𝑨𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒉 | ✔️

7| The Danes

A/N: So after a long hiatus I'm back with a new chapter.  I'm still keen to write this story. My goal this year is to complete this book.

Hopefully there will be a sequel.

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

This chapter contains violence and depictions of blood. Read at your own risk

- Jenny-Tj

Summer, 5th June 864AD – Night

Kendrick was under siege, just like how I feared it would be.
Everywhere I went, Vikings broke into homes; looting valuables, capturing innocent women and children, and engulfing buildings in flames.

The Vikings were a relentless tribe who were known to show no mercy and violently obtain without compromise. At least that's what I've been told here.
While growing up, I would listen to stories – true stories of Saxons encountering these violent warriors.

Women had always been targets to assault and, if they were cursed with an unwanted child, they were forced to raise the runt and remain submissive to their Viking masters.

Children as young as five were sold off as slaves; to pay off their families' debts. Our village and the rest of East Anglia may be a lush, prosperous land, but there were certain classes who struggled to survive in their living conditions.

I hurried as fast as I could.
With every passing minute, I grew more anxious about what fate had in store for my family.
Will I be too late and find their fallen bodies, covered in blood? Or will I find them still with all limbs intact?

After I escaped the village workshop, I could not stop thinking about Bradwin's cold, bloody body lying unconsciously in his study. The chilling image haunted me over and over; I wish I'd been there sooner.

How would his daughter and his wife react? Will he be given a proper burial for his death?

My mind raced back to the last thing that intruder told me. Something about my people committing something far worse than the Northmen.
If that were a true allegation, then what could have my people done?
Then again, trusting a Dane – a mortal enemy for goodness sake – did not sound such an outstanding idea.

A terrifying cry came from behind.
Quickly, I spun around; my heart racing wildly. Another Viking, fully clothed in chainmail with thick braided chestnut-brown beard and his head protected by an iron helm, charged forward raising his battle axe.

With trembling fingers, I unsheathe my sword. I held a steady grip, but after what I just experienced earlier, I fear this time there will be no one to help me but myself.

The Viking snarled, his grey-blue eyes glowering. He released a shrill then lunged forward aiming his weapon towards me.
Quickly, I dodged his blow. The man groaned and the axe came hurling to the ground. Cursing to himself, the man yanked his weapon from the ground.
Turning back to me, he grinned, revealing his foul crooked teeth.

Swallowing, my gaze remained fixed on the invader. I needed to be brave; not show any signs of fear. No matter what he does, I needed to stand my ground.
Stranding tall, I tightened my grip on my sword, my knuckles turning pale. Inside, I was trembling. Never have I been this afraid.

"You're awfully brave to fight me." The man's wicked gaze shifted up and down in disbelief. He scoffed. "Little girl, you should be very afraid. Having to fight Haggard the Grim; fearsome warrior of the North!"