Erik lifted his arm to halt his column. For a long moment he sat gazing at the pass above which Hakon, Egil, and the archers now sat, waiting.
“He sniffs trouble,” Egil commented mildly.
Hakon nodded, eyes scanning the army that snaked down the overgrown cart path behind Erik and disappeared into the distance. In the morning sun, hundreds of helms and byrnies glinted darkly, like the scales of some overgrown serpent.
Hakon thought of the archers concealed about him and prayed that they would keep their wits during the ambush. Arun, the old scout, had split their forces between the two sides of the pass, deploying them in trees that topped the hills to either side. From there they could fire at will upon Erik"s army, provided he came through the pass.
“Arinbjorn.” Egil motioned with his
