Original subtitles

Archaeologists make a grim discovery in a Slovakian town.

In a space of roughly 160 square feet,

there were dozens of skeletons piled together in a chaotic heap.

Every one of them was missing its head, except for one:

A young child.

Excavations had gone on here for over a decade before this discovery.

But the fact that the heads were missing was definitely strange,

nothing like it had ever been discovered in Europe.

So who were these people, and what happened here?

A remarkable creature emerges from the Siberian permafrost.

Dark brown fur was peeking up through the frozen mud.

Now, this area is known for ice age remains like woolly mammoths

and rhinoceros.

So the first guess was maybe it's one of those animals,

but this was something completely different.

The proportions are strange, and the head shape is unfamiliar.

So what is this little creature,

and how did it come to rest on the banks of this remote river?

A cache of ancient stone tools is uncovered

in the small Norwegian town of Horten.

A treasure trove of artifacts was discovered,

including ancient stone axes, fragments of tools and fishhooks.

In total, 5,000 objects were discovered,

but there's one incredibly rare find that stands out: a shaft-hole club.

The question is,

what exact purpose did the Horten shaft-hole club serve?

These are the strangest mysteries

trapped in the coldest places.

Lost relics.

Forgotten treasures.

Dark secrets.

Locked in their icy tombs for ages.

But now, as ice melts around the world,

their stories will finally be exposed.

In southwestern Slovakia,

the town of Vrable sits in the fertile Zitava River valley,

not far from the Danube basin.

The landscape here is defined by expansive plains and rolling hills.

The river and its tributaries create these wide floodplains

with huge deposits of sediment and limestone.

Winters here bring a steady cold of freezing temperatures,

often reaching below -20 degrees Fahrenheit.

Snow and ice blanket the ground for weeks

and strong frigid winds sweep across the open fields.

This area has been inhabited for thousands of years,

going back to the Stone Age.

Celtic tribes settled here,

followed by Germanic groups such as the Quadi.

Then in the 5th and 6th century CE,

Slavic peoples arrived and established communities

that became the foundation for the population living here today.

In the summer of 2022,

a team of Archaeologists is excavating a Neolithic ditch site

just outside of Vrable when they make a chilling discovery.

In a space of roughly 160 square feet,

there were dozens of skeletons piled together in a chaotic heap.

Some were on their backs with limbs splayed out,

others were on their stomachs, and some were curled on their sides.

They were stacked two or three deep in places,

and the position suggested that they were thrown

or rolled into the ditch, rather than carefully buried.

But most striking, every one of them was missing its head,

except for one: a young child.

Excavations had gone on here for over a decade before this discovery,

it's one of Central Europe's largest neolithic sites

and includes more than 300 ancient longhouses

and a distinctive pottery dating back over 7,000 years.

So finding ancient remains wasn't particularly unusual.

But the fact that the heads were missing was definitely strange,

nothing like it had ever been discovered in Europe.

So who were these people and what happened here?

Radiocarbon dating places the skeletons at around 5250 BCE.

These people were part of the LBK,

which is a German acronym for the "Linear Pottery Culture."

They were named after the distinct linear decorations on their pottery.

The LBK lived across much of Central Europe,

from areas west of the Rhine through what is now Germany,

Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, and Poland.

They were the first to establish widespread farming communities here,

growing crops and raising livestock.

The Vrable settlement was massive for the period.

The 300 longhouses were divided into three distinct neighbourhoods;

about 70 of them would have been occupied housing hundreds of people.

This kind of population density was exceptional for the LBK.

Most LBK settlements were smaller,

often just a handful of longhouses grouped along rivers

or on fertile ground.

Vrable stands out with its distinct arrangement, shared wells,

storage pits, and fields that supported the community.

The LBK period wasn't always peaceful.

There's evidence of brutal conflicts between communities,

violent clashes over territory and resources

that left entire settlements destroyed.

So could the headless bodies be the victims

of one of these violent territorial disputes?

About 420 miles west of Vrable,

in Talheim, Germany, in 1983,

archaeologists uncovered an LBK mass grave

that's become known as the "Death Pit."

The grave contained 34 men, women and children

dating back to around 5,000 years BCE.

Much like at Vrable, the bodies were discarded in a ditch

without any suggestion of burial rituals or a ceremony,

they looked like they were just thrown away like garbage.

