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Chapter One

Early March 876—North Yorkshire

His land His and no one else’s, won by his sword ar

Brand Bjornson knelt down in the dark soil and gathered a handful of sun-war the richness of the earth between his fingers After , this, this was all he dreamt about—land to put down roots and to create his own piece of paradise on earth

Finally Instead of a landless mercenary whose only future was a quick death, he was now a jaarl with a large estate to prove it Halfdan, once the leader of the felag to conquer Northuiven him hile land, one of the finest estates in all of Northumbria

Brand gave a wry so proiance and alliance shifted on the point of a sword or the jangle of a

He stood and surveyed the gently rolling hills where the new spring grass had started to push through the dry hassocks of winter A river meandered And it was all his as far as the eye could see He’d fought hard enough for it, from Byzantium to the wilds of Northuood overlord He’d encountered enough poor ones to last a lifetime

‘Do we burn the empty barns and teach them a lesson?’ Hrearek, his co towards where the various ras here which they are trying to hide from us with their lack of cattle, sheep and horses Always the same, these Northumbrians Same tricks and attempts at deception They think we’re stupid because we don’t worship the saod as they do or have the saold from ten paces And this place has them, despite what they claimed’

‘We’ve come to settle, not to raid My sword tiainst his trousers There wasin the chilly March breeze His face was towards the future, rather than his blood-soaked past Reborn and renewed, he would rerow crops They will learn it is wise to be on the right side of their overlord Once they know lad to have me as their jaarl’

‘And you think they will give in like that?’ Hrearek snapped his fingers ‘This was the heartland of the rebellion They need to be taught a lesson which they will not soon forget’

‘They have no choice The rebels lost My sword dispatched their leader and saved your life’ Brand shrugged War, when it caa It was the way of the world and the Northumbrians knew it It hy they’d rebelled rather than accepting that they had lost all of their pohen the Norseo ‘Halfdan is their king Any rebel will be punished and their land taken’

‘And will you frieda? You have spoken so much about her’

Brand looked up in the clear blue sky Once the thought of winning Sigfrieda’s hand had driven his every ht about her into put down the rebellion and finally winning his land He struggled to reiven in the candlelight, and how regular her features were She would be the perfect de sons

‘That is the plan’ He fingered the scar on his neck, re how he’d been turned away, bloody and beaten fro Then he’d been known as the bastard son of a cast-off mistress who dared speak his mind ‘Once I’m settled, I will send word to her father If fortune favours me, the lovely lady will be here before the autue difficult I need sons to make sure what I have done is not written on the wind’

His sok the statement at face value Hrearek was not a friend, but rather a companion-in-arms and didn’t need to know the full history ‘I’m impressed You never falter or waver in your schemes You are an inspiration, Brand Bjornson I can only hope that fortune will favour me in the same way By Frieda’s bower, I too would like a wohs and bear me sons’

‘My dream kept me alive on the blackest of days Now it is tilo-Saxon hall stood, proud and defiant The occupants were to learn a powerful lesson about who controlled this land