Chapter 41: The Flying Crest

The clacking of their plated armor, resounded across the empty hallway as Ragnar and Harald burst out of the great hall's doors, opening up to the blue wintry northern sky that was in stark contrast to the red-gold banner of the Sigvald family. One that contained the wing embraced sword flying high in the air.

Ragnar walked confidently beside his father as the two of them made their way past the rear end of the army, taking this time to talk to the men that decided to follow them on the journey, clasping forearms and shaking hands in warm greetings.

As the two made their way up, a large cage creating a huge racket came into view. Its rusted iron contained within the infamous Rolf the ripper, still angry from his treatment at the feast the previous night.

"All ya bastards are going to hell for treating a guest like this!" Rolf sneered as he slammed against the iron cage. Drool slithering down from his bruised lips, still blooded from the fight.

Ragnar tutted as he broke away from his father, "I'll deal with this one."

Harald nodded as he smiled before continuing down to the front, "Don't kill him, boy, we'll need him as an offering.

"Oh, I won't", Ragnar smirked as he approached the cage, "Oi, I want you to shut your mouth before I open that cage and come in there." He said as he rattled the enclosure.

Rolf swivelled over to look into Ragnar's eyes before his arms extended outside the cage as far as he could, his sharp nails slashing at the air where Ragnar stood a moment ago.

The burly Norman quickly stepped back in, grabbing one of Rolf's arms and slamming it against the side of the cage.

A resounding crack ensued a loud shriek as Rolf gazed with horror upon his now dangling arm. He was suddenly dragged forward by the scruff of his shirt, bashing against the iron cell as he stared straight into the demonic eyes of the man in front of him.

"Now listen here, you little shit. I've pacified way worse than you, and if you don't stop this racket. I'll ensure that you're in for a long morning." Ragnar snarled at the terrified Rolf before throwing him back away from the edge of the cage.

Waiting for a few moments, the burly Norman smirked at the suddenly compliant wide-eyed scoundrel, "Now I know why they call you the ripper," as he shifted on his feet to catch up with his father.

The head of the army consisted of the warhorses and slenderly elegant carriages for the Baron's entourage.

Ragnar had ordered the caravan masters to allot one such carriage for his people, in which he'd kept Eve, Erika and Finan, while the spearman Marquise had requested to ride alongside him.

The burly warrior carried himself with conviction as he approached his carriage, opening the door to find the scrawny Finan dancing away from the fuming Erika's grasp.

"What's going on in here?" Ragnar demanded with his eyebrow's raised as he stepped into the small space and separated the two in one swift motion.

Erika huffed, seeing that she could no longer get to Finan as she seethed, "This little bastard sat next to me and tried to feel me up."

Finan turned to Ragnar as he protested, "I did not! All I did was accidentally plop my arm on her thigh, and she lost it."

Ragnar looked between the two and then turned to Eve for an unbiased explanation.

The freckled lady noticed his strong gaze on her and smiled mysteriously, "Well, the little boy did, in fact, touch Erika, but it could also be by accident. We'll never know unless you somehow managed to scourge out the thoughts of the little boy."

Ragnar chuckled at the deadpan expression on Eve's face, "Well, I'm certain that's impossible, but I can guess what's happened. No worries, come, Finan, let us leave the women to their boring carriage."

"Where are we going, Milord?" Finan asked as he quickly hopped out of the carriage to follow.

"You're going to ride up in front on Ares alongside me," Ragnar turned to Finan with a wide grin on his face.

The two slowly walked up to the large shire, its majestic black hide legs flexing as it strutted in place, impatiently waiting to get going.

Ragnar cooed at the warhorse before he rubbed his palm across the side of Ares, calming it down with long powerful strokes. "There, there, boy. We're about to head out now." He said with a soft pat before pointing at Finan, "Your turn, he doesn't bite, lad."

The scrawny lad stood beside the large beast, almost 3 feet taller than him, and gulped as he slowly touched the side of the horse.

The horse huffed at Finan's indecisiveness, moving into the boy's palm, demanding more attention. A wide smile came across the skinny lad's face, getting more confident as he continued to gaze upon the majestic beast.

"There you go, Finan. Now that you're comfortable with it, it's time to hop on." Ragnar smiled as he tousled the boy's unruly hair.

He raised the boy onto the saddle large enough for two with ample warning.

Ares neighed in appreciation as he, too, understood that they were getting ready to go as Ragnar hoisted himself on the back of the horse with a grunt.

The leather stirrup stretched under the weight of the heavy warrior as the horse shifted about, unsettling the young Finan as it attempted to get used to the extra weight on its frame.

"Woah boy, steady!" Ragnar commanded before the horse halted, occasionally huffing to show its displeasure.

Finan grinned as he stroked the strong neck of Ares, "Horses are so cool! You must teach me how to ride one Ragnar!" his nervous energy ticking the horse off once again.

Ragnar smacked the boy round the head, "In due time, Finan. For now, calm down. You're making the horse jittery."

He turned to look at his father and Marquise on his left, who in turn had mounted their horses preparing to set out as the flag bearer trotted to the lead. Holding the large red and gold banner embossed with their family crest.

As the flag-bearer got in place, he turned around and nodded to Harald, signalling that he was ready.

With the entire army prepared, Harald pulled out a mid-sized horn, taking a large breath before a low blaring command rang out throughout the entire field. "FOREWARD!" Harald ordered as the entire army rumbled down the hill to the crowd forming at the village down below.

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Challenge!

With the new week, lets push it lads. See how far we can take this book up the rankings with our ratings and comments. It's been a pleasure to write for you! If you've enjoyed the book up until now, please don't forget to rate it, so that more people can come across it:)

Are there any more aspects of the army you'd like for me to describe? Comment below!