The victims ranged from young children to the elderly,

so it looked like an entire community was targeted;

several skulls showed clear blunt force trauma

from heavy stone tools,

evidence of a brutal massacre

carried out by another Neolithic farming community.

Maybe that's also what happened at Vrable.

But a closer look at the Vrabla remains showed that

in several skeletons, the first neck vertebra was still intact.

So the heads weren't hacked off in a battle,

they were removed carefully, almost surgically,

and possibly after death.

And there's no evidence of physical trauma or defensive wounds

on the bones to suggest that these people died in a violent struggle.

As the team continues examining the headless individuals,

they make another significant discovery.

Some of the remains are out of anatomical position,

and it looks like older skeletons were pushed toward

the middle of the ditch.

It's as if they were making more room,

deliberately clearing space for new bodies.

The LBK people typically buried their dead

in individual graves close to loved ones.

The bodies were placed on their side in a crouched position

with some grave goods.

But what we're seeing in this ditch is nothing like that.

Why would so many members of this community end up buried in this way?

In 2024, in Sweden and Denmark,

researchers studying ancient burial sites made a startling discovery.

Experts studied the DNA of 108 people

buried in ancient stone graves called passage tombs,

these are these big, stone-covered chambers

used to bury whole groups of people all at once.

Now, 18 of those people tested positive for a bacteria

called Yersinia Pestis.

That is the bacteria that causes the plague.

These people lived between 5,200 and 4,900 years ago.

But it's believed that the bacterium could have emerged

hundreds of years earlier.

The disease spread in separate waves over 300 years,

and it may have contributed to the collapse

of early farming communities across Northern Europe.

So could the people at Vrable have been quickly buried

in the outer ditch, apart from the rest of the settlement,

because they'd succumbed to an epidemic of some kind?

The heads might have been removed in accordance with the beliefs

of some ancient cultures that the skull held spiritual power

and could even carry disease.

It's possible, but it's unlikely.

Researchers were unable to test for the plague

because sometimes you can find evidence of it in the teeth

of ancient skeletons,

but almost all the heads were missing off those skeletons,

so that wasn't possible.

There was one infant skull that they could test,

that one came back negative.

And besides all of that,

none of the other bones show any evidence of disease or infection.

So the plague is unlikely.

And there's also no evidence of any other disease.

So what could possibly explain so many deaths all at once?

And why are they missing their heads?

In 1996, about 460 miles west of Vrable,

in Herxheim, Germany,

construction workers digging for an industrial park

uncovered ancient human bones.

Eventually, over 1,000 individuals were found buried

in a series of pits around an ancient settlement

dated to between 5300 and 4950 BCE,

the same period as Vrable.

Shockingly, the bodies had been systematically dismembered,

bones smashed open to extract the marrow,

and skulls carefully carved into cups.

The site showed definite evidence of ritual cannibalism.

Archaeologists uncovered hundreds of human bone fragments

in those pits,

mixed with animal remains and ritual deposits.

The scale of the site's enclosures

suggest it was a major gathering place,

drawing large groups to the area.

A chemical analysis of the pottery indicates that people travelled

to Herxheim from hundreds of miles away.

Researchers believe that they were brought to the site

where they were killed

and then consumed in elaborate ceremonies

that probably went on for weeks.

Is this what happened at Vrable?

Could the beheadings have been part of a similar cannibalistic ritual?

It's not likely.

The bones here lack the extensive cut marks

or crushing found at Herxheim,

and there's no evidence of marrow extraction or cooking.

And while the heads were removed, the bodies weren't dismembered.

Searching for answers,

the team then shifts focus to the surrounding settlement.

As they map the structures, fields, and ditches,

new details started to emerge.

The settlement stretched across dozens of hectares.

The three main sections each covered roughly 15 hectares,

about 35 to 40 acres,

and all shared a similar trapezoidal shape

with clusters of longhouses, work areas, and open yards.

But one section had a notable different layout than the others.

The neighbourhood next to the mass grave

was the only one of the three with elaborate fortifications.

They had a double-ditch system reinforced with wooden palisades

and five gates, each one facing away from the other two settlements.

For centuries, the neighbourhood was open.

But toward the end of the settlement's existence,

around 5075 BCE,

they added this enclosure with the ditches running parallel

around the longhouses.

This wasn't about defending against outsiders,

it was about separating from their neighbours.

These fortifications were built to block contact

with the other settlements,

which suggests deep internal conflict and tension within the community.

