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Back A Night of Flames
Chapters (76)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise forMATTHEW HARFFY
  3. BY MATTHEW HARFFY
  4. Title Page
  5. Copyright
  6. Dedication
  7. Maps
  8. Epigraph
  9. Contents
  10. Place Names
  11. One
  12. Two
  13. Three
  14. Four
  15. Five
  16. Six
  17. Seven
  18. Eight
  19. Nine
  20. Ten
  21. Eleven
  22. Twelve
  23. Thirteen
  24. Fourteen
  25. Fifteen
  26. Sixteen
  27. Seventeen
  28. Eighteen
  29. Nineteen
  30. Twenty
  31. Twenty-One
  32. Twenty-Two
  33. Twenty-Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Thirty-Six
  47. Thirty-Seven
  48. Thirty-Eight
  49. Thirty-Nine
  50. Forty
  51. Forty-One
  52. Forty-Two
  53. Forty-Three
  54. Forty-Four
  55. Forty-Five
  56. Forty-Six
  57. Forty-Seven
  58. Forty-Eight
  59. Forty-Nine
  60. Fifty
  61. Fifty-One
  62. Fifty-Two
  63. Fifty-Three
  64. Fifty-Four
  65. Fifty-Five
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Fifty-Seven
  68. Fifty-Eight
  69. Fifty-Nine
  70. Sixty
  71. Sixty-One
  72. Sixty-Two
  73. Author’s Note
  74. Acknowledgements
  75. About the Author
  76. An Invitation from the Publisher

“We must set guards,” said Mancas, his tone sharp with worry. “This is Pictish land.” The lord was glad to be off Brymsteda for the night. He had spent less time than the rest of us aboard in the days prior to setting out, and it seemed to me, that even though he had not vomited, he had suffered from the constant motion of the waves. He had been lucky that we’d had a good wind behind us, I thought. The ship did not roll as much when making way with a following wind.

“They will not attack us at night,” said Runolf. Mancas frowned. “But yes,” Runolf continued, “set a watch.”

The Drag crew, led by Dunn, found some driftwood, and Arcenbryht asked Mancas if they could light a fire. The Lord of Uuiremutha turned to Runolf for his opinion. The Norseman nodded.

“We will be gone with the dawn, long before any Picts come to bid us welcome.”

“No singing,” said Mancas. “The men of these lands are not our friends. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

I did not share Runolf’s optimism that we would be left alone. I was sure I could sense people gazing on me from the night. When it was my turn on watch, I stared out into the darkness, convinced that every rustling movement of the wind was a Pictish warrior stalking over the dunes, ready to cut my throat.

When I sensed movement close behind me, I spun around, dropping my hand to the hilt of my sword.

“Hunlaf, it is I,” hissed a voice that I recognised as Gersine’s.

The sound of his approach over the sand had been hidden by the whisper of the waves rolling up the beach and the breeze sighing through the grass.

“Be careful not to sneak up on me in future,” I snarled, angry at my own nervousness.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, then made my way to where the men rested beside the fire above the high-tide line. A couple of the men were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, conversing in whispers too quiet for me to make out their words. I tossed a log onto the embers. Sparks and new flames lit up their faces. One was Leofstan and I was surprised to see that the other was the bearded thrall, Ahmad. They both looked sombre and I imagined Leofstan, always keen to spread the word of God, must be preaching of Christ to the infidel. I toyed with the idea of joining them, but I was tired and the thought of trying to explain theology to an ignorant slave dissuaded me.

Wrapping myself in my cloak, I lay down near the embers. I listened to Ahmad and Leofstan’s murmuring voices as they mingled with the sea-sigh and wind-whisper. My head was still full of images of tattooed warriors, and it took me a long time to find sleep.