The Dragonheart makes a journey to the top of the highest mountain in his land. He discovers a wolf cub which is close to death. He brings it back to health and it becomes part of his life. He does not know what effect the cub will have save that it has been sent from the spirits or the gods and he cannot ignore it.
When the clan raids the monastery at St Michael’s Mount they set in motion larger events. The whole Saxon world becomes changed when the Dragonheart fights King Egbert on the fields of Pennsans.
I managed to finish this book really quickly. I think it was the story line. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. I normally do enjoy writing my books but this one seemed to be an absolute joy. I hope you find it so.
This one sees the end of the blood feud with Egbert. It also links with the Ragnvald Hrolfsson book in my Norman series. Keeping the two books in sync was the hardest part of the writing. When I began I thought it would be the last in the series. I was wrong. There is life int he old wolf yet! Perhaps he is like my picture of Dorian Grey. So long as he is alive then…
Excerpt
For the first time in a long time, I was not the first one over the wall. Boosted by Olaf and Rolf I grabbed the top of the wooden wall and pulled myself over. I reached down to help Haaken up and, after I had swung my shield around to my side I looked for foes. When I looked along the wall I saw Raibeart and his men, closely followed by his hearth weru, were racing down the fighting platform slaying Saxons. I did not need to hurry. I climbed down the ladder and found myself, alone, by the side of a large hall. The rest had headed for the gatehouse where my grandson was still trying to overcome the defenders. I shifted my shield around to the front. I was aware that the two warriors who had helped me up the wall, Rolf and Olaf, were now clambering up the wooden walls. I had support. Holding Ragnar’s Spirit before me I made my way through the narrow alleys between the houses.
A Saxon, wearing a byrnie and wielding a sword, stepped out of a house. He looked surprised to see me. He had quick hands and he swung his sword, swiftly, at my middle. If I had not had my shield ready then I might have been struck. As it was I blocked the blow with my shield and brought Ragnar’s Spirit diagonally across his bare neck. My sword had a good edge and it bit through to his chest. He slumped to the ground. I stepped into the house. There were three women. I was about to leave when I saw that the oldest one clutched a small chest. I walked up to her and said, in Saxon, “Give me that or the three of you will die!” The use of Saxon and my red eyes burning in the firelight, worked and she pushed the chest over. I nodded and took it in my left hand, holding it behind my shield. I re-entered the passageway.
Two of Raibeart’s men appeared, “Jarl! You are alone?”
I grinned, “Arne, I am still an Ulfheonar!”
We headed towards the sound of battle. It was bizarre for we were almost alone. Pennsans was bigger than I had expected. Perhaps they had a bigger garrison? We burst out into an open area. I saw Vikings and I saw Saxons. It was a confused battle. That suited us. Saxons fought best when they were in rigid lines. We fought best when it was warrior against warrior. I brought my sword down onto the back of a Saxon’s head. I split his helmet and his skull. It was one of Ragnar’s men he was fighting and he raised his sword in salute. Raibeart’s men were aware that they were the only protection for the Dragonheart and they flanked me as I stabbed forward at the spine of the Saxon before me. I felt it grate off the backbone. He arched and then slumped at my feet. This was not glorious but it was necessary.
I realised that the confusion needed to be ended. I raised my sword and yelled, “Shield wall!”
My voice had commanded often enough and most of the warriors knew me. Suddenly shields sprouted around me and, on the other side of the Saxons I heard the crack of shields as they came together. More men appeared from the alley behind me and where there had been three there were now ten and three shields were pressed into my back.
“Punch and slash!”
I hit the Saxon before me with my shield and then ripped my sword upwards. The Saxon was dying, even as he fell backwards. As more of Raibeart’s men joined me we began to rhythmically slice and hack through the Saxons. It was not pretty but we had practised this since we were children. I saw dead and dying Vikings. They were the ones without mail. They were the younger ones. The burghers of Pennsans could go nowhere for Ragnar’s men, having taken their gate had closed their only escape. The Saxons fought until the end. They did not attempt to surrender. Having made a shield wall against them their defence did not last long. As the last one fell I raised my sword and shouted, “Ragnar! Ragnar!” Men looked at me before raising their own swords and acclaiming my grandson too. It was important for the clan that he was acknowledged as the victor. This would be the beginning of the building of his name. A powerful name was almost as good as a good sword in a battle. If an enemy feared your name then he was already half beaten. The enemy feared Dragonheart and now they needed to fear Ragnar.
We had no time to lose for we had a richer island to take. Ragnar showed me that he had thought all of this through. “Gruffyd send your men to the priory and fetch any riches you find there.”
“And priests?”
“If there are any but I fear they may have fled.”
“Aye, we will do so! Men of the ‘Crow’, follow me!”
