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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

“The islands of the north, the soft southern kingdoms of Britain, Hibernia, even Frankia.” If the Norse truly considered attacking all of those kingdoms, the scope and casual nature of their ambition was staggering. At the mention of Cormac’s homeland, Hibernia, I recalled my dead friend’s tale of the murder of his family at the hands of Norse raiders, and his outrage at our trust in Runolf. Seeing the glint in Runolf’s eye as he spoke of raiding, it was easy to picture him, axe in hand, leaping over the side of a sleek ship and rushing up the beach at the head of a pack of sea wolves. Did the men in the hall see him that way, I wondered? Could they imagine the man I had witnessed standing against his own kin and countrymen to protect two defenceless children at Lindisfarnae? How was one so accustomed to slaughter and rapine, capable of risking his life for the people of another land? I understand now, that like all men, Runolf was both light and darkness, good and evil. I am pleased that he considered me his friend and chose to show me the lighter side of his nature. Few survived an encounter with the darkness within Runolf.

The murmuring of the king’s advisors had risen to a hubbub.

“Surely you are not considering what these men propose,” shouted out one jowly man with grey whiskers and a bulbous nose. “Your forces are already spread too thinly across the marches of Pictland in the north, and Mercia in the south.”

“It seems to me,” replied the king, “that it would not prove too costly to at least see this plan put into motion. Just enough to pay some fisher folk to help with the shipbuilding, and of course, timber for the ship. They are not asking for warriors.”

“We would need iron for rivets too,” rumbled Runolf. “And a smith.”

“You see, lord?” said the old man. “The cost is already mounting.”

Æthelred waved a hand, as if these were trivial considerations.

“Yes, yes. But these are mere details.”

“We will need good rope too—” I silenced Runolf by gripping his arm. He looked down at me and I offered him a small shake of my head. Now was not the moment to list all that we would require.

“No vision this time?” enquired Daegmund. His voice, dripping with sarcasm, but accustomed to preaching before the faithful in the church of Saint Peter’s, carried easily over the buzz of conversation.

The king turned to the priest.

“What are you prattling about, Daegmund?”