Chapter 3

‘Listen to your women’ was an old saying. Diana and Sigrid came out of the hut about the same time I too approached.

Both greeted the new arrivals as if they we old friends or family.

“Hail Ingrid and you too Lars. My you must have lost a stone since last we met. How is your mother Ingrid? Thank you for coming, We would have you meet our intended but last night we became more than that so we are all family now.”

From Ingrid. “Your words match your hair and garb cousin. They are as silver as you appear. Freya remains Freya. I do hope it was necessary for me to appear. By what name is the man?”

“He is Regan. We both have made him ours. I would think by end of this first battle there will be a significant number for you and our father for when you return. We must remain for many more will have to fall soon.”

“Aye, cousin. It will be good to see Odin’s hall filled again.”

That was all the pleasantry we had. Lars and I said nothing but in listening much became clear. These girls had been to battle before, many times before. If only a small portion of myths and legend were true, my wives were right, ‘Victory was assured with Ingrid here’.

It was several hours before our troops were seen streaming back to our camp. From the look on their faces, those mounts were of the same ilk as Shane. If their rides were like my ride on Shane, I had only to imagine that there would be no immediate pursuit of these men. We had some time before the battle; for this was only a battle. In saying that I look back and wish I had known how many more there were to be in this war.

Most of the tasks my men were assigned were complete or nearly so, one or two were not. A large table and another hut, this for Ingrid I surmised. In the distance the sound of drums and horns preceded the falling of horse’s hooves approaching the clearing.

‘Yes, so the enemy finally arrives’, I thought. It was too early for an exact count but from the early reports my estimate of a thousand seemed to be in order. My earlier doubt returned; ‘How might we ever prevail in a bout with a thousand men, let alone those who would invariably follow. Five thousand men had already been defeated.’

While the fast cavalry lined up right and left, the first of the foot appeared followed by several score of bowmen and slingers. As expected the last to arrive were the cataphract. With banners flowing in the wind their obvious leader came.

‘Were we prepared?’ I wondered. That thought could be easily answered since we had done nothing but dig a few holes and erect a stone marker or two. I recalled, ‘Phase three would be Ingrid’s’.