Harun sat in the castle, with his advisors. His face was dark and sad. No one dared to make a sound before he spoke. It was something they had learnt after Ali's death. Harun since the loss three weeks ago had been depressed. The wound on his hand was so severe that he could never wield a sword properly again and the death of Ali was a massive loss to not only his war effort but the Sultanate as a whole.
Mansa's march along the northern highway had made getting supplies harder, but he knew that the man had to stop soon. It was one of the reasons he wasn't sending his army north with Nasr's retreat back across the great river. His confidence was shattered.
Not allowing himself to look too weak in front of his men Harun spoke, "We must consolidate our forces. Mansa continues to torment the North but will soon be met by one of our great forts. He will probably stop upon seeing it and fall back, but if not he is a good defence for the coming Grand Prince. We know that he is making moves across the border. If Mansa meets him, he will happily cease his war effort to deal with it." Despite trying to look powerful and in control, he spoke with a grim voice. The Grand Prince's movements were the main reason why didn't make a move on him yet, knowing he was a helpful ally in the coming battle..
"Have all the men ready to move tomorrow. We have rested enough here and they need to find a reason to continue to fight." Harun gave his orders, walking off. His advisors gave a bow, as they planned the coming days. Walking to his room, he threw himself on the bed. Covering his eyes he let out an exhausted sigh.
Helga stood behind her father. Their forces stared down the next castle in their way. Unlike before, it was prepared, men stood on the walls with bows aimed at them and a caldron hovered over the gates. Word had obviously spread of their invasion and they all knew that resistance was going to be fiercer now.
Despite this, the thousands of warriors standing around the walls was an intimidating sight to the defenders. They looked at the bloodthirsty warriors scared, but defiant. With a chopped tree being brought through the ranks, they charged at the gate, ramming it into it. The horde circled the walls, raising makeshift ladders, to scale it.
The cauldron tipped dropping oil over the ram. With a lit arrow, the fire went ablaze. men and women screamed in agony as they felt their skin melt. The smoke rose into the air creating a horrid stench of burning flesh, that stuck to the fleeing soldier and castle walls. Arrows rained down on those running at and away from the wall, and ladders fell with people climbing them. Despite the small amount of defenders, they valiantly defended the castle.
Helga watched this, nodding in approval. She knew that there had to be some truth to the tales of old and seeing how the small force held off against their horde she could see a glimpse of it. That being said, she watched as her warriors fled from the ram, terrified of the sudden fire. Clicking her tongue in annoyance she ran forward, shield raised, blocking the arrow fire.
"YOU COWARDS!" Her voice spread across the field. "YOU FEAR A LITTLE FIRE AND FLEE! THOSE OF YOU WHO WISHED TO MEET THE GODS IN DEATH HELP ME!" Calling to those behind her, they looked at each other, disgusted they needed Helga to tell them that, running over to help her. The burning smell assaulted her nose but she brushed it off not caring about such minor issues.
Frode saw this as a chance to impress her, running across the field, not bothering to use a shield to defend himself. He watched Helga's back, her actions reinforcing she was the only one worthy to be his wife. Pulling his axe, he swung into the wooden gate, not caring about the raging fire below him. He cut away at it, trying to ease the ram's ability going forward.
Helga with the help of six others lifted the tree, walking back and running into the gate. The fire raged below them, but uncaring about the pain they looked at Helga's unfazed face as she focused intently on the gate. Arrows fell from above, but any killed were quickly replaced, as more joined the attack. Some threw their bodies at the gate trying to help whilst others joined Frode and hit it with their weapons.
The gate creaked under the bombardment of the attack. Helga could see it was about to break. "ONCE MORE!" She shouted down the line, as they walked further back. Taking a long run-up, they slammed the tree into the gate. The wooden board from behind, creaked loudly, as they walked back once more. Running into the gate once more, an explosion rang out as the gate no longer could withstand the pressure.
Seeing inside, a line of men waited for them, swords raised. They feared seeing the attackers but knew they couldn't surrender after hearing stories of the nearby villages and towns. They would rather die killing as many of them than meekly as a captive. Helga was the first to charge in. Throwing her shield at the defenders, she drew her sword, jumping at them like a fierce beast.
