Chapters (76)
- Cover
- Praise forMATTHEW HARFFY
- BY MATTHEW HARFFY
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Maps
- Epigraph
- Contents
- Place Names
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
“The gods have smiled on us,” he said. I remained silent, not deeming the time right to remind him of his baptism. In fact, the further from Britain we sailed, the more pagan Runolf seemed to become. “Before sunset,” he went on, “we should be at my brother’s steading. Hunlaf,” he shouted out to me, a grin on his face, his anger apparently forgotten. “Ready yourself to see your cousin again. I think your meeting with Aelfwyn will be warmer than mine with Estrid.” Despite the dark implication in his words, he seemed buoyant of spirit. Soon after, the rain stopped and the clouds parted, so that soaring peaks could be seen to the north of us. Islands dotted the waters of the vast sound, or fjord, we were entering, and as well as the shadows of mountains to the north, lower, craggy tree-thick slopes rose to the south.
Runolf’s excitement to be close to his home was palpable, and infectious. We were nearing our destination and had made a crossing that few men of Britain had carried out.
Lord Mancas seemed less thrilled than the rest of us. He looked in awe at the dark lands around us, perhaps as well as taking in the gravity of what we had achieved, noting the scale and enormity of the land.
“Do not forget, Runolf,” he said. “We are to travel to the hall of the king of this land that we may seek an audience. I am tasked with brokering an agreement of trade with him. This is of the utmost import, and for what Brymsteda was built.”
Runolf looked down at the slender Northumbrian noble for a long while without speaking. Mancas squared his shoulders and met his gaze valiantly. It was not easy to look into those cool eyes. They spoke of the death of countless enemies and, after a time, Mancas cleared his throat and turned away.
“I will not forget my ship’s purpose,” said Runolf. Mancas stiffened slightly, but said nothing. “But remember, Lord Mancas, that while we are at sea, it is I who is in command. And I say we go first to my brother’s steading. Besides,” his expression softened and he grinned, “the king could be at any of his halls. Once we have put in at Sørbø, we can learn of his whereabouts.”
Without waiting for a response from Mancas, Runolf called down Brymsteda’s length to Garwig at the Foreship.
“Take down the stallion. We do not want to frighten the spirits of the land.” I noted how Leofstan made the sign of the cross at Runolf’s openly pagan words.
“What about the people?” asked Os, with a smile. “Can we frighten them?”