The placement of the headless bodies in the ditch

may have been part of a protective ritual

tied to social unrest or fear.

In the LBK culture, skulls were believed to hold spiritual power.

The heads may have been kept separately for veneration

or even placed on the palisades as part of this protective act.

While it isn't yet determined whether the deaths

were intentional killings or natural,

these bodies weren't disposed of randomly.

This was an intentional act,

possibly tied to a larger ritual aimed at protecting the community

or asserting control during a time of crisis.

So far, archaeologists have uncovered

nearly 85 headless skeletons at Vrable.

And each season, they expect to find the end of this mass grave,

but it just keeps going.

Of all the bodies, only one skull is turned up.

The mystery of these remains continues.

Almost 40 miles south of Oslo, Norway,

along the western shore of the Oslofjord sits the town of Horten.

The landscape around modern-day Horten has undergone dramatic change

over the past 9,000 years.

Thanks to a post-glacial rebound,

sea levels were once nearly 230 feet higher than they are today.

What is now a bustling seaside town

would have been a sheltered coastal cove back then.

Today, the area's known for its beautiful seaside walkways,

scenic cycling routes, and popular hiking trails.

It's a great place for physical activity in the summer,

as the climate here is generally cool,

with summer temperatures rarely climbing above 60 degrees Fahrenheit.

But come winter,

things get icy as temperatures plunge to a bitter -13 degrees Fahrenheit.

This region has a rich royal history,

it's home to the largest concentration of kings' graves

in all of Scandinavia.

Because of this deep historical significance,

Norway's strict cultural heritage laws mandate

that an archaeological survey must be carried out

before any major excavation or modern development can take place.

In the fall of 2025,

a routine survey is carried out before construction is set to begin

on a planned bike path through town.

But what's discovered below the surface is anything but ordinary.

The remains of a house foundation measuring about 30 square feet

were uncovered.

This was a huge discovery

and a sign of an ancient settlement that was previously unknown.

But it didn't end there;

a treasure trove of artifacts was also discovered,

including ancient stone axes, fragments of tools,

various bones, and fishhooks.

In total, 5,000 objects were discovered,

but there's one incredibly rare find that stands out,

a shaft-hole club,

which is an ancient weapon or tool characterised by

a carefully crafted hole through the stone head,

designed to be attached to a handle or a shaft.

While the object was found broken,

it holds remarkable historical significance,

and it would have been painstakingly drilled

with various prehistoric tools. The question is,

what exact purpose did the Horten shaft-hole club serve?

Radiocarbon testing of the remains of charred hazelnuts

found at the site

reveals that the artifacts and foundation date back

to the early Stone Age, about 9,000 years ago.

It's likely that a maritime Mesolithic community settled

in the area.

The group had a nomadic lifestyle and built small temporary shelters

so that they could follow animal herds and changing seasons.

But this discovery offers a glimpse into a time

of rapid transition in the region.

Communities that were once constantly on the move

began to settle down,

building more permanent homes along the fjord.

Fishing became a crucial part of their survival.

They also started investing more time and energy

into making tools like stone axes with fully polished blades.

Creating these required extensive grinding and polishing,

a process far more demanding than the simple flaking techniques

used in earlier times.

Almost 750 miles away in Ach Valley

in southwestern Germany is Hohle Fels Cave,

where a 35,000-year-old ivory tool was discovered.

15 pieces of mammoth ivory were recovered and pieced together

to form a perforated baton with four holes.

The artifact measured almost eight inches long,

about an inch and a half wide, and an inch and a halfway thick.

The tool is well-preserved,

and the edges of the grooves in the hole were still sharp.

It was likely used to make twine by threading plant fibres

or leather strips through the holes

and pulling them together to twist and bind them into rope.

The discovery provides clear evidence of rope-making technology

in the Palaeolithic era.

This provides significant insight into early human craftsmanship.

So maybe the Horten shaft-hole club served a similar purpose.

9,000 years ago, the Horten settlement would have sat

directly on the water, where boats were essential for survival.

The people of the Nostvet culture, who inhabited the area at the time,

were known for their woodworking axes,

which would have been used to hollow out logs to build canoes.

The shaft-hole club may have been a tool used to bind bark

or hide to hold early boats together.

Nearly 300 miles to the south,

on the island of Zealand in Denmark,

archaeologists made a striking similar discovery to the Horten Club,

an axe that was on earth along a sandy ridge in an ancient bog.

