When we last left the marshes outside Maldon, Essex, England, in 991, the ealdorman, Byrhtnoth, held his fyrd, or militia, at bay while he surveyed the scene: a band of Viking raiders who had already terrorized the southern coasts of Kent, presumably under the leadership of the future king of Norway, Olaf Tryggvason, was amassed on Northey Island, a small patch of barely visible land right smack in the middle of the mouth of River Blackwater. Byrhtnoth was undermanned, but he had a plan. A brilliant one, in fact. The question is: Will it work? Will it alone be enough to send these Vikings packing once and for all.
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