HAGAN JOGGED UP the slope. He and thirty of the Bear Warriors ran as fast as they could, desperate to get to the top before the Huns.
He felt as if his mail shirt was weighing down his shoulders, making every breath of the hot air an effort. His thighs burned and sweat stung his eyes. His battered shield, slung over his shoulder, bounced and bumped his back with every step. The rim of his iron helmet dug into his forehead and the back of his neck.
The ridge that ran along the side of the plains had a long, gradual slope on one end and a much sharper drop at the other so it looked like a great whale, rising from the sea.
Hagan and the others were climbing the steep end. It was a shorter distance, but much harder work. The terrain of the ridge was rocky and covered with scrub and grass like the plains below, all of which made the going tougher.
It did not take them too long to make it to the top however, and when they did Hagan was relieved to see the Huns were not already there. Panting, he unlaced his helmet and took it off, wiping away the sweat that ran freely from his brow. The ground on the top of the ridge consisted of a short plateau scarred with gullies filled with brush and other hardy bushes. After their breathing returned to somewhere close to normal he and the others loped their way across the top of the ridge to the edge of the plateau and looked down the long slope that led to the Hun encampment.
There were indeed horsemen making their way up the hill. About fifteen scouts dressed in light armour were riding hard, ahead of a much larger band of armed heavy horsemen. They were on the back side of the ridge and out of sight of the army in the plain below.
‘Sneaky bastards,’ the Bear Warrior who stood nearby commented.
‘Let’s give them the welcome they deserve,’ Hagan said.
He told the others his plan then ordered them to find hiding places, crouching in the gullies or behind bushes, then they waited for the Hun scouts to arrive. Hagan himself found refuge behind a large boulder near the end of the plateau.
As they waited for the enemy to arrive, Hagan caught the whiff of burning in the air. He glanced towards the plain and saw long tendrils of grey smoke begin to creep towards the sky. It mixed with the clouds of dust kicked up by Hun cavalry riding this way and that. Wodnas’ fire-setting plan had begun.
The sun was starting to sink in the sky and to his amazement he heard the chirp of birds that were flitting around the top of the ridge. The plains below were now scattered with the corpses of dead men and horses. The din of the battle continued but up here it was nowhere near as deafening. Hagan closed his eyes, enjoying this brief moment of peace and rest – however short it proved to be – in what had been an exhausting, brutal day.
The noise of hoofbeats broke Hagan’s reverie and he pressed himself against the back of the boulder, drawing his francisca throwing axe from his belt. He did not dare look over the top of rock. To do so would give away his position, so he resolved to wait and try to judge by sound when the scouts were all on the plateau and in the trap.
He heard the sound of more horses coming and the shouts of the Huns calling to each other. He could not understand their words but the tone of them suggested they were delighted to find the top of the ridge empty of their enemy, or so they thought.
When he judged he had waited enough, Hagan rose from behind his rock.
‘Now!’ he shouted and the others all rose from their hiding places as well.
Hagan just had time to see most of the Hun scouts had made it onto the top of the ridge. They glared, startled and frozen by the sudden appearance of warriors all around them.
Hagan picked the nearest one and hurled his francisca at him. The axe tumbled through the air, making a whooping noise like the beating wings of a swan. It crunched into the Hun’s chest, its blade slicing through the man’s light leather armour and cleaving through his ribs deep into his chest beyond. The Hun cried out and tumbled backwards off his horse.
The other Bear Warriors also rose from their hiding places and threw their own axes. The scouts did not stand a chance. Some were hit by two axes at once. In a moment eight of them had fallen from their saddles. They had barely hit the ground when other Burgundars swarmed around them and finished them off.
Two of the remaining scouts raised their bows and sought targets. Hagan could see the panic on their faces. The Bear Warriors were scattered all around and moving fast. It would look to the Huns like they were coming from every direction at once. The Huns had to pick a target and take careful aim, which in turn delayed their shots.
