Two days later. During those forty-eight hours, everything on the island came down to intense preparations and rivers of mead everywhere. On the main snekkja, where Hárekr would travel with his chieftains, the last details were being adjusted. Jarl Einar, who had joined with enthusiasm, would sail at the front of his own ships, accompanied also by the small contingent that had decided to join from Geirr’s forces. In total, three hundred and fifty men were setting sail for the Saxon lands.
Hárekr, while watching his warriors adjust the oars along the gunwale, clarified the strategy to Torstein:
"We will attack the Saxon villages closest to the enemy king."
He was referring directly to King ?lla of Northumbria, the man who had executed his father in the pit of snakes. Torstein nodded gravely and remarked:
"According to the reports that have reached us, the sons of Ragnarr have already landed in East Anglia. They are demanding horses and supplies from the local kings to prepare an invasion by land."
Hárekr understood the situation perfectly. For that very reason his plan consisted of striking from behind, on the northern coasts of Northumbria. It was an extremely risky maneuver: venturing into hostile territory with only three hundred and fifty men bordered on impossible, but he saw a unique opportunity in the audacity of his movement, for no one would expect an attack from that front.
Weeks later, Hárekr’s fleet sailed smoothly over the frozen waves of the North Sea. Jarl Einar, who had moved to the main snekkja alongside Hárekr, confirmed that they were very close to reaching the enemy coasts.
Hárekr conceived a clear strategy: they would execute the hljóesigling (silent sailing), advancing at an extremely slow pace to wait for nightfall and thus strike a precise blow along the border strip.
Einar, being an experienced warrior, observed him with some caution and asked:
"What would happen if the Picts and the Saxons decide to join forces?"
He implied that, if that were the case, their forces could be cornered from both fronts. Hárekr replied with total conviction:
"It is impossible. If the king of Alba allies with King ?lla, it would mean facing the entire great army that has already landed in the south. Do you think they would do it? For them it is much better to tolerate some border raids than to risk their entire kingdom."
He demonstrated an impeccable tactical reading of the historical enmity between Picts and Saxons. Then, sketching a slight smile, he added:
Einar, seeing the cold determination with which the young man spoke, let out a brief sigh and said:
"We trust you."
There was not much more to add. From a purely strategic point of view, mobilizing and improvising thousands of soldiers would take weeks for either of the two kings; by the time they managed to react, Hárekr’s ships would already have sailed back with the plunder. For that reason, Einar had no reason to argue against the plan.
Thus the hours passed until night fell completely. The vessels advanced stealthily toward the border zone: on one side stretched the Pictish settlements and on the other the domains of northern Northumbria. The goal was to shake both fronts without giving room for a coordinated response.
In the vanguard, only four snekkjur could be seen, perfectly aligned, making their way through the shadows; the other ships had fallen a little behind, but, guided by expert navigators, they would reach the shore at exactly the right moment.
Upon spotting a clear landing point, Jarl Einar asked Hárekr firmly:
"Do we take it?"
It was evident to everyone on board that the inhabitants of the settlement did not expect an attack of such magnitude, much less at that hour of the night. Not a single sentry was seen patrolling the coast.
Hárekr, making the decision immediately, gave the orders:
"Torstein, Thorir, take a group of men and storm the left flank of the village. We will land with a small group from the front."
No one questioned the strategy. Torstein and Thorir fulfilled their duty in absolute silence, jumping to the adjacent vessels to organize the warriors. Einar stayed at Hárekr’s side; although he did not fully understand the maneuver, he knew that a frontal attack with few men meant drawing the defenders’ attention directly.
Hárekr clarified the plan in a low voice:
He said it while watching Torstein and Thorir’s ships vanish into the shadows to the left. They would be the perfect bait to concentrate all the enemy’s focus on the front.
Einar nodded and gave the order. At that instant, several warriors raised their Gjallarhorn (war horns of thunderous sound) toward the night sky. A dull, deep, thunderous roar rumbled over the waves, breaking the silence of the coast and echoing in every corner of the Saxon settlement.
(HOOOOOW-RRRRR-UUUU-MMM!)
Immediately, the wood of the hulls crashed against the stones of the shore. The Vikings, hardened by dozens of landings, jumped into the freezing water waist-deep without a second’s hesitation, axes raised and shields at the ready.
In the nearby dwellings, the villagers awoke with a start at the din. No one expected a raid at that hour, much less with such violence. Peering through the wooden shutters, panic paralyzed them as they discovered the silhouette of the Northmen landing en masse. Gripped by terror, the peasants woke their families and fled desperately toward the stone structure of the local monastery to seek refuge. However, not all were lucky enough to run fast; many were trapped in the confusion of the attack.
Hárekr, seeing that the strategy was progressing exactly as he had foreseen, nodded coldly. It was then that he spotted at the end of the main street a group of Saxon guards approaching in a hurry. They wore no armor, only wielded swords and shields taken up hastily.
Hárekr immediately identified their weakness: facing Northmen without chainmail or protection on the torso was practically suicide for the locals.
"To me!" —Hárekr shouted to the nearest men.
He advanced decisively down the main street flanked by some fifty warriors, among them old Einar. They advanced in tight formation, with a firm step, to receive the enemy charge. However, as they gained ground, the murmurs and clash of weapons in the adjacent alleys revealed a greater threat: from both flanks of the street, dozens more Saxon soldiers began to emerge.
Einar, observing the shadows closing in on them, warned Hárekr in a low voice:
"They are surrounding us."
Hárekr nodded without losing his calm and replied:
"Let us wait for the moment."