First published November 20th 2017
“Sven the weak, Sven the useless, Sven the unworthy. That’s what you called me. Well my vengeance shall come, soon and it shall bring with it the wrath of gods.” These were his last words before the last of his blood trickled out of his wound and he met the Valkyrie and rode to Valhalla.
“The tents are on fire!”
“The food is all gone!”
“The cattle are dead!”
“The water’s been poisoned!”
The warriors charged around frantically with buckets of water, panicking as they fought to save their homes.
The flames were too strong, jumping and diving from tent to tent, setting hides alight and billowing a dark, deadly smoke.
Men fell from smoke inhalation, from disease, starvation and poison. No one could survive this.
The fire raged on until only ash remained next to what could have been bones, flesh burned or melted away but no structures or tents. Only ash remained, ash and corpses.
The cries of children could be heard across the land as they screamed, wailing in fear and pain as they had watched helplessly as their fathers had died. The women just stared on in horror, staring at the bodies on the ground, weapons and armour burned into nothingness along with the tents.
The women looked up at the banner that presided over the battlefield of a campsite, it read:
Viking Encampment
Come And Visit
Fun For All The Family
Battle Re-enactment In The Morning
Featured image credit to Pixabay of Pexels
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