XXVIII

                                    

                                          
The deafeningly loud bang and crackle of clashing weapon blades, the sound of cracking shields, along with screams of anger, panic and death, spread throughout the valley and flooded it like water rushing into the sinking hull of a ship. The battle began to turn into chaotic skirmishes in the blink of an eye, taking on different results on different sections of the front. As a result, shrouded in flying dust and mud, the battle formations of both sides undulated, became uneven and unsymmetrical. Chaos reigned on the battlefield and with each passing minute more and more men fell to the ground dead.
            Initially, Magnar tried to flank his opponents with an attack by several of his troops from the north. However, lacking sufficient manpower, his army was defeated in this stretch of fighting and began to retreat westward. It was, however, a nothing-to-nothing advantage for the rebels. These, after an hour of fighting, retreated a good chunk on all other battle lines towards Knut, who continued to watch idly from the height of the hill the struggles of the two warring armies.
            Arguably, Knut now felt like a god who would ultimately decide for himself who would win the war. It was known that, regardless of whom he ultimately decided to support, the deer would become one of the most influential Jarls in Scandinavia once hostilities were over. So for him, it was essentially a spectacle, quite as if Knut were a visitor to an amphitheater watching a reenacted, ancient Greek play during the Dionysia. 
            While the Jarl of the "sunny castle" was just sipping his beer watching the show, his actors were fighting each other to the death. It was the day of the sword, the day of steel that tore the skin of men and women. Which shattered axes, shields and spears. During the course of this ferocious battle, certainly many brave soldiers had already made it to Valhalla, and this was only the beginning. Today, the ancient father Odin will welcome even more men and women to his otherworldly home. 
            Rainer's face and body were already significantly smeared with the blood of his opponents. His powerful two-handed axe now looked more like a scythe held          in its bony hands by death itself, not a wolf. The man knew that if he hadn't met Colin before the fighting began, the rebel forces would have been pushed even further back and the losses would have been much greater than they were now. The discreet information conveyed by the boy that an attack from two sides would not occur until one side had a significant advantage in the battle helped the rebel forces tremendously in their fight against Magnar. As a result, Rainer did not have to split his forces in the eastern and western directions, and thus could focus his attention only on his main opponent.
            All this time, the wolf, fighting more opponents, tried to spot the pointed orange ears of the fox in the crowd of fighting people. However, more hours passed and Rainer did not catch sight of the boy, which began to bother him greatly. His stream of thoughts about the teenager, however, was interrupted every now and then by the need to focus his attention on the next advancing enemy. Since Jarl Magnar's soldiers had received excellent training over the years, they were not easy opponents. Rainer's body was already adorned with numerous scratches, bruises and minor cuts.
            One of Magnar's men even managed to shatter a shield on the man's body, causing him to lose his balance. Rainer, however, was not a rank soldier. He was Scandinavia's most famous warrior, the conqueror of the King of Northumbria. So was he supposed to get himself killed by losing his balance? Of course not.
            Rainer fought with this soldier for a brief moment, then the warrior fell dead with his throat cut from the axe on the ground dotted with crocuses. In the din of battle and this chaos, the wolf reflexively grabbed his forehead with one hand only to discover that he must have a wound on his head due to the impact of his opponent's shield. The man, in a rush of adrenaline, felt no pain at all. He wiped his bloody hand on the thick tunic he now wore and with a quick step began making his way toward the squad led by Olaf.