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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

“It is,” said Runolf, unable to keep the grin from his face. “It might be the finest ship I have ever built. Which is a feat indeed considering the men I had to work with.” He laughed, taking the sting from his words. He slapped Wihtgar on the back. Wihtgar, a stocky man with wise eyes, smiled. He was a quiet one, but he had picked up Runolf’s instructions effortlessly, and I knew that the Norseman valued him as a fine craftsman and someone worthy of taking on the new skills he had imparted.

Since the attack, some five weeks previously, both men had driven the builders harder than ever. On hearing about Estrid from Torfi, Runolf’s desire to set sail burnt with a hot flame, and Wihtgar was keen to help him. Wihtgar had already begun the process of finding suitable lumber for a new ship, and I believed he relished the idea of building his own vessel without the help of his Norse mentor. I recognised the gleam in his eye. I used to feel the same sensation when presented with a fresh page of vellum. Wihtgar longed to test the limits of his knowledge and create something truly his.

Runolf and Wihtgar had come down to the moored ship to perform their final inspections before the feast. They had checked everything before, but they were both restless. The day was growing old, the shadows lengthening as the sun lowered into the west, but we were close to midsummer, so it would not be dark for some time yet. Everyone had been invited to a great feast at the small hall, and the smell of roasting pig was already thick in the warm air. Mancas had offered to host the celebration at his great hall, which was much larger and would easily cope with so many visitors, but we were all anxious not to be too far from the ship we had spent months building.

Despite Runolf having salvaged as much as possible from the sunken ship, its timber ribs still jutted from the river at low tide, a stark reminder of the attack and what can occur to a vessel when bad luck strikes.

We had seen no further sign of Norse invaders, but sometimes, far out to sea, we saw sails, and I wondered whether those might be ships bearing heathen raiders to some unsuspecting minster along the coast. We had seen no sails for days, but we were not prepared to leave the ship unprotected. And yet, after so many weeks of gruelling work, the prospect of the feast was alluring, and none of us wished to miss it in order to stand guard beside the river.