The body fell down as an axe sliced through the throat and blood spilled around. The corpses were lying on the cold ground, staring into the starry sky with now blind eyes.

"Who are you and what do you want?" asked Athelstan with shaking voice. He was secretly glad that this tall, hooded stranger killed the robbers, but the way he did it was too brutal for the religious monk to bear. He felt sick, though he´d seen blood and Vikings´ cruelty before.

"Just a wanderer," said the silent voice from under the hood. Athelstan couldn´t hear him properly, because he was trying to hide his face in the darkness under the hood.

A long pause of silence followed. Athelstan somehow felt fascinated by the drops of blood falling from stranger´s hand, still holding an axe. Little did he know, it was because of that hand, not of the blood.

"My lord is not here. He and his family are gone for few days. But I think he would want to thank in person to somebody who saved his property. Please, come in."

After this invitation, Athelstan saw a flash in stranger´s eyes, but he didn´t say anything, just followed him inside the house. Athelstan became nervous, as he felt his glance on his back.

"Do you want more ale?" Athelstan took a mug full of foamy liquid, but stranger shook his head. He didn´t say anything since they had entered the house. Athelstan was only trying to be polite, but the mysterious wanderer did not answer any of his questions. He didn´t even take off his hood, though it was really hot by the fireplace where they sat to share the dinner. Athelstan started to feel annoyed. He didn´t notice how his heart quickened every time he got near the stranger.

"I have to go now," said the man suddenly and stood up. He wasn´t really that tall, not taller than Athelstan, as he surprisingly realized.

"What? You can´t leave now, I don´t even know your name! My lord, Ragnar, is back in two days, why won´t you stay to see him? He surely will reward you!"

No answer again. The warrior just took his axe, bow and arrows with clear intention to walk away, but Athelstan grabbed his cape and accidentally tore it. He froze.

There was no warrior under the cape, but a beautiful young woman with long golden hair. And what was more bewildering; there was a cross at her chest. She was a Christian too.

The silence between them deepened with every breath. She slowly raised the axe, ready to attack.

"I´m not going to hurt you," whispered Athelstan quickly. She didn´t lower her hand, but she stopped.

"You´re wearing a symbol of Jesus Christ," said Athelstan after a while. She chuckled.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked angrily.

"Don´t you want to know my name first? You ask me if I´m one of Jesus´ followers?"

"Those are a little bit offensive words from somebody who just killed two men and pretended to be a guy whole evening."

"I apologize," she bowed her head. "My name is Mirthel. Now we can talk. You don´t look like someone who is able to hurt a girl."

"What, I would never…!" Athelstan spitted out in anger, but she only laughed and put the axe back on the ground.

"Pretending to be a man was the easiest way to protect myself from being raped. What else would await me? The raiders burned down our entire village and my family was dead. I didn´t want to end up like you."

"Like me?" Athelstan raised his eyebrow. Mirthel stared him directly into the eyes.

"Like a slave."

"I´m not…" he started the sentence, but couldn´t finish.

"Not a slave? What are you then? Your master´s pet?"

Athelstan didn´t know what to say. He just drank from his cup too fast and started choking on ale. Mirthel did nothing to help him. She was beginning to drive him mad.

"You said you are a Christian too, that you used to be a monk. Where are you from?" As she said it, she put her hands on his shoulders. The chills run down his spine. He pulled away from her.

"What´s wrong with you?"

"You just said it – I was a monk. I´ve never touched a woman before."

"So it´s true…"

"What is true?"

"That Christian priests are fully dedicated to their god."

"To our god. You are one now too. Or is it just a disguise as your clothes?"

"No."

The tone in her voice made Athelstan believe that she really meant it. He was happy. Although she was born a Viking, he hadn´t met someone of his religion for a long time. He wished for someone to share his prayers with. And now she was there. He decided to do something he had never done before – he reached and touched her hand. She smiled.

"I was wondering – how can a Viking voluntarily become Christian?"

"I was tired of war and violence. Then I met this guy, missionary, who spoke of god that is full of love and forgiveness. He told me this god doesn´t want any bloody sacrifices – just our love and obedience. I quite liked the rules, so I agreed to be baptized."

"The Ten Commandments."

"What?"

"Those rules we keep, they are called Ten Commandments."

"Yes, that´s how he called them too."

"Have you read the Holy Bible?" asked Athelstan with hope.

"No, I can´t read Latin," she shook her head.

Suddenly, Athelstan felt ashamed. He used to rewrite books when he was in monastery in England, but he had never thought of people in other countries, who couldn´t understand Latin.

"I have my copy of Bible here with me – I can translate it for you, if you wish."

Then it was Mirthel who pulled away. She was scared of the flame that unexpectedly rose in his eyes. She never trusted men, because she only ever saw them doing evil things and she was surprised that she withstand with this one for so long.

"I have to go now. I really have to leave." As she hurried to get away, she overturned the jar of ale and it spilled all around the table.

"I´m so sorry," she shouted and tried to catch the ale with her hands.

"Please, don´t go," Athelstan blurted out as he clenched her wrists. Mirthel reacted instinctively. She pulled out the knife and tried to stab him, but luckily, he turned around and got behind her. He held her tight in his arms, so she couldn´t move.

"You don´t have to be afraid," he gasped out quietly.

"Then why are you holding me like this?" she tried to get out of his grasp.

"I thought you were going to kill me," whispered Athelstan into her ear.

"I was."

"Then I have right to protect my own life, don´t I?"

He lowered his arms and let her go. They both blushed, for they were aware what they´d done was stupid. Athelstan smiled slightly, though he felt ashamed for his behavior.

"Seems you have spent too much time among Vikings," she remarked sarcastically.

"And you too little with Christians," returned Athelstan. "Do you have somewhere to go? You can stay here if you want to."

Mirthel understood she had spent too much time with this man and that it was time to leave. She punched him in a face and when he fell to the ground, moaning from pain, she took her weapons and run into the night.