I have reworked the story and fix 99% of my errors. Spelling and grammar. Here is a sample of it. Aron and his company of three and Durham cows, A full cart of fine wool, were on the Salisbury road to the fair. "Come me, lads, the fair does not wait," Aron said, walking beside the cart. James, a hearty lad of twenty-one, prods the cow to hasten the pace. Bruce, being up to the rear, twenty-eight and broad of weight from too many Bridie's and beer; tarries the speed. "Slow down. Ye be breaking' my legs." Kyle, the youngest at sixteen, leading the cows, runs ahead, eager to see his first fairA crossbows bolt buzzed through their banter to hit the cow's wooden yoke with a resounding thud. A second strike James in the back of his shoulder, and with a mortal cry, he drops to ground. Aron knelt at James's side, pulled the bolt from his shoulder, then a shadow loomed, Aron bolts, wielding his saber, a hand, and mace tumble to his feet. Jolted back, the shadow now has a face, a Viking raider, Aron recoiling his saber finding the neck, the head rolls away, "we're under attack." the words found no time to leave his lips. Aron focused now sees a horde of Viking Berserkers emerging from the tall grass east of the road. He glanced back at James to see he had rolled under the cart safe for now, Aron blocking another attack, deflecting the attacker's arm, causing the ax to be lodged in the cart's wheel. Aron ran him through and then slashing the throat with his knife. The Durham cows seeing, Kyle not moving, lying in the road stops. Aron looking around sees Kyle's head rolling on the ground, Bruce his dismembered body, lifeless beckoning, resembling a half-eaten bridie. A fight for their life outnumbered five to one. James finds his feet and a pike and joins the battle. A charging berserker is impaled by James' pike, but the Vikings ax splits James Skull. Unseen a blow dances Aron's head, and a sharp pain explodes in his side, Aron stumbles around, collapses dying, and is left for dead.
