Uphill Battle

Once the scouting parties were formed, they immediately set out to find anything around them worth attacking. Jon was not chosen to go ahead and scout, as he was still green. As the scouting parties went on their ways, the 5 Jarls stood on a large rock, near the base of the cliffs. Hearing a horn sound off from around the Jarls, all eyes turned to look at them.

The Jarls began to call men by name to join their guard. As men began shuffling by, many cheers were heard between names, as no man on the beach was silent, it looked like even the Jarls were cheering along with their men. Jon began to feel good, the energy in the crowd was electrifying and he could not wait for his first taste of battle.

As the 5 Jarls finished calling men to their guard, they began dividing men into large groups of about 100 men each. Each group had a leader, these men were given a number as this would be the row they lined up their group in for marching and for combat. Jon was in a group with his father, who was assigned as the leader of the group. He was beside Jon the whole time, never letting him leave his side. They were assigned the number 4, meaning there were 300 men in front of them and almost 1200 more men behind them.

Jon prayed to see combat, and got his wish as his group was towards the back of the first group of men to rush the field of battle. Knowing this Jon felt a mix of anxiety and excitement his stomach turning while the rest of his body was buzzing with excitement.

With nothing else to do, Jon began helping the men unload the ship he was on. He was in a long chain of men, who were passing boxes of supplies along to the beach. This was very tiring work and Jon could feel his arms burning. He was happy when the work was finished as now, they needed to build tents and fires to sleep and cook. This took far less time and was very easy. Night had fallen and no scouts had returned yet, which was to be expected as the plan was just to land far enough away from everything that way no one saw them approaching. Everyone was relaxed and drank and sang and ate together. Only a few fights broke out, but they were only scuffles with fists and no one was killed.

As day broke, everyone was getting up and starting to cook. Almost befter his little camping group had finished breakfast a horn sounded, all eyes were on the Jarls again as they needed the undivided attention of the army. Jarl Svygard Bjornsson, the Jarl of Jon's area, began to speak to the horde of men. "Early this morning 3 of the 5 groups of forward scouts returned, they saw nothing in the directions they went. One group returned and said they saw a small village to the South West of our camp. One group of scouts has not returned yet. We will wait for them, but start to make ready to march. Load the wagons and pack your mules. Today... WE MARCH!!!"

With the last few words a roar echoed from the beach they were on, almost sure his mother and sisters could hear the excited cries of these men all the way back home.

As soon as the last scouting party returned, the horns immediately sounded off. The Jarls explained that only one man had returned, they ran into a larger force of fighters and he was the only one able to escape. The estimated number of enemies was around 200 men and they were close, marching towards the beach.

As another horn sounded up on the cliff, the men knew this meant enemies were coming and were within earshot. Every man there was starting back to their own camps to grab their weapons and shields. Scrambling back to his camp, Jon grabbed his bow and magic quiver, as well as his sword and shield. Making himself ready, Jon stayed next to his father's side.

3 horns blew one after another as Raska told Jon this meant to form up. Following his father's lead, Jon found a spot next to his father and a middle aged man with long, silver streaked, braided hair. No one made a sound as the horde of Northmen moved forward. As they were marching up the slope, suddenly the enemy appeared at the top of the path.

Locking shields, the men of the Golden Isles stood shoulder to shoulder in a line, holding the top of the hill. Not willing to let the small force of men get the better of the horde, the 2nd and 3rd groups split off and began to march in opposite directions, led by a Jarl. The goal was to attack the enemy from 3 sides and kill them all, leaving no survivors to warn the villages of the imminent danger. These 200 men were brave, as they held the top of the hill, cold eyes staring at the massive horde of Northmen.

As Jon's cohort moved forward they also formed a line of shields. Just as they did this, arrows began to fall on them.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

The noise was everywhere, all around him, like hail stones hitting the roof of his home. The group of 500 men pushed up the hill slowly, giving the other cohorts time to get into position. After almost 20 minutes of slowly pushing up, only a handful of men had died, all Northmen. Their bodies were scattered on the hillside, as arrows continued to rain on them. Suddenly, 2 horns sounded at the same time and the battle was about to begin, however it would only be a small warmup for what was about to come.

Thunk!

Suddenly an arrow landed on the shield of the man next to him and he screamed as blood was dripping from his forearm. The arrow pierced the shield and his chain mail and went right through his arm. The man pulled the arrow from his arm with an angry grunt, snapped it in half and cursed at the top of his lungs at the bastard that shot him.

Besieged from all sides and outnumbered more than 5 to 1, some men on the hill started to break ranks and run in the direction the came in. Some of the men were able to leave the lines, but most were shot dead by the Northmen as they were dropping their shields and turning to run. This made the rest of the Golden Isles men stand firm in their shield wall, knowing they were going to die, they were going to fight with everything they had to take as many Northern bastards down with them. The Golden Isles men began to shout and chant in a language Jon did not know. When Jon's group was almost 50 yards away, the 2 groups flanking the Golden Isles men, stopped shooting at them and began to run, full speed towards the outnumbered enemy.