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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

“Well, I was telling you about Estrid buying more slaves for the farmstead. She went into Hesby when the snows thawed and bought several strong men. She wasn’t looking to buy any womenfolk, but Kolfinn made her an offer she could not refuse, so she took a pretty little thing off his hands.”

My heart pounded with hope.

“Do you remember her name, this thrall?” I asked.

Torfi stared at me for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

“Do you think I recall the names of all the thralls taken in the raids last year? She was one of your folk. Skorri took her from the holy island to the north of here. I don’t know her name, but no man would forget her face. Now there’s a thrall to warm a man’s bed during the cold winter months.”

I snarled, and took a step forward. Torfi laughed.

“It seems Kolfinn had the same idea as me,” he said, undaunted by my anger. “But his wife was not so happy with such a comely thrall in her husband’s hall. It was she who made him sell her. Last I heard she was one of Estrid’s household.”

There could be no doubt. Surely this thrall he spoke of was Aelfwyn.

“Of course, I haven’t heard anything lately from up the Boknafjorden. Not since the Ljósberari came with his fires, and his talk of demons and darkness.” Torfi shuddered. Much of his face was in shadow, but the firelight picked out the fear in his eyes.

“Ljósberari?” asked Runolf. He sounded as confused as I was by this new name.

Torfi nodded, his expression sombre.

“It is a grave thing,” he said. “They say he was a thrall—”

His words were cut off by a shrieking howl. Everyone turned to see where the sound came from. The men around me stumbled back, pushing and shoving. For a heartbeat, I was confused. My hand dropped to my sword. This must be another attack. Perhaps the Norse had sailed through the night and now, while we were distracted by Torfi speaking in the glare of the fire, they had crept up to us to mete out their revenge. But even as I thought this, so I saw there was only one man. Maybe another Norse survivor, come to rescue his comrade.

Firelight glinted from a sharp spear-point that the screaming man held aloft. The flames lit up his face as he rushed past me and I knew instantly that this was no rescue for Torfi. This was Death himself, come in the guise of a grieving father.