BooksBarbecue
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

I dreamt of flames that licked at the bare feet of naked corpses impaled on great stakes. In my nightmare, I tried to run away, but something held me back. When I turned to see what was restraining me, I saw Aelfwyn, her face streaked with blood. She grinned at me and her teeth were stained red.

I awoke to a grey dawn. My dream had left me uneasy and out of sorts, but it appeared Runolf had been right. There had been no sign of anyone all through the night. And yet I was not the only one who had slept badly. The men were short-tempered, snapping at one another like bickering children. We quickly ate some of the bread we had brought from Uuiremutha, washed down with a cup of ale. Nobody complained when Runolf gave the order to wade into the water to push Brymsteda out into the rising tide.

We continued up the coast, glad to be away from the beach and its nightmares. The wind swung into the west, and Runolf called out an order for us to adjust the sheets and braces. We were used to the tasks now, and in moments, we had shifted the sail’s alignment to Scurfa’s satisfaction. Runolf nodded, pleased with our rapid response.

All that morning Brymsteda slid northward on a favourable wind.

When the storm came, there was barely any time to ready ourselves.

“I do not like the look of those clouds,” Runolf said, peering into the north-west.

The horizon was shrouded in black thunderheads where moments before the sun had lanced through breaks in the thick, but non-threatening clouds. Such was the speed in the change of the weather that I was reminded of the squall that sank the two Norse ships at Uuiremutha. We had told ourselves that tempest had been sent by the Almighty to protect us. On seeing the dark clouds growing, and the swell rising around us, I made the sign of the cross. Could it be that God had forsaken us?

“Lower the sail and take in three reefs,” shouted Runolf.

The wind was already picking up and in the distance the wave-tops were white. We needed the sail to allow us to run from the storm, but Runolf could see that if he did not reduce the sail’s size, the mast, and therefore the ship, would not survive the power of the coming storm.