Death of Kings. Bernard Cornwell

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Northumberland Bedanford Bedford, Bedfordshire Blaneford Blandford Forum, Dorset Buccingahamm Buckingham, Bucks Buchestanes Buxton, Derbyshire Ceaster Chester, Cheshire Cent County of Kent Cippanhamm Chippenham, Wiltshire Cirrenceastre Cirencester, Gloucestershire Contwaraburg Canterbury, Kent Cyninges Tun Kingston upon Thames, Greater London Cracgelad Cricklade, Wiltshire Cumbraland Cumberland Cytringan Kettering, Northants Dumnoc Dunwich, Suffolk Dunholm Durham, County Durham Eanulfsbirig St Neot, Cambridgeshire Eleg Ely, Cambridgeshire Eoferwic York, Yorkshire (called Jorvik by the Danes) Exanceaster Exeter, Devon Fagranforda Fairford, Gloucestershire Fearnhamme Farnham, Surrey Fifhidan Fyfield, Wiltshire Fughelness Foulness Island, Essex Gegnesburh Gainsborough, Lincolnshire Gleawecestre Gloucester, Gloucestershire Grantaceaster Cambridge, Cambridgeshire Hothlege, River Hadleigh Ray, Essex Hrofeceastre Rochester, Kent Humbre, River River Humber Huntandon Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire Liccelfeld Lichfield, Staffordshire Lindisfarena Lindisfarne (Holy Island), Northumberland Lundene London Medwæg, River River Medway, Kent Natangrafum Notgrove, Gloucestershire Oxnaforda Oxford, Oxfordshire Ratumacos Rouen, Normandy, France Rochecestre Wroxeter, Shropshire Sarisberie Salisbury, Wiltshire Sæfern River Severn Sceaftesburi Shaftesbury, Dorset Sceobyrig Shoebury, Essex Scrobbesburh Shrewsbury, Shropshire Snotengaham Nottingham, Nottinghamshire Sumorsæte Somerset Temes, River River Thames Thornsæta Dorset Tofeceaster Towcester, Northamptonshire Trente, River River Trent Turcandene Turkdean, Gloucestershire Tweoxnam Christchurch, Dorset Westune Whitchurch, Shropshire Wiltunscir Wiltshire Wimburnan Wimborne, Dorset Wintanceaster Winchester, Hampshire Wygraceaster Worcester, Worcestershire

       PART ONE

       The Sorceress

       One

      ‘Every day is ordinary,’ Father Willibald said, ‘until it isn’t.’ He smiled happily, as though he had just said something he thought I would find significant, then looked disappointed when I said nothing. ‘Every day,’ he started again.

      ‘I heard your drivelling,’ I snarled.

      ‘Until it isn’t,’ he finished weakly. I liked Willibald, even if he was a priest. He had been one of my childhood tutors and now I counted him as a friend. He was gentle, earnest, and if the meek ever do inherit the earth then Willibald will be rich beyond measure.

      And every day is ordinary until something changes, and that cold Sunday morning had seemed as ordinary as any until the fools tried to kill me. It was so cold. There had been rain during the week, but on that morning the puddles froze and a hard frost whitened the grass. Father Willibald had arrived soon after sunrise and discovered me in the meadow. ‘We couldn’t find your estate last night,’ he explained his early appearance, shivering, ‘so we stayed at Saint Rumwold’s monastery,’ he gestured vaguely southwards. ‘It was cold there,’ he added.

      ‘They’re mean bastards, those monks,’ I said. I was supposed to deliver a weekly cartload of firewood to Saint Rumwold’s, but that was a duty I ignored. The monks could cut their own timber. ‘Who was Rumwold?’ I asked Willibald. I knew the answer, but wanted to drag Willibald through the thorns.

      ‘He was a very pious child, lord,’ he said.

      ‘A

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