Hagan was already charging at the nearest enemy, his shield held before him, spear in the other hand. One of the Huns saw him coming and levelled his bow at him. Hagan crouched as he ran so only the top half of his head, which was protected by his helmet, was visible above his shield rim.
The Hun lowered his bow, switching to aim at Hagan’s lower legs. Hagan leapt forward as the man shot. The Hun’s arrow thudded into the rocky ground where Hagan’s right foot had been an instant before. The shaft shattered on impact. The Hun now had no time to notch another arrow and shoot before Hagan got to him. The Hun dropped his bow and reached for his sword. He had just grasped the hilt when Hagan drove his spear into the man’s guts. The Hun let out a high-pitched cry, doubling over as the spear punched through him and burst from the centre of his back. The man flew backwards out of his saddle, wrenching the spear embedded in his body from Hagan’s grasp as he did so.
A Bear Warrior to Hagan’s right cried out and fell over, an arrow transfixing his shoulder. Hagan, his spear gone, had a knife and sword but no time to draw them before the Hun notched another arrow. He turned his shield sideways, took it in both hands and hurled it at the second Hun archer. The round shield spun through the air. The Hun was looking to his right and already drawing his bow to shoot another arrow. He never saw the shield coming. Its metal rim smashed into the man’s right cheek, splitting the skin and smashing his teeth into pieces. His head rocked wildly to the left then he dropped his bow and toppled from his saddle. As he hit the ground two Bear Warriors fell on him and cut his throat.
Hagan looked around. Others of the Berh Herjass had killed two more of the Huns. The remaining three enemy had just been arriving at the top when Hagan had sprung the trap so had just time to wheel their horses. They were now galloping away back down the way they had come.
The Burgundars on the hilltop cheered. They all rushed to the edge of the plateau and looked down. Seeing their scouts – or at least three of them – galloping hard as they could back down the ridge, the main Hun cavalry contingent had stopped and now waited for the surviving scouts to rejoin them. It was not a large force, but still easily outnumbered the Burgundars on the plateau at the top of the ridge.
‘What do we do now?’ a Bear Warrior said. ‘They know we’re up here now. We can’t take the rest of them by surprise.’
‘Well, if I was one of those scouts,’ Hagan said, ‘I wouldn’t want my comrades thinking I’d just panicked and run away from a small band of tired, thirsty men like we are. I’d be down there telling my mates that half the Roman army is up here, which hopefully will put the rest of them off. Even if they tell them the truth I doubt those three had time to see how many of us there actually were. With any luck the rest of them will give up on the idea of coming up the ridge. At least until they can get more men. No one wants to attack a well-defended hilltop. Fighting uphill in this heat? No thank you.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ the Burgundar said.
‘Let’s try and make sure,’ Hagan said. ‘Everyone over to the edge of the plateau. Someone grab those loose horses and get on them. Let’s make them think we have cavalry up here too.’
Hagan took hold of one of the Hun horses himself and pulled himself into the saddle. Then he rode back to the edge of the plateau.
‘Try and make yourself look as big as you can,’ he said to the others. ‘They are looking up the slope. There’s no way of them telling how many are standing behind us up here.’
‘But there’s no one standing behind us?’ one of the other warriors said, a puzzled expression on his face.
‘They won’t know that,’ Hagan said. ‘They can’t judge our true numbers from below.’
‘Will they really fall for this?’ one of the warriors said.
‘I hope so,’ Hagan said. ‘Otherwise we’re all dead.’
The Burgundars all began shouting and waving their spears. Some battered their shields with sword hilts or spear butts. Hagan and the others on the horses wheeled them around, sometimes rearing up on their back legs and generally putting on a fine show.
After a little time the Huns down the slope did indeed turn around and began trooping off back towards their own lines.
‘They bought it!’ one of the Bear Warriors said, grinning and looking at Hagan with new admiration.
‘Sometimes you can win a fight without actually fighting,’ Hagan said. ‘I’m surprised Wodnas didn’t teach you that.’
‘What now?’ asked another warrior.
‘We wait for the cavalry to arrive,’ Hagan said.