As a new wave of attack formed at the base of Rodos hill, Inga, Holda’s half-brother and deputy, stared at the hill from the warchief’s lookout. After the first assault over 40 men lay dead or dying – but had they accomplished their goal? The arrows from the battlements pelted the attackers and the Athenian horsemen had darted in and out flanking the weakest points and breaking the assault. The solid looking fortifications and the dead men below the battlements - a direct attack will not work.

As the horn sounded again and another 600 warriors gathered to charge the hill from the south, Inga sat down on the warchief’s chair and pondered how he could break through. His scouts had confirmed there were no more than 400 men uphill yet with the high ground, better cavalry and better tactics, the Athenians still held the advantage.

He thought, “Hill sieges are simple enough for the attacker. The best approach is to starve out the defenders or bypass them entirely and leave an ambush contingent.”

Inga glanced at the small stream flowing down the hill and thought, “To starve them out would take too many days. The obvious thing to do is ignore them for now and crush them with a bait.”

Inga looked at the fortifications and thought, “What am I missing? What do the Athenians want? Time? Is there a trap up ahead and this force is meant to cut our retreat? Is there a hidden army beyond this hill?”

But then, a drop of water – and then thunder. Further Interrupting Inga thoughts, loud footsteps, and clanking metal approached from the entrance behind him. It was Balin – the young chieftain – only 18 – but larger than most.

“Where is the warchief?”, he inquired as the rain started pouring.

“He went to check on the fire back at the main camp.”, Inga replied.

He looked up at the rain. “I do not care about the main camp. Give me the order to attack. I will lead the next wave and bring down this hill. Our ropes and ladders are ready. We will wipe the Athenians tonight and feast atop the hill by morning. I need more skulls to decorate my house after all.”, he said with a laugh.

Inga shook his head and said, “The time is not ripe. Preparations must be made before a direct attack can begin.”

Balin angrily said, “Argh, we have been preparing all day and all night with these damn ropes. I am not a rope maker! The warchief said I was to lead the second wave. You dare defy him?”

Inga firmly looked at Balin and said, “No. Go back to camp.”

Balin angrily knocked a torch and went off below to his tribesmen.

Johan, Inga’s deputy, walked in, laughed, and said, “Wow, that arrogant idiot is nothing but a liability. At least he isn’t stupid enough to attack you.”

Inga laughed and said, “It’s just his age. Well, find the chieftains of Cognata and Fastarin tribes and give them my orders. Cognata are to march to the cliffs from the east and attack from there and Fastarin are to attack from the south. Begin the attack at dawn once they hear the horn sound 3 times. The mist should help. One they breakthrough, they are to attack the front gate from behind. On a second thought tell them it comes from the warchief not me.”

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Johan asked, “What of the idiot Balin? You know he only got the chieftain position because his father was a chieftain.”

Inga replied, “And he can wrestle an ox to the ground – or so I’ve heard anyway. He is a disrespectful fool but he is still a child – and he might not see it because of that arrogant attitude but letting him attack the gate is practically a death sentence. I don’t want to send a child to his death. I have prepared a special armored unit that I will lead.”

Johan said, “Ok captain, try not to die.”

As they both laughed, a red-faced Balin suddenly came up behind Inga and screamed, “Inga! I will take my men and attack the Athenian fortress and you will not stop me. I want the men the warchief promised me. You can fight under me if you are not a coward.”

This time he had brough 6 other men with him with maces and axes.

Again Inga said firmly, “No. Go back to your camp.”

One of Balin’s captain, even younger than him, slammed his mace into the warchief’s chair and smiled for having intimidated the grand strategist Inga. The next moment, blood spurted out from this boy who was now cut in half. When Balin’s group turned around, a large glaive came into view. The towering figure, whose approach was hidden by thunderstorm, had arrived – the warchief Holda. His presence alone was enough to weaken the legs of the shivering young boys who dropped to their knees.

The warchief said firmly, “You will go back to camp.”

Balin, clearly was shook, but gathered his courage and protested, “Forgive us warchief, they will never expect another direct assault so soon after the first one failed. You promised me the lead for the second attack. Let me attack them under the cover of the rainstorm. I will..”

Inga interrupted, “Warchief, I will attack in the morning with the cover of fog. I have prepared 2 contingents to take the fort from the east and south while I bait them out at the front.”

The warchief nodded to Inga and just muttered , “Hm”

The warchief then looked at Balin and said, “Balin – you will understand that my command is absolute. 10 lashes each to you and your entourage for your disrespect. But I also said that you will lead the second attack and so you will. Lead the assault on their gates in place of Inga with men from your own tribe and bring me the commander’s head. Claim your place in my warband.”

When Inga stood up to protest, he caught a glimpse of Holda’s eyes and he immediately realized it was best not to speak.

A smiling Balin then said, “Thank you warchief; and I shall go back to the camp for my punishment immediately.”

Not even the blood of his friend dampened his spirits, after all he was only his servant. And 10 lashes? It was well worth the pain if he could claim the fort. He got up, pointed at his men to gathered up his dead and left.

Once Balin left, Inga went up to Holda and said, “You cannot let him go. He doesn’t know the first thing about real war. He will die.”

Holda replied, “So he will and I will replace him with someone competent enough to follow my orders without question. At least he will be useful in his death. Freja has already prepared his cousin to take over as chieftain back at the Ruk.”

Holda sat down on the warchief’s chair and continued, “For hundreds of years they have raped and looted through our part of the world. Now they killed my son and burnt down half our food stores. I intend to reclaim that debt with interest.”

As the screams of his companions filled the air, Balin said to them, “Brothers! Think of it as warming up your bodies for tomorrow we will be heroes.”

--Preview of the Next Chapter--

Balin, the young chieftain, finally has his chance to win glory and riches for himself and become the warchief’s favorite. Everyone seems to think an impossible task but obviously Balin has a plan. Will he lead his men to victory or ruin? Find out in the next chapter of From Fire and Blood - Balin’s Attack