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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

“And to complete the crew,” Mancas said, “will be myself and my son.” He cast about for Gersine, but did not find him in the crowd. “Who appears to have disappeared.”

“He’s polishing the prow beast,” shouted a voice from the darkness. Several of the men laughed knowingly.

Mancas frowned, peering into the gloom, but evidently he could not see who had spoken. He did not mention anyone else, despite having told us just the previous day that half a dozen of his strongest thralls would man the oars and pull on ropes when needed. I glanced at the men who had been turning the hog on the spit all afternoon. They still stood beside the fires, their skin glistening with sweat and streaked with soot. They were broad shouldered and strong and I imagined they would be amongst the men who sailed with us. The thrall nearest me met my gaze and held it, his face impassive. He was dark-skinned, his beard black. His eyes burnt with a brilliant flame of defiance. I looked away before he did.

Mancas beckoned to Runolf. Reluctantly, the Norse giant stepped forward.

“Do you have any words?” asked Mancas. Runolf looked confused. “For the men who will sail with you tomorrow.”

Runolf pulled himself up to his full height, towering above Mancas and me. Chin lifted and beard jutting, he surveyed the faces of the gathered throng.

“Mancas has done enough talking, I feel,” he said. More than one man cheered. Most laughed. Mancas smiled and held up his hands. “I have little to say,” continued the Norseman, his deep voice rolling over us. “All the men who will set sail on the morrow are brave. The sea is a dangerous bitch, but if you do what I say, we will be well. We could do with more men, but Brymsteda will sail well, even with fewer hands. Listen to me.” He swept everyone with his gaze, his piercing eyes hidden in the shadows beneath his brows. “Obey me as you would your lord, even you, Lord Mancas.” Runolf placed a meaty hand on the lord’s slim shoulder. “When we are at sea, my word is law. Obey me, and together we will tame the bitch. Tomorrow we shall see how Brymsteda follows our commands, but now, drink!”

He held his cup aloft, and the night was filled with the sounds of merriment.

I threaded my way between the groups of people sitting on the grass and standing in chattering huddles. A light breeze picked up from the sea. The embers of the cooking fires were fanned into sputtering life again, the dancing flames lighting the expectant faces around them.