The greenish-grey Danubian shaft-hole axe

is made up of layered crystalline rock.

It has curved narrow sides with a hole in the centre.

While it was found in Denmark,

the type of rock used isn't generally found in the area.

And it's believed that the axe is an import from Central Europe.

The interesting part is that the locally sourced flint

was actually more durable than the imported material.

So why would they go to such lengths

to bring it in from hundreds of miles away?

The tool might not have been meant for practical use.

Its purpose could have been more symbolic,

all the more so since it came across such a long trade route.

It likely was more of a status symbol,

one that may have served as a funerary offering

to honour an important person in death.

So is it possible that the Horten shaft-hole club served

a similar purpose?

It's possible. Voted offerings are well documented across Scandinavia.

Lakes and fjords were seen as sacred,

almost like gateways to the spirit world.

In many cases, valuable items were deliberately broken

before being placed in the water.

And the shaft-hole club was found broken.

It was believed that breaking them released their spirit,

sending it on to the supernatural realm.

But drilling the shaft hole would have taken a lot of time

and skill using specialised tools.

And smoothing the stone,

perhaps with sand or similar abrasives,

would have required even more effort.

Considering the amount of work involved,

it seems counterintuitive to toss it away.

South of Norway, in France, archaeologists have discovered

one of humankind's earliest inventions:

a perforated baton used as a spear thrower.

This weapon, which predates the bow and arrow,

was made of antler or bone and could be up to 35,000 years old.

The baton is typically about six to eight inches long,

with a hole drilled near one end, close to the joint.

In many examples, a second hole can be found further down the shaft.

It's believed that this tool functioned

as a kind of spear thrower.

A rope would be looped through one of the holes

and wrapped around the shaft,

allowing the baton to act as a lever,

giving the thrower more power and distance.

In essence, it worked like an extension of the arm,

increasing the speed and range of whatever was being launched.

So could the Horten's shaft-hole club have been exactly that?

A projectile of sorts?

The Mesolithic era in Norway was a time of rapid innovation

in hunting technology,

when specialised weapons were being developed to target specific prey.

So this theory does make sense, but if you think about it,

there's a pretty big gap in it too.

The Horten shaft-hole club is surprisingly heavy,

probably too heavy to have been attached to something weaker

like wood or antlers.

A closer look at the club offers some insight

into its practical function,

but its true purpose extends beyond its day-to-day use.

There are clear wear marks on the club that suggest

it was used as a pounding tool.

The patterns point to repeated, heavy impacts,

suggesting the tool was used as a hammer during the Stone Age.

This could explain why it's broken due to repeated use.

But there are certain features that suggest it was more

than just a simple tool.

This item is an incredibly rare discovery.

Similar items that have been discovered from later periods

in western Norway have had intricate designs carved into them,

pointing to more of a symbolic function.

The design suggests that it may have been used as a sceptre

or as a dual purpose tool by a skilled trades person

that likely makes practical use with social or ritual function.

One thing is certain:

What began as a simple bike path project

ended with the discovery of a remarkable artifact,

offering a rare and unexpected glimpse into Norway's Stone Age past.

In the far northeast of Siberia lies the Abyysky District,

a remote region of the Republic of Sakha

that spans nearly 27,000 square miles.

This is a vast landscape of scattered forests,

open tundra, and some of the coldest temperatures on Earth.

For most of the year,

the temperatures stay well below freezing.

And in midwinter, the cold can reach -60 degrees Fahrenheit.

Abyysky is sparsely populated.

Small villages and seasonal camps are spread along the river valleys

where reindeer herding, fishing, and hunting remain a way of life.

Moose and wild horses roam the open plains,

much like the megafauna that once dominated this landscape

thousands of years ago.

Beneath the surface lies continuous permafrost,

ancient frozen ground that has remained undisturbed

in this region for tens of thousands of years.

In some places, it's over a thousand feet deep,

locking away prehistoric pollen, plant matter,

and even traces of animal DNA.

But as global temperatures rise, the ice has begun to thaw,

sometimes revealing incredible hidden secrets.

In the summer of 2020,

a group of mammoth tusk hunters work along the frozen banks

of the Badyarikha River.

They're scanning the ground for ivory

when one of them notices something unexpected.

Just above the water line, dark brown fur was peeking up

through the frozen mud.

Now, this area is known for Ice Age remains,

like woolly mammoths and rhinoceros.

