The Thanksgiving Surprise

Miles Bradford lowered the gun in his hands as he saw his brother Christopher approach.

"Have you found anything?" he asked.

"Nothing but deer and waterfowl," Miles replied, making a cursory sweep of the woods with his head. "A few strange carvings on the rocks by the river, but nothing else."

"Come back to town, then," Christopher followed his brother's survey before returning to make eye contact. "It's almost time for the feast to begin."

"I know, but I'm just worried," Miles stopped. "Hear that rustling? It could be some hostile Indians out here!"

"You know as well as I do the ones around here are tame," Christopher replied. "Come on, they're probably starting without us!"

After collapsing to his stubborn brother, Miles returned to the colony. As the two boys left the forest, a pair of eyes watched them from the undergrowth. Commands were spoken in an alien tongue as a group of camouflaged figures moved through the forest, following the two brothers.


Miles sat at the table. Pilgrims and Indians sat side by side, sharing food together. Miles would occasionally make a nervous glance towards the nearby woods. Christopher would try to redirect his attention back towards the feast. Since the only man who suspected something had let his guard down, they were completely unprepared for what was to come next.

A small army of European men stormed out of the forest, dressed in nothing but bearskins and crude armor. They charged with spears, axes, and swords at the dining guests from all sides, cutting down the few English militiamen and native braves before they could ready their weapons. The pathetic blows and struggles of the victims did nothing but enrage their attackers further.

By the end of the day, the colony and nearby native village were burnt to the ground. The inhabitants were killed or taken as slaves. Their captors, the descendants of a lost Viking colony, lead them to a new life in the frozen, unexplored north. An English supply ship would land a month later, discovering the empty, overgrown ruins of the Plymouth colony. It would vanish into history as a second, vanished colony after Roanoke. The Vikings were now are of the English settlement attempts, and more importantly, the new gunpowder weapons they had captured. They gave thanks to the Aesir from that day on for granting them gunpowder.