You were from England, just a small village on the border, living your life normally with your father who was a former warrior, and your mother and your younger brother, herding sheep every morning, gathering every night around the fire burning in the wood in the hut you lived in, cuddling under the blankets while your father told you about history and about the Vikings.

You believed that this is what you would live your whole life, a quiet, peaceful, happy life, but it seems that you were living in a big illusion.

On a cold winter's night, with snowdrops whipping violently in the air, many people screamed as they fled from their homes when they saw the Danes.

England had been an enemy of Denmark for a long time, and it seemed that some Danish warriors were now plundering the small villages, killing children and men, raping the women, and taking the food. It was the first time in your life that you had seen such horror.

People were screaming in terror, your family was lost in the chaos happening around you, arrows were flying and warriors were killing people and children, and your frightened eyes could see someone who looked like the leader of the herd of the savage warriors, blond beard and hair with cold blue eyes.