{"id":132320,"date":"2020-10-21T12:05:25","date_gmt":"2020-10-21T01:05:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/?p=132320"},"modified":"2020-10-26T11:46:01","modified_gmt":"2020-10-26T00:46:01","slug":"read-an-extract-from-war-lord-by-bernard-cornwell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/2020\/10\/21\/read-an-extract-from-war-lord-by-bernard-cornwell\/","title":{"rendered":"Read an extract from War Lord by Bernard Cornwell!"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"War<\/a><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Enjoy a look at one of the opening scenes from Bernard Cornwell\u2019s new novel, War Lord<\/a><\/strong>! – the magnificent finale to the Last Kingdom series.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

He is the Lord of Bebbanburg. He is a King\u2019s warrior who had helped the King achieve the throne. He is a man of proud independence, now content to be at home in his own lands.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But fate decrees otherwise …<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n
\"Bernard<\/a>

Bernard Cornwell<\/p><\/div>\n

There was hardly a breath of wind, the sea was lazy, its small waves collapsing exhausted on Bebbanburg\u2019s long beach. The ship approaching from the south, its prow crested with a cross, left a widening ripple that was touched with glittering gold by the early morning sun. She was being rowed, her oars rising and falling in a slow, weary rhythm.<\/p>\n\n\n

