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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

“You do not seem overly concerned by the arrival of that ship,” I said. I peered out to sea. The ship was noticeably closer already, its red sail billowing and full. It was still a long way off, but to my young eyes it looked to be a longship of a similar size to Brymsteda. As I watched I noted the glint of the sun on burnished metal from the throng of men aboard.

“I know when I have lost an argument,” said Runolf. “There is no need for me to fight with Lord Mancas any more.”

“But what of that ship?” I was confused by his sudden change of mood. “Is it not a war vessel? It looks to me to carry many men.”

“That,” he said, taking a bite of the sizzling black pudding and blowing with his mouth wide open as it scalded his tongue, “is Eldgrim, King Hjorleif’s warmaster.” Runolf took another nibble of the pudding, and, finding it now to be a temperature that he could manage, he popped the whole piece in his mouth. “It seems,” he said, speaking around the mouthful of blood and oats, “that we will be seeing the king before we do anything else, just as you wished, Mancas.”

Lord Mancas frowned, perhaps thinking that Runolf was making fun of him. He shaded his eyes and stared out to the water.

“But the ship is yet far away,” he said. “How can you see the master from here?”

“I cannot.” Runolf chuckled, and cut himself another chunk of the pudding.

“Then how can you be certain of who it bears?”

“That ship is Grágás. And it is owned by Eldgrim. And I should know: I built it.”

Thirty-Four

Runolf had been right about the ship that rode the waves into Skorri’s steading. Eldgrim was tall, but slender, his fair beard long and turning to silver. He was a sombre man, with eyes the grey of a winter’s sky. He greeted Runolf warmly enough, but without a smile.

“We have been watching the Boknafjorden,” he said, when Runolf asked how he had come to the island so soon after our arrival.

Runolf scowled.

“What do you watch for?”

Eldgrim brushed aside the question.

“I am sure King Hjorleif would welcome your presence at his hall in Jaðarr. You have been away a long time.” He frowned as he took in the crew, our ship, and the burnt buildings. His gaze lingered for a time on Drosten’s hard face, with his swirling tattoos and dark, oiled hair. “And you bring strangers to our shores. The king would meet any emissary from foreign lands.”