‘Well, that too. Do you understand that I will build my kingdom on Christ and on literacy? For Christianity is the root of the morality that underpins the law, and if a law is written down all men may understand it and see that it is fair.’

Cynewulf was struck by the vision of this man who dreamed of law codes even as he prepared for the battle of his life.

Arngrim said, ‘But it’s not for me, my lord. I’m no monk.’

‘No. But tomorrow is for you, Arngrim. I dream of a civilised time when we no longer name our swords. But tomorrow I need warriors.

‘I have pondered what was said to me that night, when the damaged girl-child recited her prophetic calendar for me. The prophecy made me aware of our place in history - for these are days that men will talk of for ever, Arngrim, whatever becomes of us. What are we, we English? Four centuries ago we were as these Northmen are now. We gazed with incomprehension on the Romans’ mighty ruins. Now these Northmen erupt in our lives, illiterate pagan savages, who are as we were. The priests say that pagans remember hell. Well, the Northmen are our own deep lost memory of hell. And to fight them we will have to reach back for our own true selves, our hell-souls.‘ He squeezed Arngrim’s shoulder tighter. ‘And so I reach to you. I need you in the shield wall, Arngrim, at its very centre.’

‘You will have me there, lord.’

‘But, Arngrim, remember this - you must think. For it is by thinking that we will prevail.’ Alfred held his gaze a moment longer, then released him, and moved on to the next man.

The pagan ceremony went on. The goat was dragged forward, butchered in its turn, and its blood stained a dozen swords before its carcass was thrown after the pig’s into the pit.

Arngrim, his brow streaked with blood, grinned at Cynewulf. ‘A bit more exciting than your chanting monks, isn’t it, priest?’

‘Goading me is unworthy at such a time, cousin.’

‘Well, perhaps. We all have our own ways of preparing to die.’ Amgrim held up his sword and kissed its bloody blade. ‘I have sworn to Woden that if he spares my life tomorrow I will give him Ironsides

I will break his blade and hurl him into the river myself. And tonight I must make a greater sacrifice.’ He gestured at the pit. ‘A goose, a dog, a sheep and a goat, a pig, a boar, a bull, a stallion - and a man. That’s what is required of us tonight, to feed the pit. And so it falls on me to supply the horse.’

He turned. Ibn Zuhr, standing nearby, stroked the neck of Strong-and-Fleet. The horse pawed the ground and shook his head, disturbed by the stink of blood and fire.