The Battle of Stamford Bridge

The Battle of Stamford Bridge was an actual battle that took place on the 25th of September, 1066 A.D. The Kingdom of England, Kingdom of Norway, Earldom of Orkney, and English rebels all fought.

The reddened war-shields rang against each other as the swords billowed blood-waves onto the muddy earth below. Stormblasts of berserker fury weaved a web of mangled entrails as we assaulted our opponents with all our rippling might. I still remember the smell of gore jerking through my nostrils and the goosebumps prickling my skin. Our foes were beating us back, one bloody hack to another. That is when Geirr, made his last stance.

 

He pulled his helmet over his grimy face and grabbed his scar-red battle-axe. He roared like a crashing wave and broke out into a gallop. With a mighty leap, he soared over the enemy lines onto the bridge. I lost sight of him amongst the bloodcurdling screams of our enemies. Then, I saw him pop up, head and shoulders taller than everyone else. This giant-of-a-warrior grinned over at me. Hack after hack. slice after slice, he mowed down our assailants.

 

I felt my heart stop. A dirty coward had floated under the bridge in a barrel and pierced through the back of Geirr's breastplate with a spear. Geirr let out a crazed outcry as he swung his axe in a powerful frenzy.

 

"Fall back! Fall back!" I banged on my shield. "Shield wall! Shield wall!" I rushed to form our defense, but before I reached my brothers-in-arms, I looked back. The mighty Geirr had fallen, his eyes were glazed over with the sleep of death.

 

I bowed my head briefly in honor of my friend--I knew he had been welcomed into the great halls of Valhalla.

 

I reached my comrades and we formed the circle of our shield wall. Slice after slice, my brothers fell with shrieks of torment as the battle raged on. If we kept fighting like this, none of us would be left! The b******s caught us without our armor! We needed to retreat and disperse until reinforcements arrived.

 

"Fall back! Fall back!" I hoped Odin would understand. We would be annihilated if we didn't go back to our ships.

 

I plunged headlong towards the ships. My lungs nearly exploded as I heaved oxygen into them.

 

My heart filled with joy! I could see the warrior, Øystein Orre at the ships.

 

"Brother! What has happened?" He grabbed his axe.

 

"They caught us unawares! Bloody b******s attacked us without our armor on!"

 

Orre's pale blue eyes darkened. He signaled his warriors and shield maidens and followed me back into the thick of the gory bloodbath.

 

"Then what happened grandfather?" A small voice piped up.

 

I shook my head back into reality.

 

"Well, Haakon, when his men arrived there, they almost collapsed out of exhaustion. Orre's storm, held back those fools in one last glory effort! But alas, the Valkyries chose to take most of us home. So many of us died, they say our sun-bleached bones still decorate the field of battle..."

 

"Why did you live, then?"

 

I sighed. "I was stabbed in the side with a spear and tossed into the river. Some fair maiden found me, nursed me, and had her way with me. That's why YOU'RE here!" I laughed & ruffled the lad's flaxen hair.

 

"But in the stillness of the night, I can still feel the mighty axe in my hand as I cleave our enemies skulls in two. More and more, as the days trudge on, my heart longs to join my brothers in the glorious halls of Valhalla...."