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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

Eager to be back at the hall, I hurried on, scanning the darkness for any sign of Drosten. Nothing. The night was dark, impenetrable apart from the dull gleam from cold, distant stars. I picked out the shadowy form of Brymsteda, black against the river’s darkness. Its timbers creaked where it rubbed against the staithe we had built.

I walked on, casting my gaze about for anything that would alert me to Drosten’s position. I did not wish to call out in the darkness, it felt somehow wrong to shout when all else was still and calm. I heard a whisper not far away, and I turned towards the sound. Again came the groaning of Brymsteda’s strakes.

Something was wrong. I felt a sudden chill, that reminded me of when I had plunged into the waters of the Uuir to aid Wistan and Eafa. The sounds of the ship were coming from further upriver, not from where Brymsteda was moored beside the wharf, but in the same direction as the whispered voice I’d heard. I held my breath and strained to listen. Perhaps I had been mistaken. I took a few tentative steps upriver, away from Brymsteda.

Silence.

Shaking my head at my own imagination, I turned back. Perhaps I should just call out for Drosten and the others. They would be pleased of the ale and then I could head back up to the merrymaking.

There it was again. The sound of wood against wood, followed by a hissed curse. There could be no mistaking it now. There was someone on a boat on the river. I could think of no reason for anyone to be out there at night unless there was mischief afoot. My memory filled with visions of Norse warriors sliding out of the dark on silent ships, seeking vengeance for the slaying of their brothers.

Dropping my hand to my belt, I realised with a start that I had left my sword back at the hall. All I had was my seax. But even if I’d had my sword, I would not be able to stand alone against an attack. I could remain silent no longer. The time to act was now.

Setting down the pitcher of ale, I pulled the seax from its scabbard and bellowed into the night.

“Alarm! Alarm! To me!”

Shouts came from further along the river mouth. I heard men running along the river towards my position. I hurried towards the river and where I judged the stealthy sounds to be coming from.

“To me! To me!” I shouted.

Light, bright in the gloom flooded the night behind me, sending my shadow out long on the earth. Without thought, I spun around. The light spilt from the open door of a storage hut. The very hut where so often I had met with Cwenswith. In the doorway, dark against the bright light of the candle within, was Gersine.

“Hunlaf?” Gersine said. “I can explain.”