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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

Runolf must have seen the futility of the situation. He held his ground, glowering at Chlotar, his eyes burning with a hatred that made the Frank chuckle. Without warning, perhaps sparked by Chlotar’s disturbing, throaty laughter, Ulf broke free from his master and rushed towards us, yapping and growling. The dog flew at us fast, but to my amazement, Chlotar was even faster. With a kick to the back of my legs behind my knees, he sent me sprawling forward into the mud. I could do nothing to halt my fall. I twisted my face to the side, but still my right cheek hit the earth hard enough to rattle my teeth. Before I had finished falling, without hesitation, Chlotar drew a sword from its scabbard and in a single fluid motion hacked down at the snapping animal that rushed towards him. Ulf yelped. The dog whined piteously, shuddered and then was still. Chlotar’s blade had severed its spine and almost cleaved it in two. My face was only a hand’s breadth from the poor creature’s snout as it died. It stared at me, as the light left its eyes, and I thought I saw disappointment in its animal gaze.

Ingvar screamed and ran forward. Beorn lunged out, reaching for him in an effort to hold him back, but the boatman was mad with grief and anger, and he escaped the warrior’s grasp and rushed at Chlotar. I was certain the Frank would slice him down with as much ease as he had killed the man’s dog, but Ingvar never reached the swordsman. He staggered to a halt a few paces from him. He rose up straight, straining on his toes. Making claws of his hands, he reached over his shoulders, as if he had an itch he could not scratch. Stumbling forward a step, he fell to his knees and from where I lay in the muck, looking over Ulf’s still form, I saw the bright white feathers of two arrows jutting from between Ingvar’s shoulder blades. As Ingvar collapsed forward, Chlotar pounced on me, hauling me to my feet, and placing his bloodied sword to my neck.

“Drop your weapons now, or you all die,” he shouted, all calm gone from his voice. “And the boy will be first.”

I saw the pale faces of my sword-brothers turn as they glanced about them, taking in the dark figures that now surrounded us. I counted at least twenty adversaries, and perhaps half of them had white-fletched arrows nocked to the strings of their bows.

With a sinking in my stomach, I watched as, one by one, the men with whom I had travelled from Northumbria dropped their weapons on the ground and allowed themselves to be bound.

Forty-Eight