I turned Tintreg back. Another of the wolf-pelt warriors was spurring at me, sword raised to strike, and I roweled Tintreg hard, and felt the battle-rage. The stallion leaped forward, the man’s sword came down savagely, but I had closed on him too fast and his sword arm struck my shoulder just as Serpent-Breath skewered into his belly, breaking mail. I turned away, twisting the blade as I let Tintreg’s strength tug the sword free. Enar was in front of me now. He had drawn his sword, but seemed frozen by fear or indecision, and while he dithered I slammed Serpent-Breath down on his forearm with enough force to make him drop the sword, then, as I passed him I hammered the back of his helmet. I used the flat of the blade, knocking him forward onto his horse’s mane. I was not sure he was stunned, so I slammed the hilt down onto his head, then snatched his horse’s bridle and dragged it off the road. Berg, on the road’s far side, had thrust his sword into the belly of one horseman and sliced off the sword hand of another. One of the riders who had been prodding the women with his spear stave rode at me, his spear leveled, but I could see the fear in his eyes. The violence had started so quickly, none of the Norsemen had been ready for a fight, while my men were hungry. I spurred Tintreg again, slammed the spear aside with Serpent-Breath and then, because he was now too close, punched Serpent-Breath’s heavy hilt into the man’s face. I felt his nose break, saw the blood splatter, then he whimpered as Rathulf, one of my Danes, slid a sword into the small of his back. The man toppled sideways, his spear falling with a clatter onto the roadside stones. “Take his horse!” I told Rathulf.

The women were shrieking, the children bawling, and an unhorsed man was screaming as Henkil’s ax loomed above him. “Take prisoners!” I bellowed over the cacophony. Henkil must have heard me, but still slammed his heavy blade down, and a child shrieked in terror as the fallen man’s head was split in two. “Prisoners!” I shouted again, then saw that Enar had somehow recovered and was urging his horse westward. I dug my heels into Tintreg’s flanks, galloped alongside, and hit the back of Enar’s helmet again, harder still, but again using the flat of my sword. This time he fell from the saddle, and I seized his horse’s bridle. Berg came to help, dismounting and stripping away the unconscious man’s sword belt. “What about the women, lord?” he asked.

“We can’t help them,” I said. I regretted that, but we were a small band of warriors in a wide land infested by the enemy. We had to move swiftly or die. I looked back to see that my men had beaten down all the remaining enemy. The suddenness of their attack had won the small fight, but three of the enemy had still escaped and were spurring their horses westward.