Leaping into them, she plunged her sword deep into the man's neck. A sword tried falling on her, quickly being blocked by a shield from behind. Seeing the gate fall, the men on the walls quickly ran down to provide support. They knew the fort was lost now, but they had no choice other than to fight to the death.
Those attacking looked at their leaders with amazement, imagining the tales and songs that would be created about them in the future. They watched them when they didn't have to focus on the situation in front.
Frode, swung his battle axe with fury, cutting down numerous men at once with each swing. With each bit of blood spilt he craved battle more, getting more excited. Any wound created was brushed aside. Truly berserk his smile grew wider with each attack, as he madly fought. Both enemy and ally making sure to keep their distance.
Erik towered over the guards, expertly, fighting numerous at once. His axes blocked attacks that seemed unblockable and found gaps in the defences that the guards didn't know existed. His body was free of wounds, not allowing a single blade or arrow to touch him.
Knut was normal, fighting like a trained soldier who mastered his craft. He blocked with his shield when necessary and stabbed when necessary, never wasting a movement. It was boring to view but effective, evident by the bodies around him.
Halfdan was different. He used his height to his advantage, disappearing from the eye line of the defenders who focused on those taller and in front. He would slip through, killing from below, those who died never truly understanding how they did. Anyone who caught him, and engaged found themselves played with like a mouse in front of a cat, as he walked around each attack, finding an opening. Much like Erik, his body was free of wounds.
Despite all this, many eyes fell on Helga who fought as if a God of War had descended. With a sword in one hand and an axe in another. Covered in blood and bodies around, many were afraid to approach her but did, wishing to cut down the beast that she was. Her axe would lodge itself in the chest of one man, whilst her sword blocked an attack from another.
The battle was quick and brutal, no one was left alive after it was over. Limbs and bodies were sprawled all over the floor, as blood pooled on the ground. Helga pulled her sword from the neck of the dead man, wiping the blood off it with her arm, and returning it to her hilt. She looked back at the warriors and bannerman that stood around the battlefield.
They looked at her with reverence. A wide smile split her face looking at them stare at her. She could see the worship in their eyes and knew that they thought of her as a God. There was no way she could be wrong about it. She was a God bound. She was the God Summoner. They wished to follow her. They knew she was the one to lead them to greatness.
Erik came up, next to his daughter. Raising his axe in the air, he shouted "Let us celebrate this victory with a feast. Dedicate our triumph to the Gods." The men and women cheered in response to his call for a feast as they felt their stomachs rumble from the fighting. They quickly scavenged the bodies for things like boots, valuables and weapons
Whilst those who looked at Erik did so with joy, Helga was different, she looked at her father with cold eyes. Once more he stole her glory. Their worship was now redirected away from her. The triumph that she led them to, is now given to the Gods. She was the one who charged to the gate when others ran from the fire and rallied the people behind her to attack once more. Why did the glory have to be given to someone else? It was a chance to boost both her and his prestige.
Erik looked down and Helga and smiled, getting a quick change in emotion from her as she smiled back, with a loving smile. Putting his arm around her, he led her away, loudly talking "You did good out there, but you must be careful. We are not immortal and you are the future of my Jarldom." Tapping her back he continued, "Despite that, you proved your bravery and for that, the Gods will honour you." Erik said with a laugh, getting a light smile from her in return.
Helga remained silent, however, keeping the soft smile plastered on her face. From behind she heard Knut, ordering the people to find any type of siege weapon that could be used, whilst Frode ordered to find gold and silver. Halfdan, sat cleaning his weapons, unbothered by everything. Men and women gave small offerings to the wooden carvings they created of the gods. She looked at her father in annoyance.
Whilst others ordered the people, he led her away. Even if she didn't do it, he had to order the people to do something less his authority slips. Then her eyes fell on those taking on religious roles. She was the one in charge of religious ceremonies and offerings now, yet he was not letting her do it after the battle, letting others take the role. A seed of hate sprouted. She was uncertain of it before but now she was sure. He was undermining her. Taking her away and not letting her do what she had to.
Was he jealous of her, or was it something else? Helga didn't know. Despite this, she knew to follow her father quietly for now. She couldn't look spoilt or like an unfaithful daughter in front of her future people and silently follow behind. There were still many battles ahead that would let her get more support from the others.