Also by Matthew Harffy
The Bernicia Chronicles
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.