The Flame Bearer (Saxon Tales Book 10) by Cornwell Bernard

Author:Cornwell, Bernard [Cornwell, Bernard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780062250827
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-11-28T16:00:00+00:00

I had been to Dumnoc before, long ago, and had been trapped in its largest tavern, the Goose, and the only way to escape had been to start a fire that had caused panic in the town and had scattered the enemies who had surrounded the building. The fire had spread, eventually consuming most of the town. All that had been left was a few houses at the town’s edge and the tall, rickety platform from which folk had kept a lookout for enemy ships creeping through the treacherous sandbanks at the river’s mouth. I had expected Renwald to be cautious as we approached those notorious shoals, but he did not hesitate, aiming Rensnægl between the outermost withies that marked the channel. “They’ve taken away the false marks,” he said.

“False marks?” Cerdic asked.

“For years they had withies which were meant to mislead you. Now they mark the real channel. Row, boys!” His men were hauling hard on the oars to bring Rensnægl safe through the outer shallows and to escape the freshening weather. The wind was gusting high to send white-crested waves scudding across the shoals. Clouds darkened the western sky, hiding the sun and promising foul weather. “My father,” Renwald went on, “saw a fifty-oared dragon boat high and dry on that bank,” he jerked his head south to where the white caps fretted across a bulge of hidden sand. “Poor bastards had gone aground at high tide. Spring tide at that. They followed the false marks and were rowing as if the devil himself was up their arse. Bastards spent a fortnight trying to get that thing to float again, but it never did. They either drowned or starved, and the townsfolk just watched them die. Nine or ten of them managed to swim ashore, and the reeve let the womenfolk kill them.” He leaned on the steering-oar and Rensnægl veered up the main channel. “Of course that was the old days, before the Danes took the place.”

“Now it’s Saxon again,” I said.

“What did he say?” Renwald asked.

“Speak up, grandpa!” Swithun bellowed. “You’re muttering!”

“Now it’s Saxon again!” I shouted.

“And pray God it stays that way,” Renwald said.

The oarsmen pulled hard. The tide was ebbing and the sharp southwest wind buffeted Rensnægl ’s bow. The small waves were spiteful and I did not envy men who were farther out to sea in this rising wind. It would be a cold rough night. Renwald must have thought the same because he cocked an eye at the high scudding clouds that streamed from the darker clouds in the west. “Reckon I might lay up for a day or two,” he said, “and let this weather pass. But it’s not a bad place to be stranded.”

The town looked much the same as it had before I burned it. It was still dominated by a church with a tower crowned by a cross. Guthrum had been King of East Anglia back then, and, though he was Danish, he had converted to Christianity. Smoke

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.