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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

I clenched and unclenched my fists, tensing and turning my neck and shoulders, working the aches and stiffness from my muscles. I listened intently as the bar was removed and quietly set aside. Stealthily, the door was pulled open. I breathed through my mouth, willing whoever was outside not to detect Drosten and me beside the opening door. If we could overpower our captors, the Pict and I might yet still be able to redeem ourselves.

The door was half open now. Its movement halted. Nobody stepped into the darkness and I readied myself for the shout to come from outside. The moment Chlotar or whoever was outside called for us to rouse ourselves, I would rush through the open door. I was faster than Drosten, but I knew the massively muscled Pict would follow me into the breach, with no thought of the spears or the danger to himself. We were sword-brothers and we would stand together. Our only chance was to attack them without warning and hope that Runolf, Hereward and the others could leap up and join us before we were slain. I drew in a long calming breath, readying myself for action.

But no shout came from without. Instead, a shadowy form slipped through the partially open door. I had no time to think. Action was key to success now, so I leapt forward wrapping my forearm around the intruder’s throat, pulling them close in a tight grip that would soon choke the life from them. They were shorter than me, but possessed a wiry strength and they struggled against my hold, scratching fingernails down my arm, reaching back to try to gouge at my eyes. I ignored the pain, turning my head. My opponent gurgled, their words muffled and choked. Though they were strong, they were no match for me. My pent-up rage roared in my ears and I spun around, forcing my adversary back towards the door, using their body as a shield for the spear thrusts I was certain would come slicing out of the darkness.

“Awaken,” I called out, loud enough for the others to hear, but not shouting. I did not want to rouse more of Ljósberari’s people. I could scarcely believe what was happening. Surely God must have been smiling on me, for I was shoving my way towards the door and no steel had found me yet. Drosten was beside me and in that instant I began to believe that we might actually make it out of the stinking hut, out into the cool air of the night. Out to freedom. Or at least, to be freed from this prison. We would still need to face Ljósberari, Chlotar and his murderous band of thralls and children, but that would have to wait. For now, all that mattered was getting out of our cell.