[right][h2] Åse Ingolfsdatter[/h2][/right]
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Åse woke early the next morning ready for new beginnings and began to dress herself with her newly found enthusiasm. A dark green tunic showed underneath a leather chest piece with chain mail links hand sewn into the processed hide and the hem of her tunic stopped at the tops of the brown boots she wore, so one could not clearly see the trousers she wore underneath. Atop the armor she fastened her sword belt, empty of the blade which sat on the stolen bed she slept on and across her shoulders she fastened a lynx fur cape.

The young woman took a moment to caress the wildcat hide, it’s spotted hairs running softly through her fingertips. A precious gift from her late husband, but that moment was all she allowed herself. The last thing she did was comb through her yellow hair that was loose from it’s style from the night before and gathered her locks into one singular braid that ran down the middle of her skull. Within that braid, she wove in a leather strip covered in spikes so that any unaware hand that should grab her hair would be met with a painful consequence. She reached a slender hand towards the double-edged sword that sat on the bed and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the the blade. Åse held the sword up to run a final inspection before securing it to her belt, making sure the blade was free of blemishes from previous skirmishes. The weapon itself was skillfully made for someone of her size and strength. Satisfied, she moved towards fabric flap of her lodgings where to the left against wooden poles sat a longbow made of yew wood which she grabbed on the way out along with it’s quiver filled with hawk feathered arrows. It had sat unstrung, allowing the wood to rest and the string that she would use to notch her arrows was tucked away safely in the leather purse that was fastened to her sword belt against her right hip. 

Once outside, Åse made her way through the community of tents that had been set up just outside of Thetford to help shelter those that had stayed behind to occupy the town. She couldn’t help but notice the lack of animal sounds that should have been erupting from the woods that surrounded them, but there was nothing. She stopped between two tents to quickly scan the heavily wooded tree line, but saw nothing, which only aided to help further unsettle her. Very few were out and about like she was and those that were also carried worried scowls on their faces. A voice called out suddenly to Åse’s right. It came from a man who sat on a wooden stool outside the tent and he was dressed similar to she was, ready for battle.

“Lady Åse, Good Morning.”

“Good Morning Arne. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.“ The young widow was familiar with the man whom addressed her as he used to serve under her husband.

“Not at all. I have been just sitting here enjoying the morning.” He replied, nodding towards the field that was in front of them as he scratched his long beard.

“Aye.” She said simply. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

“Same to y-“ As he spoke an arrow wizzed through the air to pierce through his left shoulder. He grunted through the pain as Åse quickly grabbed him to pull the man behind the tent and out of the supposed view of the enemies that lay waiting in the wood. The arrow buried itself in his left shoulder, settling in the meat of his bulk and was not something easily removed due to the arrow’s barbed head. Unfortunately, neither of them possessed a calling horn horn to warn of the incoming invaders so they were left with limited options. 

Taking in a deep breath, Åse filled her lungs with the air she needed to warn her brethren of the impending battle to come. “Saxons!!”

As she her voice carried over the town Arne got back to his feet, his right hand applying pressure to his slow bleeding shoulder. Seeing the man could still get to his feet, Åse began to make her way through their camp towards the boats that lay ashore. 

“Let’s go Arne, we have to get out of here!”

If the man felt pain from his shoulder, he did not show it as he started running towards the shore at a full sprint and Åse managed to keep pace just off to his right. Neither of them looked back as a roar erupted behind them and the Saxon army spilled forth from the trees. More arrows wizzed passed them as they made their way to the boats. Seeing Kjartan ahead, Åse spurred them to the vessel he occupied and turned to defend their rear as Arne struggled to hoist himself aboard. A man had come up behind her with only longsword in hand and bloodlust in his eyes, determined to rid his country of the Danish invaders. She calmly waited for his attack with a drawn blade as her skills as a fighter didn’t come through beating other men through sheer strength, but rather with the swiftness and accuracy of her strikes in addition to her ability to out maneuver her generally slower opponents. He had raised his sword high overhead and moved his arms as if chop her in two, but as his blade came down she sidestepped his attack and raised her own weapon to slice into his exposed underarm. The man cried out in pain as he doubled over, his red blood seeping into his beige blouse and dripping onto the ground below, leaving himself vulnerable to the lethal blow that Åse dealt him. His body hit the ground with a definitive [i]thud[/i], his life force spilling into the very river the Danes were looking to escape to. 

Once she could see that Arne managed to pull himself aboard, Åse joined the others in pushing the vessel out to open water and hauled herself aboard once she could no longer do so efficiently.