\u2018Poor bastards must have been rowing all night,\u2019 Berg said. He commanded the morning\u2019s guards posted on Bebbanburg\u2019s ramparts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Forty oars,\u2019 I said, more to make conversation than to tell Berg what he could plainly see for himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018And coming here.\u2019 \u2018From where, though?\u2019 Berg shrugged. \u2018What\u2019s happening today?\u2019 he asked. It was my turn to shrug. What would happen was what always happened. Cauldrons would be lit to boil clothes clean, salt would evaporate in the pans north of the fortress, men would practice with shields, swords and spears, horses exercised, fish would be smoked, water drawn from the deep wells, and ale brewed in the fortress kitchens. \u2018I plan to do nothing,\u2019 I said, \u2018but you can take two men and remind Olaf Einerson that he owes me rent. A lot of rent.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018His wife\u2019s ill, lord.\u2019 \u2018He said that last winter.\u2019 \u2018And he lost half his flock to Scotsmen.\u2019 \u2018Or he sold them,\u2019 I said sourly. \u2018No one else complained of Scottish raiders this spring.\u2019 Olaf Einerson had inherited his tenancy from his father who had never failed to deliver fleeces or silver as rent. Olaf, the son, was a big and capable man whose ambitions, it seemed to me, went beyond raising hardy sheep on the high hills. \u2018On second thoughts,\u2019 I said, \u2018take fifteen men. I don\u2019t trust him.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ship was close enough now that I could see three men sitting just forward of the stern platform. One was a priest, or at least he was wearing a long black robe and it was he who stood and waved up at our ramparts. I did not wave back. \u2018Whoever they are,\u2019 I told Berg, \u2018bring them to the hall. They can watch me drink ale. And wait before you smack some sense into Olaf.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Wait, lord?\u2019 \u2018Let\u2019s see what news they\u2019re bringing first,\u2019 I said, nodding at the ship that was now turning towards the narrow entrance of Bebbanburg\u2019s harbour. The ship carried no cargo that I could see, and her oarsmen looked bone weary, suggesting that she brought urgent news.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018\u00c6thelstan,\u2019 I guessed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018\u00c6thelstan?\u2019 Berg asked. \u2018She\u2019s not a Northumbrian ship, is she?\u2019 I asked. No Northumbrian ship carried a cross on the prow. \u2018And who uses priests to carry messages?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018King \u00c6thelstan.\u2019 I watched the ship turn into the entrance channel, then led Berg off the ramparts. \u2018Look after his oarsmen. Send them food and ale, and bring the damn priest to the hall.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I climbed to the hall where two servants were attacking cobwebs with long willow switches tied with bundles of feathers. Benedetta was watching to make sure every last spider was driven from the fortress. \u2018We have visitors,\u2019 I said, \u2018so your war against spiders must wait.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I am not at war,\u2019 she insisted, \u2018I like spiders. But not in my home. Who are the visitors?\u2019 \u2018I\u2019m guessing they\u2019re messengers from \u00c6thelstan.\u2019 \u2018Then we must greet them properly!\u2019 She clapped her hands and ordered benches to be brought. \u2018And bring the throne from the platform,\u2019 she commanded.
\u2018It\u2019s not a throne,\u2019 I said, \u2018just a fancy bench.\u2019 \u2018Ouff!\u2019 she said. It was a noise Benedetta made whenever I exasperated her. It made me smile, which only irritated her more. \u2018It is a throne,\u2019 she insisted, \u2018and you are king of Bebbanburg.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Lord,\u2019 I corrected her. \u2018You are as much a king as that fool Guthfrith,\u2019 she replied, making the sign to ward off evil, \u2018or Owain, or anyone else.\u2019 It was an old argument and I let it drop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018And have the girls bring ale,\u2019 I said, \u2018and some food. Preferably not stale.\u2019 \u2018And you should wear the dark robe. I fetch it.\u2019 Benedetta was from Italy, snatched as a child from her home by slavers, then traded across Christendom until she had reached Wessex. I had freed her and now she was the Lady of Bebbanburg, though not my wife. \u2018My grandmother,\u2019 she had told me more than once, and always making the sign of the cross as she spoke, \u2018told me I should never marry. I would be cursed! I have been cursed enough in life. Now I am happy! Why should I risk a grandmother\u2019s curse? My grandmother was never wrong!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I grumpily allowed her to drape the expensive black robe over my shoulders, refused to wear the bronze-gilt circlet that had belonged to my father, and then, with Benedetta beside me, I waited for the priest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And it was an old friend who came from the sunlight into the dusty shadows of Bebbanburg\u2019s great hall. It was Father Oda, now bishop of Rammesburi, who walked tall and elegant, his long black robe hemmed with dark red cloth. He was escorted by a pair of West Saxon warriors who politely gave my steward their swords before following Oda towards me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Anyone would think,\u2019 the bishop said as he came closer, \u2018that you were a king!\u2019 \u2018He is,\u2019 Benedetta insisted. \u2018And anyone would think,\u2019 I said, \u2018that you were a bishop.\u2019 He smiled. \u2018By the grace of God, Lord Uhtred, I am.\u2019 \u2018By the grace of \u00c6thelstan,\u2019 I said, then stood and greeted him with an embrace. \u2018Do I congratulate you?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018If you like. I think I am the first Dane to be a bishop in Englaland.\u2019 \u2018Is that what you call it now?\u2019 \u2018It\u2019s easier than saying I am the first Danish bishop in Wessex, Mercia and East Anglia.\u2019 He bowed to Benedetta. \u2018It is good to see you again, my lady.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018And to see you, my lord bishop.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Ah! So rumour is wrong! Courtesy does live in Bebbanburg!\u2019 He grinned at me, pleased with his jest and I smiled back. Oda, Bishop of Rammesburi! The only surprising thing about that appointment was that Oda was a Dane, son of pagan immigrants who had invaded East Anglia in the service of Ubba, whom I had killed. Now a Danish son of pagan parents was a bishop in Saxon Englaland. Not that he did not deserve it. Oda was a subtle, clever man who, as far as I knew, was as honest as the day is long.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was a pause because Finan had seen Oda arrive and now came to greet him. Oda had been with us when we defended Lundene\u2019s Crepelgate, a fight that had put \u00c6thelstan on the throne. I might be no Christian and no lover of Christianity, but it is hard to dislike a man who has shared a desperate battle at your side. \u2018Ah, wine!\u2019 Oda greeted a servant, then turned to Benedetta, \u2018no doubt blessed by the Italian sun?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018More likely pissed in by Frankish peasants,\u2019 I said. \u2018His charms don\u2019t grow less, do they, my lady?\u2019 Oda said, sitting. Then he looked at me and touched the heavy gold cross hanging at his breast. \u2018I bring news, Lord Uhtred.\u2019 His tone was suddenly wary.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I supposed as much.\u2019 \u2018Which you won\u2019t like.\u2019 Oda kept his eyes on me. \u2018Which I won\u2019t like,\u2019 I echoed, and waited. \u2018King \u00c6thelstan,\u2019 he said calmly, still looking at me, \u2018is in Northumbria. He entered Eoferwic three days ago.\u2019 He paused, as if expecting me to protest, but I said nothing. \u2018And King Guthfrith,\u2019 Oda went on, \u2018misunderstood our coming and has fled.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Misunderstood,\u2019 I said. \u2018Indeed.\u2019 \u2018And he fled from you and \u00c6thelstan? Just the two of you?\u2019 \u2018Of course not,\u2019 Oda said, still calm. \u2018We were escorted by over two thousand men.\u2019 I am old, I was tired, I had fought enough, I wanted to stay at Bebbanburg, I wanted to hear the long sea break on the beach and the wind sigh around the hall\u2019s gable. I knew I had few years left, but the gods had been kind. My son was a man and would inherit wide lands, I could still ride and hunt, and I had Benedetta. True she had a temper like a weasel on heat, but she was loving and loyal, had a brightness that lit Bebbanburg\u2019s grey skies and I loved her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Two thousand men,\u2019 I said flatly, \u2018yet still he needs me?\u2019 \u2018He requests your help, lord, yes.\u2019 \u2018He can\u2019t manage the invasion on his own?\u2019 I was getting angrier. \u2018It\u2019s not an invasion, lord,\u2019 Oda said calmly, \u2018just a royal visitation. A courtesy between kings.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He could call it what he liked, but it was still an invasion. And I was angry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

–Extracted from War Lord<\/a><\/em> by Bernard Cornwell (HarperCollins Australia), out now.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Copyright \u00a9 Bernard Cornwell 2020<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

This book is part of Booktoberfest<\/a>, the festival of new books!<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Booktoberfest<\/a><\/figure><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

He is the Lord of Bebbanburg. But fate decrees otherwise …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":12,"featured_media":132332,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":""},"categories":[6677],"tags":[875,11903,1910,1974,7161,12016,12015],"acf":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/WarLord-Social.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/132320"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/12"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=132320"}],"version-history":[{"count":15,"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/132320\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":132542,"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/132320\/revisions\/132542"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/132332"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=132320"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=132320"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.booktopia.com.au\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=132320"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}