"Torstein..." Erik called out, his smile growing wider. "Are the men ready to show my uncle what a firing squad looks like?"
Torstein slammed his fist against his chest, "The men are born ready, King Erik! We will burn this beach to glass if you give the word!"
Up on the edge of the snowy path, Halfdan finally stopped laughing.
The old warlord pulled hard on the reins of his massive warhorse, his eyebrows knitting together in deep confusion. He looked at the Iron Kingdom soldiers standing on the flat, sandy beach.
They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, completely silent, pointing those strange iron tubes directly at him.
"They are not running!" Halfdan bellowed. He raised his double-bitted axe, pointing it at the gray line of soldiers. "Form the wall! Lock your shields! We march them directly into the sea!"
The warriors in the front row slammed their round wooden shields together, overlapping the iron-rimmed edges to create a solid wall of wood.