So the first guess was, maybe it's one of those animals.

But it did not take long for them to realise

this was something completely different.

When they chipped away the frozen soil,

a tiny head appeared,

along with front legs and part of a chest.

It looked like a small cat with short, soft fur,

but its thick neck and muscular build set it apart

from any ordinary kitten.

Nearby, they uncovered part of the pelvis

still attached to the femur and chin bones,

just as well-preserved as the rest of the remains.

What they found doesn't resemble any species they've seen before.

The proportions are strange, and the head shape is unfamiliar.

It's hard to tell anything else on initial inspection.

So what is this little creature,

and how did it come to rest on the banks of this remote river?

The discovery is reported to scientists in Moscow.

Within days,

the frozen remains arrive at the Russian Academy of Sciences

for closer examination.

The frozen ground had preserved the remains of this creature,

keeping the body almost exactly as it was the moment it froze.

The fur is about an inch long, and it's rich in colour.

The animal's muscles are clearly visible beneath its really thick fur

and skin,

especially in the front half of the body.

What stands out is how developed they are for an animal of this size.

The cub has long, lean forelimbs

built for chasing prey across open ground.

Its paws are rounded ,like a lynx, with wide, square pads.

But it doesn't have the small wrist pads

called carpal pads that most cats do.

And while this probably helped it move more smoothly

over open snow and ice, which is perfect for the environment,

it's an anomaly, even for ancient cats.

When they examined the skull and neck and compared it

with a lion cub, the differences were striking.

This cub's skull is shorter, heavier, and the neck is more than

twice as thick, packed with muscle built

for exerting serious force from the jaw.

It's clear to them this is no feline they've ever come across.

The team sequences the well-preserved DNA

and makes a stunning discovery.

The cub belonged to the legendary sabre-toothed cats,

officially known as the Homotherium Latidens,

a fearsome group that roamed the Ice Age

with their iconic, deadly teeth.

Though once one of the top predators across much of the world,

Homotheria went extinct around 12,000 years ago.

Judging by its incisors,

the cub was estimated to be about three weeks old when it died.

This was really an extraordinary discovery.

It was the first finding of a mummified sabre-toothed kitten.

Quality Homotherium specimens are very rare.

Their fossils show up in Eurasia and across North America,

but almost never as full skeletons.

These predators lived mainly on open steppes,

where natural elements and scavengers destroyed remains

before they could ever fossilize, but there are exceptions.

In 1949,

palaeontologists were excavating Friesenhahn Cave in Texas.

They found at least three examples of Homotherium,

including two juveniles ranging from two to four months old.

They lived around 20,000 years ago.

The cave was their den,

so the juvenile bones were protected and they stayed complete.

But scientists had never seen the fur or the flesh before.

Radiocarbon dating is performed on the remains

and the results leave the researchers taken aback.

This cub died between 35 and 37,000 years ago,

and everything about it is fascinating.

The coat, the paws, the skull.

But more than that, there are just so many questions.

Like, the most basic one, how did it die?

In 2010, several hundred miles north of the Badyarikha River,

near the village of Yukagir,

another team of tusk hunters came across something remarkable.

In the Siberian permafrost lay the remains of a young, woolly mammoth,

later named "Yuka."

She was a young female, about six years old,

who lived roughly 39,000 years ago.

Her body still had long, reddish fur and soft tissue,

even parts of the brain were intact.

Across her legs and underside were deep claw marks,

likely from a large predator, such as a cave lion.

But they also found clean, straight cuts along the hide

that could only have come from sharp stone tools,

the kind early hunters used.

This suggested that soon after the predator attack,

humans arrived and butchered the carcass for meat and bone.

So humans and Ice Age predators were sharing the same hunting grounds,

sometimes even the same kills.

If humans were competing with sabre-toothed cats for survival,

maybe they saw them as direct threats and sought to eliminate

future competition by killing young cats whenever they encountered them.

Maybe that's what ended the life of the cub

found at the Badyarikha River.

It's possible, but the cup's remains show no cut marks,

no signs of scavenging, and nothing to indicate human interference.

So if humans weren't responsible,

what about predators that shared this landscape?

The frigid Abysiak district was a battlefield

of large carnivores like wolverines, cave lions, tundra wolves, and bears.

We know that big predators today can sometimes come into conflict,

especially when members of the same species

compete for territory or for mates.

