Chapter 37
It was night and it was dark, obviously, but this was an inky dark that seemed to suck any light into it never allowing it to reveal any detail in anything. It seemed malevolent and evil almost. It was also cold, not snow cold, but after sweating in the sun up on the wall Paul fought to keep his teeth from chattering. They had to cross the farmer's fields and work their way closer to the camp so when the arrows stopped they would be close enough to start the mayhem right away. In order to move silently men carried their swords in their sheaths in their hands and their shields fastened securely to their backs. Everything on their persons was wrapped or padded to ensure silence.
Paul's group of ten had their faces painted with blue stripes that started high on the right side and went down diagonally, Tony's group of ten had stripes that went the opposite way and Sir Stanley's slightly larger group of fifteen had stripes that went vertically down their faces. This was to show their positions in the fight to come, Paul on the right, Stanley in the center and Tony on the left.
When they reached a point one hundred meters from the enemy camp or thereabouts they stopped sinking down into the waist high crops around them. Men loosened weapons and shields took drinks from their canteens and settled in to wait. Thunder rolled across the sky seeming to echo back and forth in an unending rhythm.
As the light fought its way through the clouds they knew the time was near. As the sky lightened more they could just make out the nearest of the tents in the camp. Paul whispered to his men to relax as the archers had to do their jobs first. The sun fought to brighten the day a bit more through the dark roiling clouds and then the screams started. They searched the grey sky and could barely see the arrows flying silently towards the camp. They watched as the arrows moved across the camp and then forward, across and forward, across and forward. Thirty archers sending five arrows per minute each for fifteen minutes then the deadly rain stopped.
While the arrows still flew Sir Stanley gave a hand signal and they all moved closer, seventy five meters, fifty meters, thirty meters, twenty meters, ten meters and the horn blew from the castle walls as the rain of arrows stopped. The men leaped up and moved towards the camp at a quick pace yelling a battle cry born from anger and frustration releasing.
At the sound of that horn three groups of men entered the enemy camp. The first with faces painted with blue stripes swept through the arrow pierced tents cutting down any who were moving about while screaming an undecipherable battle cry. They came in from the right corner of the camp closest to the castle and sped through the enemy camp.
They moved through the camp striking only those who resisted until Cory fell. Paul turned to see a man reloading a crossbow. That man had faked injury and waited till they had passed to attack. Paul threw his sword like you would throw a knife and impaled the man. From his left he heard a call "Kill them all." Paul realized these men that had attacked from behind had just sentenced their comrades to death. Paul retrieved his sword and they continued through the camp wreaking havoc. Soon they saw faces painted like skulls coming toward them.
On the left side were thirty large armed men with horned helmets and faces painted black as night leaving just the right amount of white to look like skulls come to life, baying a song of death as their axes and swords swept the way clear. Their right side was right beside the corral that was midway through the camp and they pivoted from that spot charging through the camp. As they moved through the camp those with blue painted faces joined those with the faces painted like skulls creating a wall of screaming death passing through the camp. Those fleeing the onslaught of arrows and the charge of the men that followed ran into horn helmed warriors coming from the far end of the camp.
Those at the far end of the camp from where the arrows started men were just waking to the sound of terror when they were confronted with their own terror. It consisted of another thirty horn helmed men but these had their faces and beards painted with red paint looking like their faces had been clawed by a large talon and left for dead. They looked like they escaped from Valhalla to send the men in the camp to Hel. Men fled from these screaming devil's that blocked escape to the beach, toward the center of the camp, running straight into the two squads coming the other way. Men screamed as they tried to run but found no escape. The two pincers of death met at the enemy command tent which was roughly about two thirds of the way through the camp from the castle.
In less than one hour it was over. The enemy was routed leaving only a handful unwounded and scores dead, but the loses were not only on the enemy side. Two of the Araluen men fell to men hiding in tents that jumped out after they had passed. One of the black painted Skandians was killed and another badly wounded when the horses terrified by the sound of battle broke through the corral and stampeded through their line. Haldor was killed by a crossbow bolt fired at Sten. He saw the shot coming and stepped in front of Sten to protect him and the shot pierced his heart and he died while still standing protecting his skirl.
It was over.
Then it seemed the world fell apart around them as the sky opened up with a fury and men, all men, ran for any cover they could find.