For Lord and Land Read online

  Also by Matthew Harffy

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  The Serpent Sword

  The Cross and the Curse

  Blood and Blade

  Killer of Kings

  Warrior of Woden

  Storm of Steel

  Fortress of Fury

  For Lord and Land

  Kin of Cain (short story)

  A Time for Swords series

  A Time for Swords

  A Night of Flames

  Novels

  Wolf of Wessex

  FOR LORD AND LAND

  Matthew Harffy

  An Aries book

  www.headofzeus.com

  First published in 2021 by Aries, an imprint of Head of Zeus

  Copyright © Matthew Harffy, 2021

  The moral right of Matthew Harffy to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN (HB): 9781801102223

  ISBN (XTPB): 9781801102230

  ISBN (E): 9781801102254

  Head of Zeus Ltd

  First Floor East

  5–8 Hardwick Street

  London EC1R 4RG

  WWW.HEADOFZEUS.COM

  For Lord and Land

  is for Geoff Jones

  Contents

  Welcome Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  Place Names

  Prologue

  Part One: Shadows from the Past

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Part Two: Rescue and Retribution

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Part Three: The Dark Path

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Historical Note

  Acknowledgements

  About the author

  An Invitation from the Publisher

  Map

  Place Names

  Place names in Dark Ages Britain vary according to time, language, dialect and the scribe who was writing. I have not followed a strict convention when choosing what spelling to use for a given place. In most cases, I have chosen the name I believe to be the closest to that used in the early seventh century, but like the scribes of all those centuries ago, I have taken artistic licence at times, and merely selected the one I liked most.

  Addelam

  Deal, Kent

  Aln

  River Aln

  Alnwic

  Alnwick, Northumberland

  Æscendene

  Ashington, Northumberland

  Afen

  River Avon

  Albion

  Great Britain

  Baetica

  Southern region of the Iberian peninsula, loosely corresponding to modern-day Andalusia

  Bebbanburg

  Bamburgh

  Beodericsworth

  Bury St Edmunds

  Berewic

  Berwick-upon-Tweed

  Bernicia

  Northern kingdom of Northumbria, running approximately from the Tyne to the Firth of Forth

  Bristelmestune

  Brighton

  Caer Luel

  Carlisle

  Cabilonen

  Chalon-sur-Saône

  Cair Chaladain

  Kirkcaldy, Fife

  Cantware

  Kent

  Cantwareburh

  Canterbury

  Carrec Dún

  Carrock Fell, Cumbria

  Catrice

  Catterick

  Cnobheresburg

  Caister Castle, Norfolk

  Cocueda

  River Coquet

  Cocuedesae

  Coquet Island

  Corebricg

  Corbridge

  Dál Riata

  Gaelic overkingdom, roughly encompassing modern-day Argyll and Bute and Lochaber in Scotland and also County Antrim in Northern Ireland

  Dacor

  Dacre, Cumbria

  Deira

  Southern kingdom of Northumbria, running approximately from the Humber to the Tyne

  Din Eidyn

  Edinburgh

  Dommoc

  Dunwich, Suffolk

  Dor

  Dore, Yorkshire

  Dorcic

  Dorchester on Thames

  Dun

  River Don

  Dun Mallocht

  Dunmallet Hill, Cumbria

  Dyvene

  River Devon

  Ediscum

  Escomb, County Durham

  Elmet

  Native Briton kingdom, approximately equal to the West Riding of Yorkshire

  Engelmynster

  Fictional location in Deira

  Eoferwic

  York

  Frankia

  France

  Gefrin

  Yeavering

  Gernemwa

  Great Yarmouth, Norfolk

  Gillisland

  Gilsland, Northumberland

  Gipeswic

  Ipswich

  Gwynedd

  Gwynedd, North Wales

  Hastingas

  Hastings

  Hefenfelth

  Heavenfield

  Hereteu

  Hartlepool

  Hibernia

  Ireland

  Hii

  Iona

  Hithe

  Hythe, Kent

  Hrunaham

  Runham, Great Yarmouth

  Ingetlingum

  Gilling, Yorkshire

  Inhrypum

  Ripon, North Yorkshire

  Irthin

  River Irthing, Cumbria

  Liger

  Loire River

  Liminge

  Lyminge, Kent

  Lindesege

  Lindsey

  Loidis

  Leeds

  Maerse

  Mersey

  Magilros

  Melrose, Scottish Borders

  Mercia

  Kingdom centred on the valley of the River Trent and its tributaries, in the modern-day English Midlands


