Shouts filtered out from the fortress, the decoy force formed primarily of Bodil’s maidens having begun their attack on the south gate, and those trapped outside raced toward the east entrance, seeking refuge.
The archers above only shook their heads, their eyes on the tree line where we lurked, expressions grim. I didn’t blame them, for they were few in number, which meant the diversion had worked. Gnut’s spies had told him that I trained with Bodil’s maidens, which meant he believed I was with them and had drawn his forces to meet me at the main gate.
Leaving his arse exposed to the true attack.
“This one,” I heard Snorri say, and I turned to find him pointing at an old oak within the sea of pines. Bjorn dropped his shield, taking hold of the haft of his axe with both hands. With a grunt of effort, he swung, and the tree groaned as the blade of fire dug deep into its flesh. Bjorn wrenched it free, muscles straining, then swung again with unerring aim. A drop of sweat cut a line through the blood smeared across his face as he swung a third time.
The oak moaned its death cry as it slowly toppled, gaining speed as it fell to smash into the open field. Those gathered at the base of the wall screamed in panic, some wisely running away from the fortress, though many remained, pleading to be let in.
I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing their fear. Knowing what it felt like to be descended upon with safety just out of reach. Run, I willed them as Bjorn cut the tree to a manageable length, others moving to wrap rope around the trunk. As they hoisted the ram off the ground, those on the wall called the alarm. Called for reinforcements.
They’d never make it in time.
Feeling as though I watched myself from afar, I took my place next to the ram, Bjorn ahead of me and Bodil behind. My shield was dead weight in my left hand, kept low until we needed it, my magic hidden until the final moment.
“Ahead,” Snorri ordered from where he stood near the front, and those supporting the ram strained with effort as we broke into a slow jog across the field between the forest and the wall. Our feet thundered as we crossed the bridge, and a bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face as I took in the countless sharpened stakes below.
“Shields!” Snorri called as the archers on the wall lifted their weapons, and I lifted my shield, interlocking it with those to either side of me. The air filled with a soft hiss, and a heartbeat later arrows thudded into the shields above our heads. One punched through Bjorn’s shield, the tip stopping just shy of his shoulder, and I had to clench my teeth to keep from calling forth my magic to protect him.
“Hold,” Snorri shouted as if sensing my thoughts. As though he knew I was on the brink of giving myself away. “Hold!”
Someone near the front of the ram screamed, the tree trunk dipping as those holding it stumbled over the man who’d fallen. My stomach twisted as I stepped over the body.
Don’t look down, I ordered myself. Don’t do anything that might make you fall!
“Hold!” Snorri roared as we drew closer, now near enough that I could see the faces of those manning the walls. Their grim determination and fear as they dipped their arrowheads in pitch and set them aflame.
I clenched my teeth as the fiery brands flew toward us, striking our shields. A piece of burning pitch fell through a gap and landed on my wrist, the leather instantly blackening. I hissed, shaking my arm before it could burn through the thick leather. Others were less fortunate, screams rattling my ears.
“Hold!”
Only another dozen paces.
“Hold!”
Ten.
“Now, Freya!” Snorri shouted, and I screamed Hlin’s name.
Magic coursed from my hand, covering first my shield and then Bjorn’s, moving ahead and behind me until all were aglow with silver light.
And not a heartbeat too soon.
The ram slammed into the gate with a boom. But it was nothing compared to the explosion above us. In my periphery, I saw liquid shoot in all directions as my magic repelled what must have been boiling water, steam clouding the air.
“Back!” Everyone shuffled backward at Snorri’s bellow, stumbling over the bodies of two who’d been struck by arrows, and I struggled to keep my footing. Fought to keep my shield in place, for if it separated from the others, they’d lose the protection of my magic.
“Heave!” Snorri roared, and we raced forward again, the ram swinging on the ropes slung between a dozen men. With each pass, warriors fell to arrows, the ground turning to an obstacle-filled slurry. It was chaos. My breath came in desperate pants as I focused on where I stepped, my feet sliding in the muck.