Hey there! TJ here from the Gibbons House Blog—it's great to have you here!
Today's post is going to be a bit different.
Some of you might know that I am a Viking reenactor with a group called The Black Crow Vikings in Herefordshire. While we don't focus heavily on 'Living History,' we are more of a combat group. Each of us has crafted our own Viking persona and backstory. The more thought we put into our stories, the stronger our characters become during shows!
I’m excited to share my journey with you through the eyes of Heathkona Balari, my Viking persona.
Disclaimer: Please note that this may not be 100% historically accurate. I’m not a historian—just a modern Viking!
Heill!
My name is Heathkona Balari, and I am a woman of the Viking era. While I identify as a Viking, it's important to note that many women did not, as the term "Viking" translates to "raider" or "pirate."
I wasn't always a Viking, so to understand my present, you need to know my past.
I was born in Scandinavia, alongside my two younger brothers and sister, all of whom remained in Scandinavia with our parents.
My childhood was busy, with my mother teaching my sister and me how to manage a household. Our tasks included cooking and baking, tending to the animals we raised, and repairing or making clothes. The women were the backbone of the village, regarded as vital and too valuable to risk in combat. My mother was a clothes merchant, and we often spent our days at the market selling her goods. My favorite tasks were cooking and caring for the animals. I found great satisfaction in preparing a meal from the chickens we raised and in cultivating our own herbs and vegetables.
My father and brothers would often head down to the docks or venture to the river, spending their days fishing. My brothers learned valuable skills from one of the best fishermen in the village. Many of the fish they caught were reserved by the Jarl for his grand feasts. The boys were captivated by the idea of becoming warriors and would often spar with our father.
While my sister showed little interest in the skills of men, I found them fascinating. From a young age, I would join in the play fights, learning to swing one of our wooden axes and balance my father's spear while holding his shield. I say "holding," but it took me a few years to manage it, as it was quite heavy!
Father also had a hunting bow, which he frequently used to catch rabbits, deer, and other game for our dinners. That was my favorite of his weapons. Despite the judgments from fellow villagers, he taught me how to use it and how to craft my own bow and arrows. It turned out I was quite skilled.
As much as I loved to join in with the boys, I couldn't do so as often as I wished. My responsibilities lay elsewhere—women were expected to manage the household.
Contrary to popular belief, women's rights were not as limited as some may think. We could own land, have our own money, and often had a say in our marriages. We were also able to divorce our husbands if they committed a crime against us. Women could trade our crafts, run businesses, and if our husbands died in battle or from illness, the home would belong to us.
Women were seen as valuable assets, and without us, the villages would struggle to run smoothly. This is why female Vikings were rare, although many women knew how to fight to defend their homes if their husbands were away raiding.
When I was 15, my parents introduced me to the son of the village blacksmith, suggesting that it would be a beneficial match for us to marry. We belonged to two well-known families and had a good relationship with the Jarl and his family. After spending some time together, we agreed to the proposal, and within a year, we were wed.
I moved into his family's dwelling, as was customary, and we had a small section of the home to ourselves, though we would join his family for meals. Ivar was kind and a gentleman; he treated me well, although it was fair to say our relationship lacked the warmth of true love. My parents were fortunate in that regard—not many couples experience the same kind of love they did.
I assisted Ivar's mother with household chores and cared for his younger siblings. We tried for children of our own, but had little success.
After a few years, Ivar saved enough money from his work as a blacksmith to buy our own place. We chose a small, abandoned home on the edge of the village. It needed a lot of work, but it was affordable for us.
Still without children, Ivar taught me the skills necessary to fix up the house, and it soon became a true home for us. Our livestock numbers grew, and we even acquired a couple of sheep. My mother was especially pleased, as she would collect their wool when we sheared them in the spring, turning it into the finest clothing. My favorite cloak was a gift from her one Yuletide.
Ivar would sometimes allow me to use his bow, which helped me keep my shooting skills sharp.
However, a shadow loomed over us as a young couple in the village without any children. I was constantly bombarded with home remedies and old wives' tales on how to fix my "problem." The growing pressure was overwhelming, but Ivar reassured me that he didn't mind at all. In fact, he enjoyed our life as it was, and his blacksmith trade was thriving.
The year I turned twenty-three was overwhelming—so much happened.
The Jarl announced that there had been several raids on a land called England, and all the men in the villages were called to battle. The plan was to overthrow a large stronghold known as Eboracum, with hopes of settling there. Many villagers, including our parents, were appalled by the idea of leaving their homes, but Ivar and I viewed it as an adventure, a chance to escape societal expectations.
We agreed that upon his return from battle, we would sail together on the next ship and find a new home.
