I opened my eyes to a burning pain. The sun was beaming in from the east window shining brightly onto my face. My eyes were dry, my mouth parched. An awful headache was settling in. The previous nights antics came racing back to me. Far too much ale, wine, and women. My crown was heavy, my bear coat burdensome. Unable to control my body temperature, I decided the best thing to do was sweat it out.
I threw open the thick cow hide skin of my tent, nodding towards my guards.
“Lord,” they both gestured towards me.
I didn’t like what I saw. The men were restless, becoming weak. Some more ill than I, some passed out, one even laying with the pigs.
With such a grand pillage on our raid three years ago, there was no need to put more lives at risk. We had everything we needed. I felt it was time to grow our community. Families should start bearing more sons and daughters to carry on their name, and to tend their land. I should have known that wouldn’t last long. Norse blood runs deep. Strong men and women need battle to stay hungry.
I had no qualms about the decision I had made as rightful King – to stay and prosper with the land we already had. Clearly, we had to sail again. I became paranoid, thinking maybe someone would come and axe me this time.
It was time for the Christian loving Anglo-Saxon’s of England to meet their end.
Odin will have his day.
From the author: Yes, Nel, I will continue writing this story for you.