  Morðpæð

  Morpeth, Northumberland

  Muile

  Mull

  Neustria

  Frankish kingdom in the north of present-day France, encompassing the land approximately between the Loire and the Silva Carbonaria

  Northumbria

  Modern-day Yorkshire, Northumberland and south-east Scotland

  Norwic

  Norwich, Norfolk

  Lindisfarena

  Lindisfarne

  Lundenwic

  Settlement to the west of modern-day London

  Pocel’s Hall

  Pocklington

  Rēade

  River Rede

  Rendlæsham

  Rendlesham, Suffolk

  Rheged

  Kingdom approximately encompassing modern-day Cumbria in England, and Dumfries and Galloway in Scotland. Annexed by Bernicia in the early seventh century

  Rodomo

  Rouen, France

  Sandwic

  Sandwich, Kent

  Scheth

  River Sheaf (border of Mercia and Deira)

  Sea of Giudan

  Firth of Forth

  Secoana

  River Seine

  Seoles

  Selsey, Sussex

  Snodengaham

  Nottingham

  Soluente

  Solent

  Stanfordham

  Stamfordham, Northumberland

  Sualuae

  River Swale

  Tatecastre

  Tadcaster

  Tenet Waraden

  Tenterden, Kent

  Temes

  River Thames

  Tine

  River Tyne

  Til

  River Till, Northumberland

  Tuidi

  River Tweed

  Ubbanford

  Norham, Northumberland

  Wenspic

  River Wansbeck

  Wihtwara

  Wight (Isle of)

  Wilfaresdun

  Wilfar’s Hill (Diddersley Hill, North Yorkshire)

  Wiur

  River Wear

  Wudeburna

  West Woodburn, Northumberland

  ANNO DOMINI NOSTRI IESU CHRISTI

  IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST

  651

  Prologue

  The riders didn’t look dangerous to Leofman at first. He was alerted to their presence by his son, Eadwig. The boy had the keen eyes of the young and saw the four men on horseback the moment they crested the rise and started their descent into the cleft in the earth that led to the cave. Leofman noticed Eadwig staring up the slope, a look of concentration wrinkling his forehead, and he turned to follow his son’s gaze. He lowered the heavy pick he had been swinging, and took the opportunity to wipe sweat from his brow. The hollow in the earth where they worked was in shadow now, as the sun lowered in the west, but the sky behind the riders was bright. The day had been long and hot, and Leofman had hoped to accomplish more, but he had promised they would be back to the house before dusk.

  “Pick up the tools and place them in the cart,” Leofman said.

  “But, Father,” whined Eadwig, “you said you would show me inside the cave today.”

  “I know I did, son,” Leofman replied, his tone distracted as he shielded his eyes from the bright sky to watch the men urge their horses carefully along the rocky path down the side of the ravine. “But we’ll have to do that tomorrow. I promised your mother I would have you home before sundown. Now, help Swiga clear up.” He glanced at Swiga, who nodded, and without pause the tall man carried his shovel over to the cart and flung it onto the back with a clatter.

  It had taken a lot longer to remove the rocks than he had anticipated and he had begun to wonder at the sense in this course of action. Still, Scyldsung had shown him how the samples of rock had yielded the dull, soft metal, and the priest had told him that if there was a lot of the stuff, it would prove much more valuable than grazing sheep and planting barley on the poor soil of the windswept slopes of Leofman’s land.

  If he truly could sell the lead for silver as Scyldsung had said, perhaps he could buy some thralls to work the mine. It was obvious that the scale of the task would be too much for Eadwig, Swiga and him alone. He took in the size of the cave’s entrance, thinking of the crumbling, overgrown ruins of the stone building at the top of the rise, abandoned no doubt at the same time as the mine. Not for the first time, Leofman wondered how many men had worked the place before it had been forgotten.

