Raven: Blood Eye (Raven 1) by Kristian Giles

Author:Kristian, Giles [Kristian, Giles]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781409080695
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2009-04-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

‘HOW MANY WARRIORS went with him, Raven?’ Sigurd asked. His eyes shone as though he believed the Norns of fate were weaving the most wonderful pattern.

‘No less than seventy,’ I replied, ‘and thirty of those were his own men. Real fighters, my lord. The rest were levy men. He left maybe twenty household men behind that I saw. There are others too, but they shouldn’t give you much trouble.’

‘We should send the monk in to steal the book,’ Olaf said, staring at Father Egfrith in wonder, for we all knew it was the monk’s letter rather than my and Mauger’s presence which had convinced King Coenwulf to ride north. ‘He knows what the thing looks like.’ He shrugged. ‘Damned if I’ve ever seen a book before. Heard about them, though.’

‘No,’ Mauger said, shaking his head, ‘too risky.’ He wore his warrior rings again and they obscured the fierce tattoos on his arms, clinking whenever he moved. ‘If they catch wind that it’s the book we’re after, they’ll bury the damned thing so deep we might as well stand around picking our arses till judgement day.’ He thumbed at Father Egfrith. ‘He might be a sly old stoat, but if he went alone he’d have to fool churchmen like the one who whispers in Coenwulf’s ear, and some of them are sharp as a Frank’s blade. They’re cunning bastards, take it from me. You’ve never had to raise war silver from priests. Blood from a stone,’ he said, spitting.

‘Mauger is right,’ Sigurd said. ‘They must not know we want the book. But they’re headless now, like a dandelion in a strong wind. Their king has gone.’ He pursed his lips. ‘When we attack, these Mercians will be trying to save their own sallow skins. We breach the walls, we go in hard, and we take the book.’ He looked at Svein the Red, who wore a silver hammer at his throat. ‘Thór would approve of such a plan, I think,’ he said with a smile. Svein grinned. ‘Are we all agreed?’ the jarl asked, lingering a moment on Glum who nodded, his ruined arm bound in a leather sheath. Every man gave a grunt or a nod and the Wolfpack readied itself to fight.

‘Did it escape your mind to tell me how stout the wall is, Raven?’ Sigurd asked when I pointed to the distant settlement. It was dusk and the drizzle had become rain which dripped from the nasals of our helmets as we stood taking in King Coenwulf’s lair.

‘It’s big, lord,’ I admitted, ‘and well made. But the ditch is shallow.’

‘It won’t burn easily in this rain, Sigurd,’ Olaf said. ‘Looks like we’ll have to wait for an invitation.’

‘Don’t worry, old man,’ Bjarni put in, ‘the womenfolk will pull us over the walls and into their beds now their men have gone.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘But it’ll take three or four of them to help me up. My balls are heavy as a bag of silver.’

‘English women would

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