Sagas were stories told and retold down the ages by Norse peoples. Most of them are from Iceland, written down about events that were supposed to have occurred in Norway hundreds of years before.

They had to be interesting stories, with acts of bravery. But often they had acts of treachery, too. Many sagas are very long. Below here is one about a Viking raid on the shores of England. It is not a copy of an old saga, but one written in modern times. It might help you to think of how to write a saga, too.

It had been many days since Bjorn had last seen land. He was now a chieftain in his own right, and he had a band of trusty warriors with him.

Bjorn looked down the length of the longship that was under his command. Everyone was in high spirits. The ship was full of young men like himself, all eager to show off in front of their friends and to do daring deeds.

Everyone was relaxing. There was a good wind and the sail was carrying them along to their target – Britain. The oars were all stashed and the centre of the boat was still empty. ‘Not for long,’ thought Bjorn. ‘There is plenty of room for gold and silver, a good load of beer and food, and even for some slaves.’

Bjorn expected no trouble when he got to Britain. He had been well trained in hit-and-run tactics, and in any case he was going to hit a soft target – a monastery. ‘Lots of booty and no one to protect it,’ he said to himself. ‘Golden goblets and other precious things that can all be taken with ease. The hardest work will be ripping the jewels off the covers of the books they call Bibles. Yes, it was going to be all too easy. Well, if they will be that careless with their valuables, they deserve to have them taken.’

Bjorn looked right and left to where other longships were keeping pace. Together they would make a fine attacking force.

There had been gulls flying overhead for some hours now – a sure sign that land was close. Then, suddenly there was a shout and someone pointed. There on the grey, sunless horizon, was a darker band of colour. There was no doubt about it – it was land.

The order was given, the sail furled, and oars put into the water. Now everyone got tense. Oars cut through the waves as they made their final approach to the shore. The dragon’s head on the prow of the boat was a symbol of the warrior spirit of the men inside the boat. And so far there was no sign of defence, just people scurrying away so they would not be captured and taken as slaves. ‘Yes,’ thought Bjorn, ‘This will be all too easy!’