Thud—Thud—Thud.
Each impact rattled through Edric's arm, the blows traveling from his shield into the bones of his shoulder. From above, the enemy's arrows hissed down in a relentless rain, the sound sharp and splintering as they struck the planks of the longboat or clanged off the iron rims of shields. The sea heaved beneath them, the boat rocking in slow, sickening lurches—leaning left, then right—forcing every man aboard to sway in unison to keep their balance.
The sensation was wretched: trapped in the open water, unable to move forward or back, the salt spray stinging his lips while shafts of ash wood sought the gaps in his armor.
Edric looked around and felt relief to see that no man in his boat had yet fallen. The brief comfort of that thought settled in Edric's mind as he made himself ready for the butchery he was to lead.
