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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

He might have been right, but given that she had looked after our friend, none of us was anxious to search for her and punish her for warning Ljósberari of our approach. There was plenty of food in her house and while Sygbald prepared us the first proper meal we had eaten since fleeing from Ljósberari’s hellish domain, I went about preparing a poultice of stale bread, honey and wild garlic for Gersine. I applied it to his leg and prayed over the wound and, when we awoke the following morning, his fever had broken and the swelling had gone down. God was indeed smiling upon us, and we left Gudrun’s isle in good spirits. Even Eadmaer seemed to have forgotten his hatred of the pale cunning woman.

Eldgrim was awaiting us at Sand and we were glad to be quickly away from Olvir’s hall. It was a grim and unhappy place, and I could not shake the sense that Olvir had hoped for Ingvar’s death on the journey upriver. The jarl had been surprised to see us, but had seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when we told him how Ingvar had been slain.

“That is sad,” he had said, sounding anything but sorrowful. “And his dog too, you say.” He shook his head in a mockery of sadness and I wanted to launch myself at him across the board and its meagre fare. Ingvar was a good man, and brave, and it angered me to see his jarl profiting from his death. With Ingvar gone, not only had his debts been cleared, but his land returned to Olvir’s possession. Runolf placed his hand on my shoulder and shook his head. He was right. There was nothing we could do, but it pained me to see the jarl happy to hear of his man’s death.

Eldgrim took us back to King Hjorleif Hjorsson’s hall aboard Grágás. We sailed down the fjords and between the islands without incident. The seas were calm and the winds pleasant and favourable. Hjorleif seemed so amazed that we had been successful in our mission and so shocked when Runolf pulled Scomric’s head from the sack, that he choked on a mouthful of venison. His face went as red as Runolf’s beard and the king would surely have died if not for Lord Mancas’ well-timed blows to his back. The slender Northumbrian struck the massive king three times hard between the shoulders and with the third blow, a gobbet of half-chewed meat flew across the hall. Two hounds began to snarl and fight over the morsel, and when Hjorleif had got his breath back, he laughed at the sight.