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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

“Before they called me Ljósberari, my name was Scomric.” He nodded thoughtfully at his memories. “I was at the Abbey of Saint Bertin, in the land of the Franks. A quiet place of peace and great learning. I was blessed to have had my time there and I wonder sometimes what would have become of me, if I had remained there.” He sighed. “But such was not to be. The abbot sent me, along with Chlotar, who served the monastery, to Quentovic to oversee the purchase of some lead for the roof of the new chapel. Who could have known that the Norse would be so bold as to attack the port? They came with the dawn.” His voice trembled as he relived that dark day. “There was so much blood. More horror than any man should have to witness.” I thought of the horrors inflicted on Scomric’s victims, but said nothing. “And yet I lived,” Scomric went on and a hard edge entered his tone. “As did faithful Chlotar. And I knew then, as I know now, that we had been spared for a reason. Even in the blackest of times, when we were beaten and almost starving, I would pray with Chlotar for a sign.” He closed his eyes, as if picturing the two of them kneeling in prayer. “Eventually the sign came to us.”

Fifty-Two

“What sign?” asked Leofstan.

“A book,” said Scomric, his voice tinged with awe and sorrow. Leofstan glanced at me. “I had been for so long without anything to read, imagine my joy at finding such an exquisite thing in these pagan lands that had been hitherto devoid of all learning and education. Our masters had no comprehension of the thing’s value. They tore the gems and gold from the cover, and discarded the pages. Can you believe such a thing? As if the worth of a book can be discerned by its cover!” He shook his head in disbelief. “They did not care when I carried the book back to where we thralls slept. If any of them saw me reading, they laughed, not understanding that God had sent me the tome. For what other reason could such a precious thing have fallen into my hands out of all the people in this accursed land?”

“Tell me of the book,” said Leofstan, but the eagerness in his tone betrayed him and Scomric scowled.

“You would like to know about the book, wouldn’t you?” he snapped, instantly furious. He surged to his feet, sending his chair toppling over with a crash. “So, that is what you have come for! You wish to steal the Treasure from me.” Scomric screamed these last words and again I saw in him the power of his passion and madness that led people to follow him.

Leofstan raised his hands in a placatory gesture.