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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

When, by midday on the second day we saw there was no sign of a breeze, most of our party offered to relieve the rowers. We all remembered the back-breaking work of rowing into the sound at Orkneyjar, and now that we had eaten and drunk with these men on Hidle, we felt a duty to help.

The only ones who stubbornly refused to lend a hand to the looms were Runolf and Eadmaer. It had taken some time for Runolf to choose the eleven men to accompany us on this mission, and Mancas and he had argued about it long into the night, their hissed voices loud in the hush of Hjorleif’s hall.

Lord Mancas had been furious with Runolf for agreeing to the king’s demands without any negotiation. The Northumbrian had kept his anger in check while the king was present, but as soon as Hjorleif had retired for the night, waddling behind the hangings at the rear of the hall, dragging the terrified thrall with him, Mancas had rounded on the huge Norseman.

“How dare you speak for the king of Northumbria?” he said, keeping his voice low, for fear that his words would be overheard and relayed to Hjorleif. Even when releasing his rage, he kept a leash on his emotions. I had never seen him fight and I wondered if he was a good swordsman. A lack of emotion was a skill Gwawrddur praised.

“I spoke for nobody but myself,” replied Runolf, taking a sip of the fine ale Hjorleif’s steward provided. “I will force no man to come with me. It will be dangerous, no doubt, but there are many more than a dozen brave men amongst our crew.”

Runolf was right, of course, and several of those left behind were disappointed. Some, I am sure, were pleased to remain in the comfort of the king’s hall, though as I heard Hjorleif’s grunting and the thrall girl’s whimpering cries in the night, I wanted nothing more than to be far from the place. I could do nothing for the poor girls the king selected to satiate his hungers, but if Aelfwyn was still alive, I could still help her. The sounds of the king’s rutting made me wonder what horrors Aelfwyn had suffered at the hands of her masters. Was she even now being abused by Ljósberari and his host of murderous thralls?

One of those who did not seem to mind being left behind was Scurfa. Runolf had selected him as a safe pair of hands that he could depend on no matter the vessel we would be called upon to sail or row. But Eadmaer had pushed to the front of the men who had gathered in the light of the rising sun down by the wharf where both Brymsteda and Grágás were moored.