Among lions, sometimes males will kill the cubs of females

in the hopes that those females will then mate with him sooner.

So maybe one of those scenarios could explain this dead cub.

But if a predator attacked,

we'd expect to see some bite marks, puncture wounds,

or signs of a struggle.

The cubs' remains have none of that.

And predators don't just kill and walk away,

they feed on their kills quickly.

For the sabre-toothed cub to end up so well-preserved like this,

it would need to be buried instantly after the attack,

before any consumption began.

The state of the remains just doesn't fit with

that kind of attack.

In 2016, in the Yukon Territory

of northwestern Canada,

miners unearthed the frozen remains of a young Ice Age wolf.

Researchers named her "Zhur," which means wolf in the local dialect.

She lived about 57,000 years ago

and was perfectly preserved inside her den.

She got sealed in there when meltwater and sediment

flooded in during this rapid thaw.

When she was discovered, her skin, her fur,

even her internal organs were all intact,

a lot like this sabre-toothed cub.

So could an event like that have also killed this cub?

It's possible.

The sabre-toothed cub's body was encased in fine layers

of silt and mud,

and this region experienced dramatic temperature swings.

In early summer,

melting ice could swell the river far beyond its banks.

If an ice dam burst upstream,

it could have sent a surge of water and mud

just roaring through the valley.

A sudden flash flood like that could have buried this cub

pretty much instantly.

But that doesn't really fit with the evidence.

The cub was embedded in the riverbank,

and the sediment layers don't show any signs of a flood like that.

Examining the geology more closely,

researchers make a significant discovery.

The region where the sabre-toothed cub was found

is part of what's called the Yedoma permafrost,

ice-rich ground that's stable when frozen,

but extremely unstable when it thaws.

Even minor warming can melt the ice wedges within it,

causing the ground to lose its structure in a process

known as "thermokarst."

When that happens, entire sections of land can slump and collapse.

35,000 years ago, the time of this sabre-toothed cub's short life,

the region was experiencing a warmer phase.

So the most likely explanation for how this cub died

and got preserved so well

is probably that the young cub was in its den

when the riverbank just gave way.

The rapid burial created a cool oxygen-free environment.

That's why there are no bite marks

or signs of scavenging or typical decomposition.

The same permafrost that led to the sabre-toothed cub's death

preserved it perfectly.

Researchers continue to study the DNA from the ancient cub,

hoping to unlock more secrets about how these apex legendary predators

lived and hunted across the Ice Age Steppe.

In eastern Sweden,

the capital city of Stockholm is built across 14 islands.

Numerous bridges connect them, forming a maze of narrow streets

and waterways.

This landscape was shaped by the last Ice Age,

when massive glaciers compressed the land below water level.

Over millennia, the ground slowly rose again,

becoming a network of rocky islands positioned between Lake Malaren

and the Baltic Sea.

Winters in Stockholm are long, dark and bitterly cold.

Daylight shrinks to as little as six hours per day

and temperatures regularly drop well below freezing.

The waters surrounding the islands freeze over

and snow blankets the rocky hilltops.

For centuries, communities developed here as farmers

and traders, establishing themselves along the waterways

and making the most of their strategic location.

During the Viking Age, Swedish seafarers dominated

the Baltic routes and northern seas,

building networks that connected the region to distant kingdoms

and empires.

One fall day in 2024, just outside of Stockholm,

a local fisherman is digging for bait

when his shovel strikes something solid in the ground.

When he cleared away the mud,

he found this old, worn copper vessel,

and inside it, a whole bunch of silver.

So he immediately contacted the Stockholm authorities,

and they sent archaeologists to secure the site.

This was no ordinary discovery.

The cauldron was filled with thousands of silver coins

and mixed among them were beads, rings, and other decorative items.

Altogether, the hoard weighed more than 13 pounds.

Early estimates suggested there were as many as 20,000 individual coins.

So why would somebody bury such a valuable treasure

and never come back to retrieve it?

Scientists analysed the coins to determine

when the deposit was placed in the ground.

And the results are surprising.

Most of the coins date to around the year 1195 or 1196.

Stockholm wasn't even founded until half a century after that.

So this treasure was buried before the city even existed.

Silver was a symbol of wealth and power in 12th century Scandinavia.

Hoards like this are rare in Sweden because silver was not mined locally.

So most of it arrived through trade, gifts, or raids,

but discoveries do happen.

