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his father is killed, his mother raped, and along with his tutor and childhood friend, Eadwulf is captured and taken to the Danish lands to be sold as a slave.
well-respected member of Bjorn’s closely knit crew. Yet through it all, the smouldering desire for revenge on those who destroyed his family refuses to abate.
like Eadwulf, he learns the harshest lesson of all … that a trusted kinsman can so easily turn traitor.
Danes, Eadwulf has returned to his Mercian homeland and settles to a life of calm domesticity, marred only by his incessant desire for revenge. His frequent absences from his new home, connected to his past life, threaten to destroy the relationships he has fostered and alienate the family he has come to love.
Before too long those skills will be put to the test…
control over the people. The Danes take kingdom after kingdom and Alfred and his brother Aethelred wait with baited breath for them to set their sights on Wessex. By 869, their worst fear is realised.
Excerpt from Shadow of the Raven
The snorting and stomping of the horses was the first indication that anything was amiss, then the panicked shouts; the reek of smoke assailing their nostrils only moments later. They hurtled to the stable door, aware that it could take barely minutes for wood and thatch to burn to a crisp, and reeled in horror. Searing waves of heat smacked into them. The hall was ablaze, its heavy thatch ready to collapse; angry red flames lashed at the wood-planked walls. People collided with each other, precious water slopping from their pails as they raced to quell the towering flames. Yapping, terrified dogs added to the pandemonium.
Sigehelm crossed himself, uttering a prayer for anyone trapped inside the blazing hall. ‘Eadwulf; Aethelnoth; stay close to me,’ he ordered, grabbing Aethelnoth’s arm as the boy turned to lead the horses to safety. ‘The stables are far enough away to be safe for now. If need be, I’ll loose the horses when you’re both safe with Morwenna. But may the Lord help these other buildings. The kitchens will probably soon be ablaze. We must hurry. I must help to fetch water.’
It was then that the Danes struck.
Yowling men stampeded through the palisade’s main gate, their entrance unchallenged as people fought to control the blaze. Yet they had needed neither to burn down nor scale the palisade wall. The gates must have already been open – despite Thrydwulf’s insistence that they be kept locked and guarded.
Frenzied screams escalated. Sigehelm yanked Eadwulf and Aethelnoth behind the kitchens and, stooping low, they headed for the women’s bower. Suddenly Eadwulf froze. Burgred stood outside the bower’s door – and something about that was so very wrong.
‘Eadwulf, in God’s name, child, we cannot stand and stare. We must reach your mother and try to flee from the manor.’
‘Burgred’s a traitor, Sigehelm! He was meeting them in the woods. And he must have started the fire: the hall was ablaze before the Danes came through the gate. He must have opened that for them too. . .’
from joining in with various challenges on WordPress. As a consequence, she has also recently published a book of 85 flash fiction pieces of 100 to 1,000 words, entitled A Dash of Flash.
writing, Mille enjoys long walks in the countryside and visiting historic sites and re-enactments. She is also an avid traveller, swimmer and baker of cakes! Originally from the seaside town of Southport in Lancashire, she still misses the smell of the sea.