Tales of Infamy (Viking)

10 - Thyra

I took a hammer from the pile and used my dagger to cut through the fabric of my dress. I had plenty of garments on underneath, so the fabric would have only gotten in my way. Before I knew it, I was in my new position.

I do not know whose house this is, nor what position I had assigned them. I spotted several children's toys laying on the ground as I walked through. I had chosen it because there was a window looking out over the courtyard in front of the jarl's house. I was not the only one in here. I recognized several thralls, as well as Åse and the wife of Ailmær's uncle. She gave me an encouraging smile.

Windows were something special in our houses, not a lot of people had them. They were closed with wooden planks so that it would not get too cold in the winters. This particular wooden plank did not fit correctly, there was a very small crack at the bottom which I could use to look out through.

The plan went well, we had all ran towards the jarl's house, so that was where the men gathered. I saw the craziness in the berserkers' eyes as they glanced around, but the rest of the town was deserted.

"They have gathered for us!" One of the men shouted. I could not see who it had been, but it must have been their jarl. I could not help but smile, Tyr had put his arm in our trap. Now we just wait for the perfect time to bite.

I watched as a red-headed man tried to open the door, but it would not budge. He threw his shoulder into it, but the door again did not open. Several women inside screamed, only causing the men to laugh more and more. Before they could think to look around the building for another way in, the rain of arrows started.

The archers were hidden on roofs, behind windows and doors and in alleys. I watched at least a dozen men fall down before they even knew what hit them. My heart was pounding in my chest. The plan was working, I was doing it.

Two berserkers were shot, but they did not feel it. Instead, they were enraged, charging for some of the archers. I brought the horn to my lips and blew on it. One long note, it was the same in every language, for every army.

Attack.

We came in from all sides, the Vikings were hidden behind their shield wall, but they had no place to run or give way to. I had a tight grip on my hammer as I brought it into the skull of a particularly large berserker. He had long brown hair that was soon painted with red. His knife had still landed in one of the archers, but the Viking went down on his knees. I lifted the hammer again, I felt warm liquid land on my face like I was bathing. Again and again I hit his skull, until he could not possibly stand back up.

The berserkers that had left the group were down, though they took some people with them. I could not see clearly anymore. I saw my hands covered in blood, I felt my own pump through my body with the speed of Sleipnir. I tried to be the leader, to see what was happening in my battle, but I could not register what I was seeing.

I saw long blonde hair and an orange dress not far from me. My sister was wearing that dress, but I did not know if the body belonged to her. I heard the sounds of arrows being shot, the archers on the roof had the high ground and shot into the mess of Vikings. They had organised, hiding behind their shields and stabbing blindly, only the berserkers dared to jump over.

I fell to the side. A berserker had jumped the wall right in front of me. His axe struck the ground next to my leg. All I could see in his eyes was blind rage, the urge to kill anyone in front of him. When Ailmær spoke of them he said they were in a trance, but in my eyes a trance was peaceful. They were like mad dogs, wanting to put their teeth into something.

He got his axe from the ground and cut my leg in the process of it. Deep red blood came pouring out as soon as the axe left the wound, but to my own surprise I could not feel a thing. I swung my hammer at him and missed, he swung his axe and missed. We were both protected by the gods. They had placed a bet on us, which warrior would prevail?

I swung my hammer at his face, and he swayed to the side. The side I had my dagger on. I buried it deep into his neck. Even a berserker feels a wound like that. His eyes went wide and he brought down his axe one last time, into my hip.

I screamed out, though the feeling of pain was numbed by everything else. I screamed because I saw it land in me, because I was so angry that I became the mad dog I had just killed. I wanted to scream loud enough so that Ailmær could hear me, whether he was in England or Walhalla, I needed him here.

The cut was deep and bleeding, even with the axe still in it. Before I knew it my entire leg was covered in blood. I looked up in time to see the final stage of my plan start. The doors to the great hall opened, and out came another rain of daggers and knives into the exposed backs of our enemy. I laid my head on the ground, I watched as a spider crawled by my hand. Even he seemed to know that this was no place to be for a little one. Finally, when the last Viking was brought to his knees, I breathed out.