The Scottish garrison on Bit Island was insignificant compared to the invading Vikings.
Godred and Sigurd had no intention of negotiating with the Scots in the city; they were prepared for bloodshed. Bit Island had no farms or villages, so if the Scottish garrison didn’t surrender, they would surely co out to fight.
The adventurers from Scandinavia, the warriors from the Northern Islands, and the warriors from the Southern Islands needed to learn to fight together. This insignificant Scottish garrison was the perfect chance to practice their tactical coordination and whet their blades.
The plan was to wait for the prisoner army to break. Once the Scottish army began to hunt them down and broke formation, the main force would enter the fray. They would attack the Scots from the flank and rear, surrounding them and beginning the slaughter.
Godred had seen the Scottish garrison leave the city and begin their charge. But after waiting for a long ti, he still hadn’t heard the sound of a horn in the distance.
’Are they locked in a stalemate with the prisoner army? How could a re prisoner army hold them for so long?’
It wasn’t just Godred; Sigurd was also getting restless. He didn’t want to waste so much ti on the tiny Bit Island. His goal was to destroy all of Scotland.
"Why is there no horn call? Harald, go and see what’s going on. What kind of foolishness is that idiot brother of yours up to now?"
Godred stood up, speaking to Harald, who stood in attendance at his side.
"Yes, Father."
Harald mounted his horse, flicked the reins, and galloped off in that direction.
He, too, wondered what his brother was up to.
Before long, he reached a wide highland and saw the scene below.
’Sol, are you watching this? Could it be that you’ve taken pity on these prisoners and granted them resilience?’
However, he also noticed that this group of prisoners was a spent force. No matter how resilient they were, it couldn’t make up for the disparity in their combat skills and equipnt compared to their opponents.
Harald felt a little regretful.
The very next mont, however, he saw a horseman brandishing a longsword, charging the cavalry that was besieging the prisoner army. He successfully cut one of them down.
’Lagman? Has he gone mad?’
Then, the Scottish army began to wail. It was a rain of arrows. He then saw Archers protecting a troop of elite axen, ford into a tight phalanx, advancing as they chanted, "The gods protect us."
’Yoms Warriors... Why is Uncle Alette getting mixed up in this recklessness too?’
Harald frowned, then mounted his warhorse and charged toward the main army’s encampnt.
After hearing Harald’s report, Godred slamd his fist into a nearby tree.
"What? That imbecile. How could I have such a foolish son?"
"On the contrary, I think he has the makings of a leader. A leader willing to lay down his life for his soldiers will have soldiers willing to lay down their lives for him. Sol often favors n like that. If a leader lacks the courage to die for his n, what right does he have to ask them to die for him?
"Boneless Ivar said, ’Bury in the most dangerous place, the spot most vulnerable to attack, and I will guard my subjects and my comrades in arms.’" Sigurd said to Godred with a smile, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Those aren’t soldiers, they’re a pack of slaves! And he’s no leader, he’s a complete and utter fool."
Godred cut Sigurd off irritably.
"Harald, sound the horn! All forces, advance! We’ll flank the Scottish army."
...
As the Yoms Warriors charged, the Scottish cavalry hastily changed their direction of attack, and the infantry phalanx began to shift, widening its defensive line.
The pressure on the prisoner army was instantly relieved. As the Yoms Axe Soldiers took the front, the tables were turned.
"Fall back! Fall back! Fall back!"
Eric roared at the prisoner army behind him with what little breath he had left.
After over an hour of fighting together, the prisoner army had beco highly responsive to Eric’s commands.
They didn’t break formation imdiately. Instead, they cautiously maintained their shield wall until the Yoms Warriors had completely taken their place, only then did they break their phalanx.
Of the nearly five hundred n in the prisoner army at the start of the battle, fewer than a hundred remained.
To a man, the survivors collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
Until one man shouted, "We... we did it!"
"We did it! Glory to God!"
"Glory to God!"
Many shouted through choked sobs, and more than a few simply burst into tears.
Eric didn’t collapse imdiately, because he felt that if he did, he might not be able to get back up.
He felt that every breath he took was filled with the tallic tang of blood, and his arms felt like they no longer belonged to him.
Eric exchanged for so bandages and wrapped them around his waist and the wounds on his arms.
The bandages had a special effect that prevented infection and accelerated healing, but that was all.
He then began to search for Leif and Hessin among the crowd.
He quickly spotted Leif. Leif’s thigh had been pierced, but he had no other wounds.
But where was Hessin?
Eric scanned the crowd, searching for a long while without finding him. Finally, he spotted Hessin collapsed on the ground near so bushes.
Just like Eric, he was soaked in blood from head to toe.
He lay motionless on the ground, his eyes closed.
Eric rushed over and propped him up.
An arrow was sticking out of the side of his abdon.
"Hessin! Hessin, are you alright?"
"Priest... Sir... I don’t think... I don’t think I’m going to make it."
Hessin opened his eyes, his voice sounding terribly weak.
"Priest, sir... you said... do you think I can... ah, it hurts... can I receive salvation?"
"Of course. Of course. In the na of the almighty Lord, my Lord Christ, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and all our brethren in faith, may you ascend to Heaven, return to the embrace of the Lord of Heaven, and be counted among the righteous."
Eric didn’t use Latin, but rather English, which Hessin could understand.
The light faded from Hessin’s eyes.
Eric sighed and reached out to gently close his eyes.
"Wait, Priest... I... I haven’t finished what I was saying."
Hessin stopped Eric’s hand.
"Whatever it is, just say it. If it’s within my power, I will do it for you."
"The sunset... it’s so beautiful. I rember... that day, running with ADelle as the sun went down... That... that was my lost youth."
Hessin murmured, gazing at the distant sunset.
"I saved... saved up so money to elope with ADelle... Please... please give it to my mother for . It’s hidden in..."
Just as Hessin was about to finish, the light once again faded from his eyes.
"Go in peace."
Eric again reached out to close his eyes.
"Wait, Priest..." Hessin stopped Eric’s hand again.
"What the fuck."
Eric shoved him back onto the ground.
Then he yanked the arrow out of his side.
Hessin clutched his side and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"Aaaah! My stomach! Aaaah, I’m dying...!"
And yet, no blood spurted out.
"What are you screaming for, you little shit? It didn’t even hit you!"
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