The Flame Bearer (The Last Kingdom Series, Book 10) by Bernard Cornwell

alert. Of course! It was so simple! I gave up trying to sleep. I did not need to dress or pull on boots because we were all sleeping, or trying to sleep, fully clothed in case the West Saxons did attempt a surprise assault on the steading. I doubted it would come because I reckoned they had other plans, but I had ordered it because it did no harm to keep my men alert. I buckled Serpent-Breath around my waist, and walked into the night, taking the path southwards. Finan must have seen me leave because he ran to catch up. ‘Can’t sleep?’

    ‘They’re going to attack Wednesday morning,’ I said.
    ‘You know that?’
    ‘Not for certain. But I’ll wager Tintreg against that spavined nag you call a horse that I’m right. Brunulf will come to talk with us sometime in mid morning, and that’s when they’ll attack. On Woden’s day,’ I smiled in the night, ‘and that’s a good omen.’
    We had left the steading behind and were walking up a long and very gentle slope of pastureland. I could hear the sound of the river off to my right. The moon was clouded, but just enough light came through the thinner patches to show us the path and to reveal the woodland as a great dark barrier between us and the fort. ‘The fight they want will be there,’ I said, nodding at the trees.
    ‘In the wood?’
    ‘On the far side, I think. I can’t be sure, but I think so.’
    Finan walked in silence for a few paces. ‘But if they want a fight beyond the trees, why tell us to wait on this side?’
    ‘Because they want us to, of course,’ I said mysteriously. ‘A bigger question is how many men they’ll bring.’
    ‘Every man they have!’ Finan said.
    ‘No, they won’t.’
    ‘You sound very sure,’ he said dubiously.
    ‘Have I ever been wrong?’
    ‘Sweet Christ, you want the whole list?’
    I laughed. ‘You met Archbishop Hrothweard. What’s he like?’
    ‘Oh, he’s a nice fellow,’ he spoke warmly.
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Couldn’t have been nicer. He reminded me of Father Pyrlig, except he isn’t fat.’
    That was a recommendation. Pyrlig was a Welsh priest, and a man with whom it was good to drink or stand beside in the shield wall. I would have trusted my life to Pyrlig, indeed he had saved it more than once. ‘What did you talk about?’
    ‘The poor fellow was upset about Constantin. He asked about him.’
    ‘Upset?’

    ‘It’ll be hard to rebuild Lindisfarena without Constantin’s permission.’
    ‘Constantin might give permission,’ I said. ‘He’s a Christian. Of sorts.’
    ‘Aye, that’s what I said.’
    ‘Did he ask about Bebbanburg?’
    ‘He asked if I thought Constantin would capture it.’
    ‘And you said?’
    ‘Not in my lifetime. Unless he starves them out.’
    ‘Which he will,’ I said, ‘by spring.’ We walked in silence for a while. ‘It’s strange,’ I broke the silence, ‘that Brunulf is building a church and Hrothweard is rebuilding a monastery. Coincidence?’
    ‘People build all the time.’
    ‘True,’ I allowed, ‘but it’s still strange.’
    ‘You think they’re really building a church here?’ he asked.
    I shook my head. ‘But they have to have a reason for being here, and that’s as good a reason as any. What they really want is a war.’
    ‘Which you’re going to give them?’
    ‘Am I?’
    ‘If you fight,’ Finan said suspiciously, ‘then yes.’
    ‘I’ll tell you what I plan,’ I said. ‘On Wednesday we rid ourselves of these bastards, then we go south and smack King Edward to stop any similar nonsense, and after that we capture Bebbanburg.’
    ‘That simple?’
    ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘that simple.’
    Finan laughed, then saw my face in the moonlight. ‘Christ,’ he said, ‘you’re going to fight Constantin and your cousin? How in hell do we do that?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘but I’m going back to Bebbanburg this year. And I’m going to capture it.’ I gripped my hammer and saw Finan put a finger on the cross he wore. I had no