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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

We had barely gone twenty paces when the young leader screamed a warning to the mass of people gathered before the hall. He had remained at the entrance to the burning building, hanging back and sending the bravest of the warriors inside. Such is the way with most men who lead others, I have found. The leader who will risk his life with those who follow him is rare indeed. But his lack of bravery did not appear to dissuade the majority of the throng from listening to him, and, craven or hero, his eyesight was keen. He bellowed orders and Ljósberari’s folk turned and, to my dismay, many of them ran after us.

“Hurry,” I yelled, increasing my pace. I sprinted between the shadows of the first buildings, before glancing over my shoulder at our pursuers.

Several of the younger armed men were running parallel to our position, clearly intending to intercept us before we could reach the river. I wondered if the others would still be there. Had they set off when they saw the first flames at the hall? Or had they encountered more of Ljósberari’s crazed disciples before they were able to reach the boats?

I prayed they were still there, waiting for us. We would know soon enough. Our only hope was to beat our pursuers to the water’s edge and hope that our friends were still there. I ran on, my bare feet slipping on the dewy grass. A sharp pebble dug into the sole of my left foot, but I did not falter, pushing myself to greater speed. My shoulder burnt where Scomric’s blade had slashed me, but I ignored the pain. That too was something for later. If we survived past the dawn.

Even as I thought this, my heart sank. I was fast, and with our head start, I believed I would comfortably reach the wharf before Ljósberari’s howling followers, but a glance told me that Runolf would never make it. He was tall, with a long stride, but he was hugely muscled and though he was fast in a fight, he was no runner. And he had taken many wounds from Chlotar that were sapping his strength, further slowing him down. He had already fallen some way behind me and when he saw me looking back he waved his axe frantically, urging me on.

“Run, Hunlaf!” he said. “Run!”

But I was already slowing my pace, returning to his side. Tugging at his kirtle, I tried to pull him along, but it was no good. He could go no faster than a trundling lope, and I could see the young warriors bounding and leaping down the incline at the other side of the buildings we were passing.

“If you stay with me,” Runolf panted, “we will both be killed.”