BooksBarbecue
Back A Night of Flames Save as PDF
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

Runolf, his bulk, height and fiery red hair making him stand out from everyone else in the building, was to my right, Hereward, sombre and subdued in the presence of the king, stood silently on my left. We had thought it best not to bring Drosten and Gwawrddur to the audience. Æthelred’s suspicious nature was infamous and we had reasoned that it would not help our cause to have a Pict and a Welshman amongst our number. Looking at the king now, seated on his grand oaken chair, clutching the elaborately carved arms, and leaning forward like a heron about to strike an unsuspecting fish, I was sure we had made the right decision. Only months had gone by since I had last seen Æthelred, but he seemed older, his hair more streaked with silver, his face gaunter, his eyes more full of suspicion.

After making us wait for an audience for the best part of a day, we had told him of our visit to Bebbanburg and Uhtric’s support of my plan. Outside the hall, a cold autumn rain fell on Eoforwic. The hissing roar of the downpour had been a constant sound for days. We were dry now, having been allowed to warm ourselves at a fire in one of the small buildings that dotted the royal enclosure. Thralls had brought us warmed ale and some good, rich pottage. We were glad of the food and warmth, but what we most looked forward to was a dry bed and a good night’s sleep.

As we had ridden southward, the rain had followed us. Clouds had formed far out over the grey North Sea, the air beneath them streaked and smudged with the driving rain. As the rain reached us and quickly drenched our cloaks, I’d look over at Hereward. The water slicked his face and I remembered his tears. As our horses carried us south, leaving the fortress of Bebbanburg behind to sit silent sentinel over the Whale Road, we all knew we would never see Uhtric again. Hereward was at first sullen and angry, but as we travelled further from Bebbanburg, so his spirits seemed to lift. We were wet and cold, but it was as if the darkness and sickness of the hall had infected his soul, and as he rode through the daylight and the downpour, his sour mood was washed away.

I thought then that Uhtric had done Hereward a great service. The warrior who had led us to victory at Werceworthe was prone to brooding. To sit and watch his lord die would have been a terrible torture for one such as he. To be active, in command of men, with adventure and the unknown ahead of them, this was a gift for Hereward. Neither gold nor silver would have been of as much value to Hereward as this final gift from his lord.