Chapters (76)
- Cover
- Praise forMATTHEW HARFFY
- BY MATTHEW HARFFY
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Maps
- Epigraph
- Contents
- Place Names
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
“Something like that.”
“So only beautiful people can create beauty?”
“No,” I said. “I know that not to be the case.”
“How so?”
“When I was at the minster at Werceworthe I put my pen to more than one page, and I was told by my betters that some of my illuminations were works of art. Beautiful even.” I paused, raising my eyebrows and turning so the firelight caught my face, showing clearly my nose that was twisted from where a Norse warrior had broken it the year before. “And look at me.”
She laughed. Mancas frowned. Stepping forward, he pulled away from Aelfgyth’s grip on his arm.
“Listen, all of you,” he shouted, raising his voice above the general hubbub that had descended on the people after Beorn’s song had finished. “I would speak to you.”
Someone in the darkness groaned and another laughed. Mancas tensed, but, raising a hand, he spoke with a light tone.
“Never fear. I will not keep you long from the ale and meat.”
A cheer from inside the hall. More laughter.
“A year ago,” Mancas said, his voice carrying easily in the still night air, “none of us could have imagined we would be here today. But if I have learnt anything in my life, it is that all you can be certain of is uncertainty itself. We could not have foreseen the dreadful assault on Lindisfarnae. We all heard of that attack, and we felt sorrow. But as is the way with all men, we did not think such a terrible thing could happen to us.”
The audience was silent now, Mancas’ sombre words dampening the mood. People had expected a celebration, not to be reminded of past horrors and the danger we faced in our future.
“But now we have seen some of these raiders with our own eyes. Their blood has mingled with that of our injured and fallen on the beach by the river. We saw the smoke in the sky from the burning of the minster at Gyruum. These are dark times, my friends, and it is at such times that heroes step forth into the light. A small band of brave warriors stood against the Norsemen when they attacked Werceworthe. Hereward’s heroes defeated the Norse, and without their aid a few weeks ago, we would surely have suffered many more losses when the Northerners’ ships came here.”
I glanced about us. All faces, ruddy and shadowy in the light from the fire pits, were turned towards Mancas. From behind the hall, even the sounds of the playing children had ceased. They had been whooping and hollering since the feast began, but they seemed now to realise that the time for games was over.