ABOVE THE ROAR of voices and the clash of weapons, Hagan heard the sound of signal horns blowing frantic warnings.
The Visigoths’ line started at the edge of the plain where a steep ridge rose, protecting their right flank. The Alliance line then continued across the plain along the bottom of the slope that led down from the Roman camp. The Visigoths had stretched almost halfway across the plain, then came the Burgundars, then the Alans in the centre of the line. Beyond them were the Saxons, Franks, Romans and Armoricans.
Now the Alans were galloping hard away from the battlefield, leaving a gap right in the centre of the line.
The Hun cavalry had not failed to notice this and now pounded in a long wedge formation straight for the hole. Their signal horns blasted and banners waved and bobbed as they charged.
Hagan felt a chill run down his spine. If the Huns could get through the gap in the line they could turn and – now behind their defensive shield wall – attack the flanks and rear of the Alliance warriors in the now divided Alliance lines. With the Ostrogoths pressing in front and the Huns attacking from the side and then rear, the Burgundars and Visigoths would be cut off from the rest of the army, surrounded and then finished off.
King Theodoric had seen the danger as well.
‘Wheel to the left!’ he shouted, grabbing hold of one of the signaller’s nearby. ‘Sound the order.’
The signaller raised his horn and began to blow a series of loud blasts.
As the Burgundars were now at the left end of the shield line, they were in most immediate danger. The urgency of the present danger drove Hagan’s thirst and weariness away and he ran back to the ranks of the Bear Warriors.
‘Wheel left! Wheel left!’ he shouted to the men in the third rank as he ran along it, thumping their shoulders and pulling them to the left. ‘The Alans have run away. Pass it on.’
The Hun cavalry was pouring into the gap in the lines already, shooting arrows left and right. On the far side the Roman line was already starting to rotate to keep their shield wall facing the enemy.
With agonising slowness, the Burgundar and Visigoth line began to move as well. It was not easy. The Ostrogoths were still pressing their attack on the shield wall so warriors had to continue to defend themselves while starting to take steps backward and to the left.
Hagan could see they were not moving fast enough. It would not be long before the Huns were swarming around their flank and riding in behind them.
He looked around. The rest of the Visigoth line was managing to move but they were just as slow. What had once been a single continuous shield line stretching across the plain was now starting to resemble a V, broken in the middle.
‘Stand firm, my warriors!’ King Theodoric cried. ‘Fight hard. Show these bastard Easterners who are the true Goths! Don’t let them—’
He never finished the sentence. An Ostrogoth spear came sailing over the shield wall and pierced his throat. The great leaf-shaped blade erupted from the back of his neck in a spray of blood. The old king, eyes wide in surprise, open and closed his mouth for a moment but all that came out was a gush of crimson gore. Then he dropped to his knees and fell to the earth.
A moment later a great cry arose from further along the line as someone in the front rank lost their footing and fell, pulling those around him down with him. The Ostrogoths surged forward and fell as well. Soon there was a mass of men sprawled on the ground, intertwined but desperate to extract themselves from each other, still trying to fight with frantic hacks and stabs. All three ranks of the Ostrogoth line at that section fell over, each man knocking the man behind him over. At the very back the body of the king was trampled underfoot and disappeared under the other falling bodies.
Hagan’s heart sank. The Burgundars’ shield wall was intact but now detached from the rest of the Visigoth line by the mass of fallen men. It would not be long before they were surrounded and massacred. No amount of bravery, skill or training could save them from the overwhelming numbers of attackers.
The sound of a horn blaring out a series of staccato blasts rose over the cacophony. It was obvious this was some sort of signal but Hagan did not know what it meant. He glanced around and saw that it was Wodnas who was blowing the horn.
In response, the Burgundar warriors tensed and stopped shifting left.
‘Ready?’ the man at the far left called.
‘Yes,’ the others shouted back.
‘Three, two, one, go!’ the first man yelled.
Almost as one, the Bear Warriors shoved their shields forward. At the same time they stepped back. The two ranks behind them fell back, turned and ran. The front rank, now with no one behind them, spun around and did the same. The Ostrogoths they had been pushing against were taken by surprise. One moment the Burgundars had been pushing against them with all their might. The next they were gone. Some Ostrogoths stumbled forwards onto their shields. Others staggered sideways.
Hagan, equally surprised, just had time to turn and run after the others otherwise he would have found himself surrounded by the enemy. It was obvious that the Burgundars were executing a well-planned, much practised move. The only problem for Hagan was that had not been part of those practice sessions.
The Burgundars ran as fast as they could, making the most of the brief time they had before the Ostrogoths recovered and ran after them. If they did, it would be all over. The end of the shield wall was gone and the enemy could outflank the rest of it.
