After sailing for five days, the cargo ship arrived at the first rapids of the Dnieper before everyone had time to recover their strength.
Looking into the distance, the originally wide river suddenly became narrow, and both banks rose more than ten meters above the surface of the water. In the middle of the river, there were many jagged reefs, which was frightening.
"Look, I did not lie to you. This part of the river is not suitable for navigation."
Rurik controlled the cargo ship to run aground on the western bank. Seeing this scene, Vig and the others had already resigned themselves to their fate. They silently cut down trees to build slides and prepared to continue towing the boat.
Towing the boat, entering the river, drifting down the river, and then getting out again after reaching the rapids...
After going through this process, Vig's patience was at its limit. Every day he towed the boat, ate, and slept, which was many times harder than working 996.
"God, this is not a life for humans. Can we change our way of life..."
Just as he was praying in secret, he heard a "whoosh" sound, and the feather arrow was nailed to the grass near his toes, and the tail feathers were still slightly trembling.
An enemy attack!
He instinctively raised his round shield and discovered that in the grass in the distance were more than a dozen mounted nomads holding bows, wearing pointed felt hats and wisps of dirty braids hanging behind their heads.
At this point, Ivar retrieved a bow and arrows from the cargo ship and prepared to fight back, but was stopped by Rurik: "Don't kill the people, just drive them away. These people are from the neighboring Pecheneg tribe. They live as nomads on weekdays. They are the most difficult to deal with. As soon as the blood feud starts, they will deliberately ambush us at the rapids somewhere downstream!"
"Just beat them and not fight back? That's too offensive!"
Ivar cursed, but still accepted Rurik's offer and deliberately fired his arrows into the open space near the nomads.
The two sides were stuck in a stalemate for several minutes. Seeing that neither could do anything to the other, the nomads prepared to evacuate. The next moment, a feather arrow flew out of the forest behind them and pierced the rider's face from a distance of a hundred meters. Judging by his clothes, the deceased was wearing iron armor, and his status was much higher than that of an ordinary nomad.
"Who shot the arrow?" Rurik was horrified and, quickly looking around, discovered that it was Nils, who had just returned from hunting. The latter was smug at that moment and bragged to his comrades: "Look, this is the most accurate arrow I have shot in the last few years. No matter how good his armor is, it will be useless!"
Listening to the mournful cries of the nomads, Rurik gave a smile uglier than a cry: "It's all over, it's all over now!"
...
Having sorted out this whole story, Nils couldn't help but feel uneasy. He grabbed the back of his head and said uncertainly: "Perhaps they are afraid of my archery skills and do not dare to come to take revenge. Or maybe we will act quickly and manage to pass through this area before the other side strikes back."
"Forget about it, the men are dead, there is no point in worrying about these things," Ivar urged his companions to light a fire and cook the meat, "Rest early after the meal, speed up the progress in the next few days and pass this area as quickly as possible."
When the danger came, everyone hurried on despite their fatigue. After going around the fourth cataract, they followed the river to the fifth cataract.
The cargo ship ran aground on the western bank. Rurik looked at the endless meadows, holding the amulet in both hands and praying silently:
"Odin, please bless us so that we can pass this safely. We will make enough sacrifices later."
After praying in turn to Odin, Frigg, Thor and the other gods, Rurik asked his companions to tow the ship. He was so nervous on the way that everyone wore armor.
The sun scorched the meadows and the cargo ship crawled slowly, like a heavy pack ox. Suddenly, a large number of birds took flight in the distance. Rurik lay on the ground, his ears pressed to the ground, and heard the sound of a large number of horses rapidly approaching.
"Retreat, do not worry about the cargo!"
In his desperate eyes, hundreds of horsemen rushed down the gentle slope on the southern side, shouting strangely in unison. The Vikings knew that they were no match for them, and they ran desperately towards the birch forest on the western side.
Dressed in heavy scale armor, Vig was the last to rush into the forest, and then froze in place.
Wait, where are the people?
Vig tried to find traces of Ivar, Bjorn and the other companions, but unfortunately he found nothing. The gang ran faster than rabbits and apparently forgot that the poor guy was following them.
Before he could complain about the disloyalty of his companions, a creaking sound of footsteps was heard at the edge of the forest. The group of nomads still did not want to give up and abandoned their horses to pursue them on foot!
"This is too much bullying. This group of people is really unreasonable."
Vig stumbled over branches and leaves in the forest. Soon he was exhausted and was forced to stop and lean against a tree trunk to catch his breath. The next moment, a Pecheneg jumped out of the bushes on the left, holding a scimitar, dressed in a shabby sheepskin coat, dressed like a typical low-level nomad.
Just a few seconds later, footsteps were heard from all sides. In Vig's desperate eyes, one nomad after another jumped out from behind the bushes, making strange cries and looking hideous.
"So, is this my end?"
He looked up and saw several noisy black ravens circling in the sky. He felt an inexplicable rage in his heart and decided to kill a few more people before he died himself.
The nomads on the left swung their knives, and Vig raised his shield to block the blow and took the opportunity to stab the enemy in the chest and stomach with his iron sword. Before warm blood splashed into his face, two bronze daggers struck from the right. He blocked one dagger with his round shield and swung his sword to cut off the wrist holding the other dagger. The broken palm fell to the ground with a clatter.Then
the scimitar slashed at his back, but due to the superior defensive ability of the scale armor, no damage was done. Vig quickly turned around and swung his sword, easily cutting through the enemy's neck. The blood that sprayed out covered his face, and his vision instantly turned blood red. Live to die!Gradually, he discovered that the enemy's movements had slowed down and there were flaws everywhere. Flashes of swords and sabers appeared in his field of vision, and his body reacted instinctively. Under the cover of the forest, he dodged and moved, and his attacks were deadly. It seemed that he had entered a state of "flow" that he had never experienced before. ... The tenth Pecheneg fell, clutching his chest. The remaining four nomads began to waver. They did not expect that this Viking barbarian was like an immortal beast, bloodthirsty and cunning. They wanted to retreat. They looked at each other and simultaneously threw down their weapons. One of the bronze short knives spun and hit Vig's iron helmet, making a dull sound of impact. Not only did it not cause any damage, but the knife itself broke. "The quality of the iron armor of the Nordic barbarians is too good, retreat!" the nomads shouted and fled in panic. The battle was over. The setting sun shone through the branches and leaves, reflecting a blinding light on the pool of blood. Vig was breathing heavily, pulled out a leather bag from the belt of the corpse and drank a large gulp of stinking mare's milk. A large flock of ravens circled excitedly above him, as if thanking him for the sumptuous meal.Soon, his comrades followed the sound and approached. Seeing this horrific scene, Ivar exclaimed: "After this bloody battle, I finally stimulated your potential. Congratulations." Vig's face did not express joy, but only confusion: "It's hard to say. I don't feel like I've become stronger, but the enemy's movements have become clumsy."