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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

The cries of alarm were resounding in the darkness, as more voices responded to my shouts. Had I been mistaken? Had the sounds I’d heard come from Gersine and Cwenswith’s lovemaking? I felt sick at the thought, then shoved it away. No. I knew what I had heard.

“We are under attack,” I hissed to Gersine.

I turned back to peer into the darkness, my eyes tricking me with the after-images of my friend standing with his back to the light. I blinked. Was there movement there, out on the water? Stumbling forward, I made my way closer to the river. There could be no doubt, there was something out there. My stomach twisted at the thought that the Norse might have come upon us when most of the men were drunk at the hall.

I sensed Gersine’s approach, but I did not turn.

“I have no weapon,” he said.

As I am writing this tale many years later, I could have said that I had made a quip about Gersine using a different type of sword that night. That is how tales should be told, I know, with the hero laughing in the face of danger, with a witty retort always on his lips. But I am no hero and such is not the way of things when you believe death is coming for you out of the darkness. I made no joke that night, instead I said, “I only have my seax.”

There were more shouts now, as the guards closed in on where we stood. Far away, I heard yelling. Then a horn sounded, long and plaintive and I knew that, drunk or not, the men of Uuiremutha would come to our aid. All we had to do was stand firm until they arrived.

Drosten came sprinting out of the dark, followed a heartbeat later by Pendrad.

“What is it?” asked Drosten, panting.

“Out there,” I pointed. “There is a ship approaching.”

“A ship you say?” He stared into the black night and pulled his sword from its scabbard.

“I am sure of it. I heard them speaking, and what sounded like oars in the tholes.”

We all peered into the darkness. The faint light from the open door of the storage hut reflected on the river and a vessel slid into view. I held my breath, at once pleased that I had been right, and also horrified that we would need to face a shipload of Norsemen.

But then a voice came from the water, and everything changed.

“Hunlaf,” the voice said. “Is that you?”

I closed my eyes and let out my pent-up breath. I knew that voice and, when I opened my eyes again, I could make sense of what was coming out of the gloom. It was not a dragon-prowed ship laden with armoured and armed Norsemen, it was a small rowing boat with what appeared to be two men aboard.