Some years had passed since the Priest of Durham married The Lady of Berwickshire to her Scottish Prince.
The time drifted along peacefully as he’d settled back in his role with the people.
And so, as he had way back when, he rode his horse to the Durham seashore to watch the waves and pray.
Only far off upon the horizon, he could see a ship rowing toward him. As it got closer he could see the danger and rode away back to the village.
Ulfric Red Beard and his Viking army landed on the shore then moved inland.
The Priest of Durham made it back to the village in time to warn the constable. The constable alerted the local militia. The nobles were notified and scrambled knights on horseback.
When Ulfric Red Beard reached the village he met the English forces defending the town. The Vikings outnumbered them 3 to 1 because of the element of surprise.
Ulfric Red Beard stood seven feet tall, a giant in the 1490s, he walked onto the battlefield, raised his battle axe above his head, and yelled foaming at the mouth:
“I’m going to behead the first Englishman that steps within reach!”
Just then the skies opened and an alien spaceship appeared from nowhere, hovering above them.
The epilogue of these events got lost within the folds of history, due to memories being purposely erased. However, there remains the following one last account of what took place that day.
“IVAR” The giant bellowed; his voice lost in the whir of the alien craft, “BROTHER! I HAVE COME TO YOUR AID”
Ulfric had no way of knowing, he was 600 years too late. His brothers had died a warrior’s death. Ivar feasted in the halls of Valhalla, sat at the table of Odin himself. The great heathen army, marching in vengeance, had fallen before the force of Alfred the Great, defeated without the might of the Red Beard flank.
The lights of the ship glinted off the polish metal studs of Viking armour, dancing over smooth domed helmets.
Nausea rippled through the English pressed force. The priest of Durham clutched his rosary, watching fear take hold of the men. They were a far cry from the disciplined Knights of Order of the Garter. These farm hands, tenants, conscripted knights, had not seen battle since peace spread through these borderlands. They poured out to defend their hometown, but they hadn’t the fiber for the force that bristled before them. Their irons trembled in their hands, resolved clattering in their poor-fitting leather armor.
Yet they held the front line.
They stood there, the brutish forces of fairy tales before them, the inconceivable iron wheel spinning above them. Each man knew nothing else stood between this mighty Viking force, and their families.
Kill or be killed; the only choices in battle.
Ulfric surveyed the verdant battle ground with confusion. He led the rear flank. He should be following churned, bloodied, mire of invasion. His brother, Ivar the Boneless, led an advance force of the bravest warriors; those who had fought under the Valkyries and lived, who even great Hildr saw fit to spare.
The great studded sky shield that spun before him could only be a chariot of the gods. Was this a battle they were fated to lose…? The fearless warriors, the shield maidens who had marched before him, could only have been taken captive by this supernatural force.
Ulfric raised his voice to the sky, the bellow growing as warriors cried out alongside him;
“Eiris sazun idisi
Once the Idisi set forth,
sazun hera duoder.
to this place and that.
suma hapt heptidun,
Some fastened fetters,
suma heri lezidun,
Some hindered the horde,
suma clubodun
Some loosed the bonds
umbi cuoniouuidi:
from the brave:
insprinc haptbandun,
Leap forth from the fetters,
inuar uigandun.”
escape from the foes!
The sky didn’t split open in thunder, the wrath of the gods did not loosen bonds, for the captives they hoped to save were long dead.
The Priest of Durham didn’t speak High German, but he had met enough of King Henry’s German mercenaries to piece together some of the incantation. He dropped from his horse, running between the ranks to the town constable; leading the charge in lieu of the Lords, too accustomed to taking the high ground and waiting to see where the victory would fall before taking sides.
The two men walked out below the spinning wheel of other worldly light. Their hearts hammered in their throats below the heathen gods of old.
“No captives hide here!” the priest shouted to be heard above the craft, “who do you seek?”
Ulfric could not comprehend these men, permitted to live as they crossed the path of Odin’s great chariot.
Fire burnt in his blood as he crossed the battle field to meet the priest.
Over 250 men and women learnt that day, there was no home left to return to. The ship faded from the sky as the priest agreed to lead Ulfric to Repton, the final resting place of the brother he had not been able to save.
This was a lot of fun, vikings out of time, history lost, aliens! I could have doubled the word count trying to tie up all these threads. I am a bit over - 554 without the incantation and it's translation, so I have probably gone a bit too far over for this to count for this round, but it was so much fun, I couldn't stop myself
This is my entry to Finish The Story - hosted by the lovely @f3nix - give him a follow as these come out weekly!! This round is judged by @cyemela who also wrote the first half for this, a very talent historical author and fellow advocate of a dash of historical correction when it comes to a certain carpark King.
I have tried to squeeze this between the lines of history. The great heathen army was defeated long before 1490, yet they had seemed sure of success, maybe a flank was borrowed by UFOs... This is a real Merseburg Incantations, a viking burial that just seems out of place has been found in Repton...Men, women, and four children were entombed there. It is the only one found like it. Maybe it the remains of Ulfric's army, displaced by alien technology, forced to live in a time that was not his own, for reasons he would never understand. Maybe Ulfric retrieved the remains of his brother Ivar the Boneless and built this grave site for him. I can't help but giggle when I hear someone say they believe the found the bones of Ivar the Boneless!
Photo Credit - could it be more perfect with his red beard?! which I believe is a self portrait by Pixabay User ThorstenF - based on his selection of images, and manga lol - I would be good friend with him!