The Bear Warriors ran back but then skidded to a halt. They reformed their line as they did so, creating a new shield wall at right-angles to the existing one, from the end of the Visigoth line to the bottom of the steep slope that rose up to the ridge behind them. In doing so they sealed off the way that the Huns and the Ostrogoths could use to get behind the Alliance lines. The bottom of the ridge was too steep at that point to climb up without great difficulty.
They made it just in time. Moments after they set their shields together, the jumbled mass of Ostrogoths on foot and Huns on horseback crashed into them. Hagan had ended up at the rear again. He felt the impact of the charge and shoved his shoulder into the man in front of him, lending his weight to help keep the enemy back. There was still a contingent of Roman archers behind the Visigoths, now cut off from their fellows. They began raining arrows down on the enemy warriors.
The new shield wall held. After a time the Huns, realising there was no way to outflank the Visigoths after all and taking casualties from arrows and spears, extracted themselves from the crush of men and rode off across the plain to attack the Roman lines.
Hagan, feet braced in the dirt and shoving with all his might to keep the shield wall from moving back, felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and to his surprise saw Gunfjaun the raven warrior standing behind him. The young lad cocked his head towards Wodnas, who sat a little further back on his horse.
While he had no doubt his weight helped the men at the front, Hagan was under no illusion that if he left it the shield wall would collapse. He nodded to Gunfjaun and they both jogged over to join Wodnas. The usually impassive old man had a look of concern on his face.
‘That was a great move,’ Hagan said. ‘I take it you taught them that? It saved us.’
‘It may have been for nothing,’ Wodnas said. ‘I’m not sure how long the Visigoths can continue to hold out. If the Huns start diverting men from attacking the Romans to join the Ostrogoths attacking us here they’ll outnumber us many to one. Look for yourself.’
He gestured with his spear to the piles of dead and wounded who lay behind the Visigoth shield wall.
‘They’ve lost a lot of men. It’s been a long, hot day,’ Wodnas said. ‘They’re exhausted.’
‘It’s been the same day for the enemy,’ Hagan said.
‘The enemy hasn’t lost their king,’ Wodnas said. ‘When word of Theodoric’s death gets around it will take the heart from his warriors. Will they go on fighting? Meanwhile the Huns continue to wear down our numbers with their arrows.’
‘All the more reason I should be helping back at the shield wall then,’ Hagan said. There was anger in his voice. ‘Did you pull me over here just to tell me you think we’re going to lose?’
‘My Raven Warriors have been ranging around the battlefield, fighting where needed, scouting elsewhere,’ Wodnas said. ‘Gunfjaun and some others were on the ridge behind us. He says there is a contingent of Hun cavalry approaching the ridge from the other side. If they get up there they can get down this side and attack our rear here. Then it really will be all over. Someone needs to get up there and stop them. The job really needs cavalry and I’ve sent for some but they will need warriors on foot to support them. The Bear Warriors and my Ravens are perfect for this sort of fight so I want you to lead some of them up there. Try to get to the top before the Huns and if you do, try and hold them until the cavalry arrive to drive them off.’
‘By taking men away you’ll weaken the shield wall,’ Hagan said.
‘I’ve thought it through,’ Wodnas said, patting the leather satchel he carried everywhere. ‘It’s a risk worth taking. Either we make sure we take the ridge or have the Huns coming down on us from behind.’
Hagan remembered the old man talking to whatever was in the satchel while trying to decide if the Burgundars should join this alliance or not. Was he mad? Had all their fates been decided by the choices of some crazy old man who talked to a bag?
‘In the meantime I’m going to try to make things harder for the Huns,’ Wodnas said. ‘If they can’t see us they can’t attack us.’
‘You’re going to blind them?’ Hagan said, frowning. Was this further evidence of the old man’s madness?
‘In a way, yes,’ Wodnas said. ‘If the Huns can continue to ride freely across the plains, hitting the Romans then us, shooting arrows and riding away again, then I believe Attila can win. Gunfjaun and some of the others are going to start setting fires. The grass is dry as a bone and will burn easily. If we’re inside a cloud of smoke the Huns won’t know what they are shooting at.’
Crazy or not, there was some reason to what Wodnas said. The old man’s concerned expression told Hagan the situation was indeed perilous. He nodded.
‘I know you will succeed in this,’ Wodnas said. ‘You’re a lucky man. I knew that from the first time I saw you.’
‘Lucky?’ Hagan said. ‘I don’t feel very lucky.’
‘Think of how many times you should already be dead and perhaps you will change your mind,’ Wodnas said, his enigmatic smile returning. ‘May your luck hold now, for all our sakes. You will need it.’