Literature often reveals profound spiritual truths in unexpected places. Stories of war, survival, and stealth—filled with moments of intense danger—seem, at first glance, far removed from discussions of faith. Yet, beneath the surface of these tales, we find echoes of something deeper: a longing for the divine, a search for meaning beyond the immediate struggle.

In Bernard Cornwell’s The Last Kingdom, the protagonist navigates a perilous landscape, crawling unseen through enemy lines. In Essex Dogs by Dan Jones, a warrior crouches in silence, waiting in the shadows. The Vikings of The Sea Wolves embrace an ethos of action, believing that hesitation means defeat. And within Cornwell’s world, too, we hear of shadow-walkers—figures who move unseen, mysterious and liminal, embodying the uncertainty between the physical and the spiritual.

These moments, though set in violent and pagan contexts, whisper of deeper realities. When examined closely, they reveal the hidden seeds of faith—instincts that, though not yet Christian, point toward a truth that would one day transform these warrior cultures.

Faith in the Unknown: The Warrior’s Instinct to Pray

In The Last Kingdom, the protagonist finds himself in the most vulnerable position possible—exposed, crawling through the mud, completely reliant on his own ability to remain unseen. Yet, in this moment, he does something profoundly human: he prays.

“I prayed to Hoder, blind son of Odin and god of the night. Look after me, I prayed, and I wished I had made a sacrifice to Hoder, but I had not…” (Cornwell, The Last Kingdom)

Even though he calls upon a false god, this act reveals something universal—the instinct to reach beyond oneself in moments of desperation. In Christian thought, this is what St. Paul describes in Acts 17:27:

“God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us.” (Acts 17:27)

The warrior’s prayer, though directed to Hoder, is still a cry of the soul for divine protection. It foreshadows the eventual Christianization of the Northmen, a time when these scattered seeds of faith—this innate sense that there is something beyond human strength—would take root in the fertile soil of divine grace.

Stealth and Stillness: The Paradox of Weakness and Strength

A similar theme appears in Essex Dogs, where the protagonist Loveday, in a moment of uncertainty, does not charge into battle but instead waits:

“Loveday did the only thing he could do. As he always did when in doubt. He waited. He listened. He controlled his breath. And he kept his eyes open.” (Jones, Essex Dogs)

Here, survival depends not on brute strength but on patience, discipline, and restraint. This paradox—where victory is found in stillness—echoes a profound biblical truth. Christ Himself tells us:

“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

And St. Paul reflects this in his own life:

“For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:10)

Just as the warrior must wait in silence to survive, so too must the Christian learn that faith often requires patience, trust, and endurance.

The Shadow-Walkers and the Unseen Kingdom

Another passage from The Last Kingdom introduces us to shadow-walkers—mysterious figures who move unseen, existing in a liminal space between the natural and the supernatural:

“There were shadow-walkers who moved silent and half-seen across the land, mysterious creatures who could change their shapes. One moment they were wolves, then they were men…” (Cornwell, The Last Kingdom)

This imagery captures a sense of the unknown, the fear of what lurks beyond the visible world. In many ways, this is how divine grace often operates. Christ describes the Kingdom of God as something hidden—like a mustard seed, growing quietly until it transforms everything (Luke 13:18-19).

The Call to Readiness: The Warrior Ethos and Christian Vigilance

The Viking axiom from The Sea Wolves states:

“Wake early if you want another man’s life or land. No land for the lazy wolf…” (Brownworth, The Sea Wolves)

This brutal philosophy highlights the necessity of action. In a warrior culture, hesitation means death. Yet, when transformed by faith, this same ethos takes on a different meaning. Christ also calls His followers to be vigilant—not for war and conquest, but for spiritual readiness:

“Stay awake, for you do not know the day or the hour.” (Matthew 25:13)

Faith is not passive. Just as the warrior must always be ready for battle, so too must the Christian be prepared, not for earthly war, but for spiritual combat.

A Grand Narrative of Conversion

Each of these passages—though steeped in violence, stealth, and survival—forms a larger story about faith’s quiet but unstoppable movement. The warriors who once lived by the sword would one day kneel before the cross.

The hands that once grasped axes and spears would one day be raised in prayer. The same discipline that kept them alive in the shadows of battle would become the discipline of monastic life, missionary work, and deep faith.

The seeds were always there, buried beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to grow.

Sources

1. Bernard Cornwell, The Last Kingdom – HarperCollins
2. Dan Jones, Essex Dogs – Penguin Random House
3. Lars Brownworth, The Sea Wolves – Penguin Random House
4. The Bible – BibleGateway