| About Shieldwall | My breath froze in the mist that morning, leaving droplets of water in my ragged beard. I remember that I could hear the pounding of the Saxon war drums beating their advance before they even came into sight. The warriors came forward with shields locked tight, their great war hounds prowling in front of the line while the wizards howled to their gods for victory. They came forward with an easy confidence; they knew they outnumbered us, and they knew that our small force was trapped. As I adjusted the heavy mail coat I wore under the wolf pelt draped about my shoulders, I cast my eyes over my own men. Dirt, dust and blood stained their armour, while their faces were lined with worry. They blinked through red rimmed eyes at the enemy and levelled their spears as one. “A grim day.” Forkbeard’s voice cut through my silent inspection. “Just the weather for killing Saxons…or to cross the Bridge of Swords.” “If the gods choose that I shall die today,” I replied as I pulled my helmet over my head. “Then I will wash the earth in our enemy’s blood before I do so.” Forkbeard grunted his approval and ran a hand over his chin, tugging at the twin plaits of his moustache. The warrior rings that lay thick round his huge tattooed forearms clinked as he mused. “If the gods choose that I shall die today,” he said, “they can go fuck themselves.” Before the laughter could rise in my throat a mighty roar sounded from the Saxon line, drawing my attention away. As they began their charge I locked my shield in line, whispered a silent prayer and slid my sword from its scabbard… Shieldwall are: The Pendragon Bors the Forkbearded NoFace Bloodaxe Talesin the Bard |
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