“What do you want?” one of them shouted from the valley floor. Björn did not answer. The man repeated his question and still Björn did not respond. Neither he nor the horse moved.
The three figures climbed the road and when they stood in front of the pair, the man in the center repeated his question. “What do you want?”
After a tense silence, the Northlander answered. “If all of you leave now, taking only the clothes you wear, we will let you live.”
The robed men started, and the man on the right blurted, “Where is your army?”
“We are the army,” Björn replied.
The men stared at him, then the one in the center signaled the other two with his head and they drew their swords. Showing they were well trained, they lunged at him in unison, but before any of them could land a blow, Björn caught the wrist of the center man, preventing his weapon from doing damage. Still holding the man’s arm firmly, Björn whirled and planted a violent kick in the stomach of the man nearest the edge of the road, sending him flying to the rocks below. Lifting the man into the air and using his body like a club, he struck the third man with such force that he was knocked from the road to join his partner on the rocks.
Björn returned the man to his feet, but still held him fast.
“I will let you live for now,” he said. “Return to the castle and give your priests my message. Leave the castle with only the clothes on your backs before the sun sets and you will live. If not, you will all die here.”
Björn released the man with a shove that sent him staggering down the road. Recovering his balance, the man turned and ran across the valley to the castle.
A short time later, a dozen men in the same dark cloaks marched out of the castle and stood under the trees on a small plateau next to the castle, watching the man and horse. Björn was still for a few moments, then he stepped to the horse and removed the long bow and two arrows. Notching an arrow in the bow, he took aim and let the arrow fly. One man fell, kicked for a few moments, and then lay still. The others looked at him for a few seconds, and then turned to flee into the castle. Another man was felled by an arrow before they reached shelter. Then all was silent.
Björn and Jago stood as before, watching the castle. Later that afternoon, thirty dark-robed men emerged from the castle. They trotted three abreast down the steep slope from the castle, across the valley, and up the road toward Björn. They marched silently, swords raised. Without breaking stride, they approached at a trot in perfect unison. Up the road they came to within thirty yards of Björn and the horse. Only then did Björn move.
He drew his two swords and grunted a rough short sound. “Jago.” The horse flew past him and charged the armed men. Leaping into the air, Jago executed a perfect capriole, striking with his hind hooves. Two men fell instantly from the blows, and then another toppled under strikes from its front hooves before the horse hit the ground. The horse charged into the center of the men, his feet again leaving the ground and striking two men with his front hooves. Twisting in mid-air, he struck two others with his rear hooves. The sound of bones shattering almost drowned out the screams of terror.
The tightly grouped men broke into total disarray. Struggling to escape the horse, the men violently jostled each other, and some on the outside were knocked off the road to fall screaming to the rocks below, ending their screams abruptly.
Björn charged into the disorganized mass. His swords flashed, and heads flew from bodies while torsos were impaled. Jago continued his savage assault, and the robed men attempting to flee were trapped in the chaos. A few attempted to fight back, but they were helplessly off balance. The attack was over in moments. Bodies were strewn on the road and others were broken on the rocks in the valley. Screams, groans, pleas for help, and struggling movements came from those still alive.
The two victors ignored their victims, passing through the gore to the bottom of the road. There they resumed their silent vigil.
The sun passed behind the mountains, and darkness fell quickly. There was no moon and, as night took control of the valley, it grew dark, so dark a person might reach out to touch the blackness.
The two figures moved silently across the valley to the outer walls of the castle and listened, sensing sounds and movements within the castle. Björn touched Jago’s neck, and the horse trotted away toward the entrance of the castle, moving unnoticed and stood motionless near the massive front door.
Björn headed stealthily in the opposite direction to the ruined section of the rambling structure. Picking his way carefully through the destroyed walls, he moved like an invisible spirit. Coming to a corridor still open, he entered cautiously. Once inside, he carefully leaned his bow and arrows against the wall and, drawing one sword, he moved warily into the castle.
The interior of the fortress was darker even than the complete darkness outside, but Björn, eyes trained to maneuver in any environment, moved as if he were in broad daylight. The corridor was long and straight, but it was filled and in some places almost blocked by fallen stones, but the Northlander made his way with little difficulty.
The corridor led into the portion of the castle that had suffered least from the years and weather. This part was apparently occupied by the intruders. The passageway ended at a thick door that effectively blocked further progress. Björn studied it, then felt gingerly over the entire surface with his hands.
Finally, he grasped one section of the door that was broken by the weight of a stone that had shifted above it, and gave it a gradual pull. At first it did not move, so Björn braced one foot against the door frame and pulled again. The door groaned loudly and the broken section began to move. Exerting even more pressure, Björn opened the cracked section of the door until the cleared space was large enough for him to pass through.
Twisting his body, he slipped into another passageway. A flickering light appeared in the distance, but Björn continued his forward progress exactly as he had in the darkness.
After advancing a distance, he heard voices and paused to peer around a corner. Three guards a short span away from him were arguing. They appeared spooked, and Björn guessed that they had heard his attack on the door. One wanted to investigate, another claimed it was only the sound of a rock falling, and the third could not decide what they should do. Björn crept noiselessly toward them.
The discussion eventually abated and the decision became one of doing nothing. The guards remained at their posts with occasional short conversation. While it appeared they took their guarding seriously, they were not on high alert.
Björn waited. He was very good at waiting.
The guards grew quiet, and Björn heard snoring. One of the guards kicked the snoring one, and a second short argument ensued. Then it was quiet again.
Björn continued to wait in silence. The snoring resumed and this time was not interrupted. Björn moved warily down the corridor, a shadow. When he reached the sleeping guards, there was a short struggle and the sound of throats gasping for air. Then Björn moved on, and the bloody scenario was repeated throughout the night. Björn detected men before they were aware of him and then quietly and efficiently dispatched them.
He found a room where many men slept, concluding it was some type of dormitory. Passing it by, he twice more came upon rooms filled with sleeping men, and again crept silently past them.
Discovering a small room dimly lit by a flickering torch, he found three females huddled on the floor. When the two women and a young girl saw him, they clutched each other in terror and drew as far from him as possible. Both women were without clothing and the girl was clothed only in wisps of fabric.
Björn crouched just inside the door and spoke to them softly, reassuring them until they were calm. He moved slowly to them and held out his hand. After a time, one woman took his hand. Motioning to the others, he led them from the room, guiding them down the halls to the place where he had entered the castle. Standing outside in the darkness with only light coming from the stars overhead, he pointed the way for them to take to reach their village. As