A year later, after the battle had been won and Jorvik—now known as York—secured from the Saxons, Ivar and I sold our home and livestock and traveled across the sea.
However, Ivar was never the same after the battle. His eyes carried shadows that I could not penetrate, and his behavior toward me had changed. He was often cold and distant or filled with anger. We argued many times during the journey, and his true feelings about our lack of children became painfully clear. He claimed I was not good enough for him. The shadows from the battle never left his side.
We eventually reached new lands and found a decent-sized home. Once again, I cultivated our little farm, tended to the livestock, and managed the household while Ivar established his new blacksmith business. However, this time, our relationship was strained. He spent less and less time at home.
Starting a new life away from everyone we knew was daunting, but we weren’t alone; villagers from other settlements in Scandinavia had also taken the plunge, and some became our neighbors.
The Thane of our village was an honorable man, and we lived in harmony with the local English inhabitants. Our village was lively and communal, with traders and couples going about their daily routines, children helping their parents, and babies crying.
After a long day of caring for the animals and managing the house, I realized we were low on wheat for bread. I decided to take a stroll to the market to trade a bushel of carrots for some. Upon arriving in town, I spotted my husband leaning closely with another woman—one of our English neighbors.
Being the curious person I am, I followed them at a distance until they reached her home. They went inside and slammed the door behind them.
I barged in moments later to find them together, undressed and arm in arm.
I initiated a loud argument, making sure it was heard so the neighbors would come and witness what I had seen. To my relief, the woman’s husband was nearby and burst in to find the same scene.
Both of us demanded a divorce, declaring that we would not remain married to adulterers!
The divorces were finalized. Ivar and his lover were genuinely in love and had been courting since our arrival. They decided to return to Scandinavia, leaving me with the house and farm.
Now a single woman, I relished my newfound freedom. I had no children to care for, no worries, and no husband to please.
While it was common for a woman in my position to remarry, I had no desire to do so. I had no need, either.
Ivar had taught me enough to repair the house, and I was capable of taking care of myself.
During the long summer days, I often took Ivar’s hunting bow, which he had left behind, and ventured into the local woodlands with my own crafted arrows. I hunted game to sell at the market, alongside the extra vegetables and meat from the farm.
It turned out I was quite skilled at hunting, and thanks to my mother’s lessons, I was already adept at preparing and cooking the meat.
I earned a good income, and many people traded items like clothing, spices, or their services to help with repairs at the farm.
Eventually, I was able to hire a young girl from the village to help run the farm, allowing me to spend more time hunting, and I even learned to fish.
My meats caught the attention of the Thane’s cook. One day, as I was hauling in my catches, he approached me with a proposal.
They were planning to raid further south, and the Thane suggested I join them to provide fresh meats and fish for their journey, rather than relying on dried provisions.
I agreed and allowed a young couple to move into the house while I was away. They would tend to the livestock in exchange for shelter.
During the first raid, I gathered fresh herbs and edible plants from the woodlands we passed for the Vikings to enjoy in the evenings alongside the game I caught, and in return, they taught me combat skills.
One day, the Thane ordered me to pick up my bow as they prepared for another battle, facing a shortage of fighters.
I was terrified, but I loved the thrill of the fight. They started me off at the edge, where I shot my bow to take out some enemy men. Then they handed me a shield and a spear. It turned out I was quite adept with those as well.
After returning to the village with the money I earned from the raids, I commissioned the local blacksmith to craft a battle axe, a spear, and a light, quick sword.
It took him a year to complete the sword, but oh, how she slices through the air!
Now, I possess Sigrid, my spear, which means “beautiful victory,” Neci, my axe, meaning “fiery,” and my sword, known as tábitar, which translates to “Toe Biter.” Swords are rare among the Vikings as they cost so much and took so long to craft, though I now had one.
I now travel with the Thane and his group of Vikings as an experienced female warrior, aspiring to rise through the ranks and become a Hersir. I’m still working on that!
As I looked out over the horizon, I felt a sense of purpose and belonging that I had never known before. I was no longer a wife, but a warrior in my own right, ready to carve my own path in this world.
And so, with my spear Sigrid in hand and the spirit of the Vikings at my side, I embraced my destiny, ready for whatever adventures lay ahead.
Now. Obviously this didn't actually happen, though my ranking up in the Black Crow Viking group has been a combination of combat skill and history knowledge. I am the only woman in the group, and I love being one of the lads when it comes to the fights. They treat me with so much respect, and I have a bond with them all that I will never be able to forget, however far my life may take me from them one day. I hold my own in fights, too, being one of the skilled fighters in the group.
I hope you enjoyed the dive into my imagination!
Bye for now!
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