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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

Stooping its head, it pecked casually with its shiny black beak at the limb it was sat upon. I realised with a hideous sinking in my stomach that the bird was not resting upon any tree, but rather the charred remains of a man or woman that had been somehow held upright against a stake. The body was misshapen and twisted, unlike any form of human flesh and bone. The ground around the shrunken and wizened corpse was blackened and covered in ash. As my eyes became accustomed to what they saw, I made out the curve of the skull, the head a cadaverous, skinless husk now. I wondered whether the Frank, Chlotar, had put out their eyes before the fire set their clothes alight, before their hair shrivelled away and the fat of their body erupted in flames, filling the air with the stench of roasting meat.

My mouth filled with bile.

Ingvar spat into the river and touched the iron of the hammer amulet he wore around his neck.

“Did you know them?” I asked, unable to pull my gaze away from the grisly sight, in spite of the sickness that welled up inside me at imagining how they had suffered.

“I knew them,” Ingvar said, spitting again and looking away.

“We should tend to them,” said Runolf. His blue eyes seemed to burn with the light from the lowering sun.

“Perhaps,” replied Ingvar, his tone sad. “But not today. There are those who say that Ljósberari’s victims cannot be touched. That they are cursed and must be left as a warning.”

Runolf sniffed, but I noticed he spat into the river and made the sign to ward off evil with his left hand.

“And you believe them?” he asked.

Ingvar shrugged.

“Perhaps,” he said, his hand creeping up to touch the hammer pendant again. “If we were to stop to tend to the corpses of all the men and women Ljósberari has burnt, we would not reach him this side of Jól. They have been food for the ravens for weeks, a few more days won’t hurt them. If you still want to tend to the dead after you have slain Ljósberari, then I will help you.” Ulf whimpered, looking at where the raven still worried at the burnt corpse. Ingvar stroked the dog’s head. “Of course, for that we’ll have to still be alive.”

I did not interpret Ingvar’s words, but from the grim expressions on the faces of the others, there was no need.

“There are so many dead?” I asked.