They were close to the beach. Gauti tightened his grip on his sword and shield. No words were spoken to, or between his men.

They were fierce, fearless. They did not need to be convinced before a fight. They did not need to drink to find find their courage. They were his chosen warriors. When they bled on the battlefield, they would not ask for aid. Nor would they receive any. They followed Gauti not because they were obligiated to, but because they wanted to. For he was the prince. And twice the man his father was.

The waves clashed on the bow of his ship as they closed their distance to the beach. Cold water splashed in his face. He ignored it. He looked behind him, to the ships that followed his. From simple levy's to somewhat trained men, his army consisted of a bit over one thousand men. They were not all professional or warriors, but that did not bother him. His king, his father had commanded him to take this town, and so he would. He might be mad, but he was still his king.

They reached land. And he was the first to jump down from the ship. And his vanguard followed him blindly. He was a gregarious man, he joined his men is everything they did. And now he would fight with them. Trained, but not very experienced. And so he marched, with little regard to tactics or strategies. They moved over a ridge and then he spotted them in the field.

They outnumbered the enemy garrison at least 3-2. He looked back. The rest of his army landed. They folowed him on these new shores. Gauti simply raised his sword.

His personal guard formed a line just behind him. The levies followed shortly. Gauti raised his sword again, letting it cut through the air in front of him as he moved forward. His men marched with him. They moved in on the enemy.

He raised his sword again. Just outside of the reach of the enemy archers. Then he raised his voice.

"Men of the north! Brothers! Warriors! We are here not in defense of the lands we own, but for the conquest of the lands that we have the right to! Their lands SHOULD be ours! Their lands WILL be ours!

He turned and looked his men in the eyes.

"Let's go take it!"

The men all cheered and yelled. Getting themselves up in a frenzy. The sound of shield, axe, spear and sword being bashed together was overwhelming.

And so they marched again. Brave men ready for conquest.

The first arrows started flying. But that did not bother them. A few men fell who failed to raise their shields properly. But none of his guardsmen suffered any losses just yet.

They arrows started landing more frequently and more precisely. They were close. Gauti raised his sword and let it cut through the air once again. They started running. Bows and sling mattered little to the enemy now. Their infantry formed a line.

"SHOW THESE BASTARDS BLOOD!" Gauti yelled! "CHAAAARGE!"

The battlecries of angry northmen and the rumbling of feet struck fear into their enemies hearts. And so the northern army crushed into the ranks of its enemies. The Danes.

Gauti was the first who reached them. Barely avoiding a spear heading for his face, he slammed his shield into that of some frightened levy, knocking him on the ground. An axe came his way, which he parried swiftly. He stepped forward and smashed the pommel of his sword on the nose of the attacker. He raised his shield to block an incoming spear. The same Danish cunt who went for his face earlier. He swung his sword at the face of the man on his right, which he dodged. But he used the momentum to attack the spearmen on his left. He raised his shield even higher. His sword quickly cut the spearman right above his knee. He brought his sword up again and let it come down on the man on his right. The blow was too fast, and the Danish man was unable to block it completely, taking a hit in his right arm. He turned to the left again to slam the edge of his shield in the spearman's face, who was unable to stand because of the wound in his leg. The hit knocked him out completely and he fell in the dirt. He turned again and slammed his shield on the side of the man he just hit in the arm. He stepped close and rammed the point of his blade in the man's left foot. The man screamed in pain. Gauti smashed the Dane's shield aside completely and moved his sword upwards. It pierced his throat and came out his mouth. Warm blood splashed everywhere as he pulled his sword from the dead man's head. But he ignored it and turned to his next victim. He looked him in the eyes.

"Kill them all!" Gauti screamed, not breaking eye contact as he moved forward.

A simple levy. Less trained than the other two, though that probably did not mean much.

As Gauti moved forward, the cowering man panicked, and tried a downward strike. Gauti rushed forward, lifing his shield up high, but completely vertical. The ill trained man crushed his wrist on the side of Gauti's shield. He dropped his axe which fell harmlessly on the ground. Gauti stepped into his guard and moved his sword around the man's shield. His scream of pain stopped in a strange noise as a sword entered his chest. The man's lungs filled with blood. He coufhed up blood and sunk on his knees. Tears filled his eyes. Gauti stepped over the dead man. He looked around, pleased to see the enemy wavering. They had victory.