben yelled back, "You must speak to them!"
"We will guard you, Jarl Gyda!" Aegir yelled, flanking to my side, "Honour to Jarl Brynjar!"
"Honour to Jarl Brynjar!" The others of the guard and Saga roared, surrounded me easily, and pushing us through the men, their swords, and axes fierce and precise.
I began to notice as we walked, that men began to stop their fighting; men who received nods from the guard lowered their blades and spoke with my warriors. The turn had already begun.
"Shields up!" Durin commanded, raising his shield over my head.
We climbed up the hill slowly, the sound of battle outside the shields chilling.
"Torben! What is this?" A voice I recognised belonging to Tormund spoke out.
"The Jarl is here," Torben told him softly before he took in a deep breath, dropping his shield, "The Jarl is here!"
Birds rose from the trees, and the fighting around came to a sudden halt as the shields lowered to reveal me under them.
Looking at the battle from the top of the hill was difficult; I could see many of my own fallen, and it did not matter that more of Daga's were slain.
"Warriors of Dunholm!" Saga was fearless, stepping forward, "I am your commander! I am telling you to throw down your weapons!"
Some men obeyed instantly, admiration for her shining on their faces; others ignored her.
"The rightful heir of Dunholm stands before you," Torben boomed, stretching his arm out to me, "do you dare to dishonour the wishes of Jarl Brynjar and the Gods themselves!"
More blades hesitantly fell to the ground.
"Cowards!" A screech sounded, "I am Jarl Brynjar's son! I am his heir!"
I sought Daga out through the crowds of men, sitting atop a horse with no intention to come down and join the fight.
"If you are the one chosen to lead Dunholm," my voice cut through the air, reaching everyone around me, "then, prove it."
Daga's dark eyes glared up at me as I smirked down at him, my arms stretched out as I stepped in front of my father's guard.
"If you have been chosen by the Gods, let us draw up a square and fight!" I sneered, "To the death."
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