The morning of the next day, a thick morning mist rose from the swamp around the river. Balin shouted at his new servant, "Go wake everyone up and kick them if you have to."

In a few moments, horns started sounding and Balin and his men were noisily getting ready for the assault. The warchief and Inga, hidden by the fog, came into view of Balin. The warchief, in is loud voice, said, "Go take that fort. We will have breakfast on their ramparts in a few hours! Go!"

Balin and his 300 tribesmen, some in horses, some on foot, yelled their warcries and attacked the fort. As they pushed uphill, whistles and gongs cut through the morning morning fog, but Balin could care less. His strength was the greatest in the warband. Then came a hail of projectiles. With their round shields and little armor, the men were pelted with arrows, and slings, but Balin could care less. His men were the most resilient in the warband. As they pushed through, the Athenians came charging from the left and the right, but Balin could care less. His intellect was the greatest in the warband. He had counted on baiting the Athenians outside the fort to crush them there. He yelled at his men, "Form up together! Spears and shields in front! Form up!"

As the morning air filled with the sounds and smells of battle from dying men, horses and apparatus of war, some 200 men formed up together in a semi-circle to face the Athenians from the fog – just as Balin had prepared. "The spearmen were the key to defeating the Athenian horsemen," he thought. "They will charge into us and blinded by the fog, they will never see the spears we have waiting."

As more screams filled the morning mist, the Athenians were picking off stragglers, horns and gongs blared louder signaling coded intentions, and several moments passed. Then another, and another after that. The weight of time was amplified by the lack of visibility and bearing down on the hearts of Balin's men was the fear of the enemy coming from the fog. Then a horse screamed to the left. Balin could hear that a few horsemen ran into the spear wall - more screams and even more screams!

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Flaming carts were hurled down from uphill and smashed into the tightly packed men. Athenian horses charged from the left and the right and the Athenian infantry was rushing into view from uphill. The circle broke almost instantly. The men were routing, but Balin, he just had a blank look on his face. As he stood there, his servant asked him, "What now chieftain?"

His adjutant screamed, "We should form up! We will hold off their horses and you can breakthrough to escape below."

Another one said, "Those cowards on the sides probably broke too easily and ran. If they could stand and fight, we could crush their horses with our spears - just as we planned!"

Balin yelled, "Ahh! No one is going to retreat! We will hold our positions. The warchief will come and destroy the enemy! Anyone who runs will die being chased down by horsemen and rot in Hel (1) – never to enter Valhalla."

After he had said this, Balin put his shield and spear up to face the Athenian horsemen charging him and was immediately struck down by a volley of projectiles from the side. The horsemen collided with the haphazard infantry line and routed it entirely.

Thus, Balin, chieftain of the Ruk(2), bled to death during his assault on Rodos hill.

---Preview of Next Chapter---

Balin is dead and all seems lost for him and his men but Rodos Hill still needs to be taken. Is this a grand misfortune or an opportunity? What was the warchief thinking sending this arrogant fool out Infront? Find out on the next chapter of From Fire and Blood - Ch12 !

---Notes---

1. Hel: A Nordic/Germanic version of hell

2. Ruk: One of the tribes of the people of the eastern woodlands