In 2020, roughly 10 miles northeast of Stockholm, in Taby,

archaeologists excavating a farming settlement

uncovered another intriguing treasure.

Beneath the remains of an ancient wooden floor,

they discovered a ceramic pot sealed with a stone.

Inside was more than 13 pounds of precious metal;

there were neck rings, arm rings,

and a fabric pouch holding 12 European and Arabic coins

that had been turned into pendants.

The hoard was dated to between the years 904 and 997.

That is right in the heart of the Viking Age.

And at first, it was thought maybe these are just

somebody's personal valuables.

Maybe they gained them through trade

and then hid them under the floor to keep them safe.

But as excavations kept going,

that scenario got less and less likely

because they found buildings with evidence of rituals.

And close to that silver hoard, they also found burial grounds.

Taken together, the evidence suggested this treasure

was a deliberate offering,

something meant to honour the gods and remain in the ground.

So could the silver treasure found in Stockholm

have been the result of a similar practice?

That's an unlikely scenario.

By the late 12th century, Sweden was predominantly Christian,

and the old Norse rituals were fading.

Also, the Stockholm collection includes rare Christian bishop coins

from medieval Europe, not pagan amulets.

And there's no evidence of ceremonial structures

or religious activity at the site.

The team takes a closer look at the contents of the hoard.

Among the thousands of coins,

they found one silver piece from Gotland Island,

which sits about 50 miles to the east of Stockholm,

between the Swedish mainland and the Baltic states.

During the Viking Age, it made for a natural stopping point

for sea merchants and is sometimes called the "Silver Island,"

because over 700 hoards have been discovered there,

dating from the 9th to the 12th century.

Gotlanders buried their wealth for safekeeping.

Some did that right near trade routes

so they had easy access to their money when they were doing business.

So it's possible that a merchant in this area was doing exactly that.

This was a prime spot on the Baltic trade route

where merchants were using rivers and the sea to move goods

like iron and furs from inland farms to European markets.

I mean, the fact that this became the city of Stockholm

tells you this is a great place for trade.

So maybe this guy just buried his treasure for later

and then something went wrong

and he just never made it back to retrieve the stash.

But 13 pounds of silver is a huge sum for a single merchant

to just leave behind without anyone coming back for it.

And by the late 12th century,

merchants typically used iron-bound chests

with padlocked lids to store valuables, not a copper cauldron.

So this doesn't seem like a typical merchant hoard.

Searching for answers,

researchers examine the inscriptions on the coins.

Many are stamped with the word "Kanutus", the Latin name for Knut,

a reference to King Knut Eriksson,

who ruled Sweden from 1173 until his death in 1195 or 1196.

Before King Knut, Sweden hadn't really made coins

for over a century, but around 1150,

the minting system got fired back up in Lodose.

But it was King Knut who really got coin making going again

about 30 years after that, striking these thin, uneven shaped coins

in a German style with his name on it.

King Knut's reign was turbulent; he was consolidating power,

strengthening alliances with the church,

and facing incursions from various Baltic enemies.

Raids and attacks were commonplace

as rivals fought for control of territory and resources.

If you backed the wrong side or if your patron fell from power,

you could lose everything.

So could this treasure have belonged to one of Knut's officials?

Someone rewarded with silver for their loyalty?

When the king died and his rival son took the throne,

maybe the supporter had to hide the hoard and flee.

As they study the collection

and how everything is placed, researchers notice something unusual.

When officials or supporters receive payment,

it usually came as weighted silver,

pieces cut from jewellery or household items

measured out by weight.

But the rings, pendants, and beads here are intact,

they look like personal possessions.

Also, everything is packed in the cauldron in a jumbled, rushed way.

It seems like someone grabbed their valuables and buried them

in a hurry.

At this time, when raids or conflicts broke out,

families often buried their assets to protect them.

It was a way to safeguard their wealth

with the hope of returning once the danger passed.

Finds like these are sometimes called a "Notfund,"

a German term for "emergency hoard" or a "trouble hoard."

All the evidence points to this being

a family's entire portable wealth

placed in the ground in a moment of crisis.

The owner probably planned to return for it,

but never had the chance.

They may have died, been forced to leave the area,

or simply couldn't come back for some other reason.

Who buried the silver and what happened to them

may never be known.

But the hoard survived over 800 years in the cold ground

and continues to reveal secrets

from one of Sweden's most formative periods.

Subtitles by Sky Access Services