Warriors of the Storm. Bernard Cornwell

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Warriors of the Storm - Bernard Cornwell The Last Kingdom Series

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       Also by Bernard Cornwell

      

       About the Publisher

       PLACE NAMES

      The spelling of place names in Anglo-Saxon England was an uncertain business, with no consistency and no agreement even about the name itself. Thus London was variously rendered as Lundonia, Lundenberg, Lundenne, Lundene, Lundenwic, Lundenceaster and Lundres. Doubtless some readers will prefer other versions of the names listed below, but I have usually employed whichever spelling is cited in either the Oxford Dictionary of English Place-Names or the Cambridge Dictionary of English Place-Names for the years nearest or contained within Alfred’s reign, AD 871–899, but even that solution is not foolproof. Hayling Island, in 956, was written as both Heilincigae and Hæglingaiggæ. Nor have I been consistent myself; I have preferred the modern form Northumbria to Norðhymbralond to avoid the suggestion that the boundaries of the ancient kingdom coincide with those of the modern county. So this list, like the spellings themselves, is capricious.

Æsc’s Hill Ashdown, Berkshire
Alencestre Alcester, Warwickshire
Beamfleot Benfleet, Essex
Bebbanburg Bamburgh Castle, Northumberland
Brunanburh Bromborough, Cheshire
Cair Ligualid Carlisle, Cumbria
Ceaster Chester, Cheshire
Cent Kent
Contwaraburg Canterbury, Kent
Cumbraland Cumbria
Dunholm Durham, County Durham
Dyflin Dublin, Eire
Eads Byrig Eddisbury Hill, Cheshire
Eoferwic York, Yorkshire
Gleawecestre Gloucester, Gloucestershire
Hedene River Eden, Cumbria
Horn Hofn, Iceland
Hrothwulf’s farm Rocester, Staffordshire
Jorvik York, Yorkshire
Ledecestre Leicester, Leicestershire
Liccelfeld Lichfield, Staffordshire
Lindcolne Lincoln, Lincolnshire
Loch Cuan Strangford Lough, Northern Ireland
Lundene London
Mærse River Mersey
Mann Isle of Man
Sæfern River Severn
Strath Clota Strathclyde, Scotland
Use River Ouse
Wiltunscir Wiltshire
Wintanceaster Winchester, Hampshire
Wirhealum The Wirral, Cheshire

       PART ONE

       Flames on the River

       ONE

      There was fire in the night. Fire that seared the sky and paled the stars. Fire that churned thick smoke across the land between the rivers.

      Finan woke me. ‘Trouble,’ was all he said.

      Eadith stirred and I pushed her away from me. ‘Stay there,’ I told her and rolled out from under the fleeces. I fumbled for a bearskin cloak and pulled it around my shoulders before following Finan into the street. There was no moon, just the flames reflecting from the great pall of smoke that drifted inland on the night wind. ‘We need more men on the walls,’ I said.

      ‘Done it,’ Finan said.

      So all that was left for me to do was curse. I cursed.

      ‘It’s Brunanburh,’ Finan said bleakly and I cursed again.

      Folk were gathering in Ceaster’s main street. Eadith had come from the house, wrapped in a great cloak and with her red hair shining in the light of the lanterns that burned at the church door. ‘What is it?’ she asked sleepily.

      ‘Brunanburh,’ Finan said grimly. Eadith made the sign of the cross. I had a glimpse of her naked body as her hand slipped from beneath the cloak to touch her forehead, then she clutched the heavy woollen cloth tight to her belly again.

      ‘Loki,’ I spoke the name aloud. He is the god of fire, whatever the Christians might tell you. And Loki is the most slippery of all the gods, a trickster who deceives, charms, betrays and hurts us. Fire is his two-edged weapon that can warm us, cook for us, scorch us, or kill us. I touched Thor’s hammer that hung from my neck. ‘Æthelstan’s there,’ I said.

      ‘If he lives,’ Finan said.

      There was nothing to be done in the darkness. The journey to Brunanburh took at least two hours on horseback and would take longer in this dark night, when we would be stumbling through woods and possibly riding into an ambush set by the men who had fired the distant burh. All I could do was watch from Ceaster’s walls in case an attack burst from the dawn.

      I did not fear such an attack. Ceaster had been built by the Romans and it was as tough a fortress as any in Britain. The Northmen would need to cross a flooded ditch and put ladders against the high stone walls, and Northmen

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