England, year of 904

The sun was high in the sky indicating that it was noon; I had been working all morning doing my chores. Being the only woman in the house left all the woman duties to me. My mother passed only a few minutes after my birth; this had left my father's sister the duty of breast-feeding me until I was old enough to eat solid food. I was doing my one last chore, and then I was going to prepare lunch.

I was carrying two buckets full of water from the well up the steep hill where the well resides. The weather was sweltering, which was surprising for England, as it is normally quiet cold here. I walked up the steep hill trying not to step on my pale blue kirtle, while lugging the heavy buckets full of water. The sweat was beading on my forehead, the feeling making me shiver; the buckets of water were preventing me from removing it from my head.

As I got to the top of the hill the whole village came into view, the village was fairly small with only twenty families living in it, but everyone was happy with everyone, there were never any feuds between any of the families, also any of the women would help anyone with their children. I gazed at the village and smiled at the children that were running around chasing each other, the youngest child of the village was little Claire, and she was only two years old. Little Claire was sitting on the grass watching the children, as she laughed in joy.

It was like the calm before the storm, because then all hell broke loose the warning bell was rung, the signal that told everyone that there was danger coming towards us. The buckets of water that I had been working hard to bring to my home slipped from hands in the panic of the unknown danger that was sure to come. The children that had been playing happily with each other now ran in fear back to their parents and houses.

The sound of horses galloping into the village filled the air. The vision of calm and quiet gone, and now replaced with children screaming in panic and mothers crying and running grabbing their children. I looked up to see what had entered the village and caused all this chaos. Vikings. The people that made everyone, including me quiver in fear.

It had been known that Vikings will raid a village for women, this may be because there was a shortage of then in their own village, or because they haven't had time to court one as they are almost always on their travels. But it's what happens to the women that cause women to shake in fear in their presence. It has been said that once the women have been taken away from their home, that the Vikings will beat the women for pure entertainment alone.

Also there has been talk that the women were raped by the leader of the Vikings and then passed on to other men, there was one story where there was a women who had been raped and beaten to death.

By now the Vikings were raiding the whole village, they were just walking into houses and taking all the gold and jewels that lived there. Fires raged all over the place the scene filled of horrors. I stood still frozen in fear, just stuck in place not knowing what to do with myself. How can this happen? Why had it happened?

A cry brought me out of my state. I looked to my left and the sight that I was met with tore my heart apart. Little Claire's parents were lying dead on the floor, her father Joseph was lying on the floor his whole body burnt, with his burnt cloths sticking to his overheated skin.

Her mother Victoria was lying on her back, her body posed as if she had collapsed on the floor. Her face was black with smoke, the same as her kirtle, which had holes, burnt into it with smoke sizzling off of it. Her body lay still with her eyes wide open, she was no doubt dead.

But that wasn't what tore my heart apart, it was the image of little Claire with her little hands smacking her mother on her chest while asking in her childish voice why her mama wouldn't wake up. I looked up and noticed that a lot of people had been killed, there was very little left of our quiet village; only little Claire and me.

I ran up to Little Claire, I picked her and held her to my chest. Claire cried and clung to me her little hand fisted my kirtle and held on to me tightly. I stood up and turned, I had a newfound panic as there was nowhere to run, and there were Vikings everywhere it was surprising that they hadn't noticed me standing here in my panic, with a crying two year old.

Just as the thought crossed my mind I felt arms wrap around and I was lifted from the ground. I screamed and thrashed, while holding on to Claire tighter. I was suddenly placed on a horse, with a masculine chest pressed against my back. The realization dawned on me. A Viking has captured me. Out of nowhere my father runs up to me screaming my name. Just before my father could reach me the Viking behind me had brought out his sword and dug it into my father's chest.

A blood-curling scream came out of my mouth and I reached towards my father. The hand that I had reached out towards my father was snatch away and placed back on my lap by the Viking behind me. The horse began to move, while the Vikings cheered and hollered. I looked at my father's dead body as the horse moved back towards where ever the Vikings had come from.

Pain and tears consumed me as the man on the horse rode towards an unknown destiny. Tears now a constant stream down my face, as sobs tore from my body. My blissful village the only home I have ever known, had gone from a peaceful loving place to the destination of death. Everyone I had ever known and lived and grew up with, has all perished and died.

The only person from the village that had lived along with me was Little Claire. Little Claire that has lost both of her parents in one night, and was too little and young to understand what had happened.

All the grief and terror of the day finally set, I then just felt exhausted, pulling Claire closer towards me as I felt myself fall under the power of sleep.


I woke to the sound of noise. My eyes opened slowly, they seemed to be too tired to even want to open. When I did open my eyes I noticed Vikings everywhere. Men were walking about putting their stolen treasure away, while the women that lived with them cooked meat, while other women where cleaning wounds that the men had been given during their raid of my village.

They had left me sleeping outside on some fur; they had also left Claire with me I noticed with relief. Claire had gone to sleep; her golden hair had dirt in places as well as on her face.

Worry was what I felt now, as I all Claire had in her life now. She was only two she had barley seen the world, she had joy in her life until this day had happened. Two years of joy was not enough, because now she would have a hard life living with these Vikings.

But I will be here with her and I will protect her from any harm that the Vikings would want to wish upon her innocent little body or mind.

Just then a Vikings walked up to us and kneeled to our level. He had red shoulder length hair that needed a comb, he plated some on the hair and wrapped the end of the braid with a piece of cloth. His eyes were a sparkling green, the colour of a clover. His face appeared to be chiselled with sharp cheekbones with a pointed nose. His body looked strong and fierce.

His shoulders broad and his arms held muscle. He wore a green sleeveless tunic with a leather vest on top; he had left all the ties open. His legs were also muscular. His thighs looked as if they could hold two large women on there. He had paired the tunic with black tight chausses that fitted around his legs like a second skin. He had brown leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists.

The beautiful Viking then spoke 'fagr kvennalið leita fá'. He spoke in his native tongue: Norse. I didn't understand him. He must have seen my confused face and translated what he said into English.

'You beautiful, are mine'

Even though those were the first words this handsome man had ever spoke to me, they still sent a cold shiver down my spine, because now I knew I was owned by a man that I never wanted to be owned by. A Viking.