It seemed like everyone in the church was frozen in place. Even the priest and the churchmen were so surprised by the sudden intrusion of their holy place that they did not move a muscle.
After what felt like ages, the villagers did slowly start to get a better look at the intruding silhouettes by the door, as their eyes grew accustomed to the sunlight.
Some began to cry while others started to move around, away from the huge men standing by the door.
There were approximately twenty men or more, Frida was not sure as she could not see much from where she sat. But she could see that they all were clothed very differently than the villagers. Well, differently than anyone she had ever seen, actually.
Many of them had long beards, and their hair was cut in a peculiar manner. They were all covered in leather and fur, and they carried beautifully painted round shields and weapons.
Weapons?
Her throat tightened. She suddenly realized the gravity of the situation.
These men were definitely not from around here, and their heavy artillery could only mean one thing. They were not here to make friends.
Her eyes soon connected with one of the tall men in the crowd, and a great shiver ran down her spine, as he squinted his eyes at her. A vile taste spread in her mouth. He looked like the Devil himself, standing there in person, the tallest of them all, darkness circling his eyes and down his cheeks. But she could not tear her eyes away from him, even if she tried. She was as petrified by his stare.
His face twisted, and before long she realized that he was smiling at her. Devilishly.
She felt Lady Liofrun pulling at her arm, and it was not until then that she was finally able to look away, down on her Lady who was sitting down.
All the villagers had sat down except for Frida, and she quickly got down on the floor.
Soon, one of the intruders stepped forward, causing all the villagers to back away even more in fearful gasps.
The eyes of the intruder were hovering over the villagers, and a small curl on his lips made him look... Almost satisfied?
This man did not look as frightening as the other man she had locked eyes with, but Frida was not sure if that was even possible to do. He was heavily braided on the top of his head, while the sides of his head and neck were completely without hair. She had never seen anything like that before.
He moved very smoothly forward, stealthily like a feline or a beast of prey, holding out an ax that was pointed at the priest who was still standing at the altar with a scripture in his shaking hands.
Frida felt Lady Liofrun crossing her chest, but she could not be bothered with praying right now, as her curiosity still had her clinging her eyes to the strangers. Frida's heart beat with vigor in her chest, fear causing her blood to rush.
"What, in the name of God, is the meaning of this?" quaked the priest in a very thin voice, slicing the thick silence that prevailed among them all.
The man moving forward curled his lips even more, and he looked back on his fellow warriors, causing the tall man with blackened eyes to snigger as he made a small nervous jump where he stood. Others laughed in deep voices, while one clashed his ax against the round shield in his hand. He looked angry.
The heavily braided man turned his head to look at the priest once more. Frida had a sense that he was their leader or best warrior. He had a very powerful energy around him.
He opened his mouth and spoke peculiar words in a smooth voice. Frida guessed that it was a foreign language, but it was not long before she realized that they were actually English.
Heavily accented English.
"You call us Norsemen," the man said as he took another step forward while eyeing the priest over his weapon that was still pointed at him. "Are you priest?"
Frida's thoughts raged. Norsemen? From the North? We're in the North, so what does he mean?
She looked questioningly at Lady Liofrun, but she provided her with no answers. She only looked terrified, her head down and her shoulders almost reaching her ears.
Instead of answering the intruder, the priest started praying in rushed words.
The Norseman turned his head in a quick movement, making his twisted and almost talelike braiding fall over his shoulder, and he spoke words that Frida easily recognized to be foreign. Whatever he said made the men laugh out hoarsely behind their beards.
Another giant stepped forward, and Frida exhaled deeply when she saw him pull up a villager of the crowd, Gotfried was his name, and quickly drew an ax to his throat.
"Treasure," the braided man said, "or death."
Half of the villagers screamed out in panic as Gotfried's throat was sliced right open, blood squirting out violently in front of them.
Frida's eyes opened in fear, and she felt her blood freeze. She looked intently back at the priest, but to her dismay, he only continued praying now with his eyes closed.
As if closing one's eyes can make the horror go away.
She felt anger dwell in her stomach, as another man was pulled out of the crowd of villagers by a Norse, and she felt her hands twitch in irritation.
What is he doing? She thought, still eyeing the priest as if to communicate with him. God was not going to help them right now.
"Treasure," the man repeated louder, as if the priest had not heard him, "or death." The villager fell to the ground with his throat sliced open, gurgling, and Frida stared at him as the life left his eyes.
This has to stop!
The priest fell down to his knees and held his folded hands up for God to hear him as another villager was pulled from the crowd. Frida could not help herself anymore. If the priest was not going to help his fellow men, well, then she was.
"Stop!" she screamed out as she rose to her feet, untangling herself from Lady Liofrun's hands that tried to keep her on the floor.
As all the Norsemen's eyes fell upon her, she quickly turned to the priest so that her courage would not fail her just yet.
"Your Lord will not help you right now," she gasped at the priest, who opened his tear filled eyes to look at her, "Can't you see that these men are not afraid of Him?"
Lady Liofrun started sobbing loudly, as the braided man laughed out heartily and turned around to face Frida. The devilish man murmured something, probably questioning what she had said, and she stared at him angrily when the man in front translated. Their language sounded soft but awkward, as if they had food in their mouth.
All the Norsemen laughed when hearing what Frida had said, and the devilishly looking man spat on Gotfried's lifeless body. It had her blood boil with an angry fire.
She felt the braided man's eyes on her, but she only faced the priest, saying: "Please, give them whatever treasure they so eagerly want before more innocent blood is spilled."
She tried to speak fast to prevent their braided leader from understanding. She saw the priest slowly shaking his head.
"Wait," said the foreign man, "Come here, girl."
Frida gulped down and looked at her feet.
Now, it is my time to die, she thought to herself.
But just as the thought had sounded in her head, she immediately felt a sudden warmth spreading through her body, a calm sensation dripping upon her heart and further down to her feet, forcing her to move forward to the terrifying Norseman. She could hear the villagers murmur silently between them, and she felt tears starting to wet her cheeks.
"You say 'your God'," the foreign man breathed inquiringly, "Is it not your God too?"
Frida closed her eyes, ready for her death.
She had no answer to give him, because she did not know herself. She felt a giant hand clasp around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. A musky scent of leather, blood and dirt made its way into her nostrils.
Something in her regretted standing up.
"What is your name?" the Norse asked as he put his arms around her, as if they were close friends. Too close for any stranger behaving in any decent respect whatsoever.
The warm sensation filled her face, and she slowly opened her eyes to look at his face.
A couple of icy blue eyes pierced through her, through her soul and into an even deeper layer of herself that she never knew existed. Her legs suddenly gave up on her, and she fell to her knees, her eyes still interlocked with his. Time seemed to stand still, the world seemed to have died out as she felt his intense stare, and she exhaled deeply.
She only managed to whisper a single word before her entire body collapsed: "All-father..."