  Eadwig and Swiga were busy clearing up now, retrieving the shovels and picks, and putting them in the cart. Leofman had berated himself for being overcautious in taking the implements home with them each night. After all, the rusted and broken remnants of past miners’ tools had still been strewn about the cave when he had stumbled upon the place. Surely no thief would find the tools in their absence. But seeing the men riding down towards them served to reinforce his decision. Tools could be stolen, and he was not a wealthy man.

  A shaft of summer sunlight briefly glinted from the lead horseman’s gear. Leofman squinted to make out more details and his stomach tightened as he saw the men carried swords. Standing there in his sweat-drenched kirtle, Leofman felt suddenly exposed.

  “Who are they?” asked Eadwig, his high-pitched child’s voice piercing the echoing sounds of the horses’ hooves in the gully.

  “I don’t know,” said Leofman in a quiet voice, but as they drew closer, he recognised the fat man who rode at the front of the small column. “Swiga,” Leofman said, keeping his tone even, “get Eadwig onto the cart. We’re leaving.”

  Swiga didn’t wait to be told twice. He scooped tiny Eadwig up and placed him beside the tools in the bed of the cart. The shaggy brown mare that was tied to the vehicle whinnied in nervous greeting to the approaching horses.

  Forcing himself to appear relaxed, Leofman stepped forward to meet the riders, interposing himself between them and the cart. They were in the shadows at the foot of the gully now and he could make them out clearly. They had the hard faces of warriors. Swords and seaxes hung from their belts. None of them smiled as he raised his hand in welcome.

  “Bumoth,” Leofman said, “what brings you to my lands?”

  The lead rider pulled gently at his reins and his sturdy horse halted. The poor beast looked tired, thought Leofman. Bumoth was a massive man, with a round gut and great slabs of muscle over his broad chest. His beard was close-cropped with a clearly defined line beneath it where his neck was shaved. Leofman wondered at the man’s vanity to tend to his beard with such precision, as it only served to accentuate his bloated, toad-like jowls.

  Bumoth made no effort to reply or to dismount. Leofman’s disquiet intensified.

  “What do you want?” he asked, an edge of frustration entering his tone.

  “It is not what I want,” replied Bumoth, offering a thin, almost sad smile. “It is what Sidrac wants you should be concerned with.”

  “These are not Sidrac’s lands.”

  Bumoth rubbed his fat, bristled chin.

  “No, they’re not,” he said, looking about the shadowed ravine, taking in the dark cave-mouth and the pile of broken rock before it. His eyes finally rested on the cart. Eadwig, wide-eyed and inquisitive, was peering over the edge at the riders. “Not yet.”

  Before Leofman could respond, the fat man snapped his fingers.

  “Aescferth. Egbalth. Don’t hurt the boy.”

  Two of the riders slid from their steeds. It seemed to Leofman that the temperature in the shadowed cleft in the earth had suddenly dropped. He shivered.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Leofman was angry at himself to hear a tinge of fear in his voice.

  He wished he had kept hold of the pick he had been using to split the rocks, but Swiga had retrieved it and put it in the cart. Leofman’s hand dropped to his seax. The knife would have to suffice. He tugged the blade from its scabbard where it hung at the rear of his belt and moved to stand before th
e two men. It had been years since he had last fought anyone. He might be old, but he had stood in shieldwalls and was no coward. And yet, even as he moved, raising himself up to his full, considerable height and drawing his seax, he was uncertain of what would happen next. This was no shieldwall. He had no shield, no iron-knit shirt, and only a short-bladed seax with which to defend himself. Long gone were the days when he had stood strong surrounded by shield-brothers. Still, he was not alone. Swiga was certainly no fighter. Leofman knew the lad was loyal. He might be mute, but he was as strong as an ox.

  Bumoth did not reply to Leofman’s question. He looked on with a strange expression some way between a smile and a frown. The look of a man who is asked to answer a riddle to which he already knows the answer.

  The two riders who had dismounted moved quickly, passing Leofman before he could intercept them. A third man in a blue warrior coat jumped down nimbly from his mount, and with a fluid motion pulled his sword from its decorated scabbard. The blade gleamed dully in the afternoon shadows. Leofman saw gold and garnets gleaming on its pommel. This was a fine sword and the man swung it with effortless speed that spoke of great skill as he stepped towards Leofman. This was no ruffian, who might be deterred by Leofman’s bulk and the seax in his hand. The man’s eyes were cold and unflinching; the eyes of a killer.