Ragnar the Murderer
Publisher: Taylor Street Books
ISBN: 13: 978-1463698379
Number of pages: 210
Word Count: 40,000
A tale of love and treachery.
It is a time of uneasy truce, of two races living side-by-side, inter-marrying even, but forever on the look out for treachery among their neighbors.
They meet, they bathe together and they consort. Life is short, fun is likely to be brief, and opportunity has to be seized wherever it can be found without unleashing long-held rivalries and carnage.
Then the youthful Dane, Ragnar, falls in love with Aelfwyn the Angle who is already promised by duty to one of her own village.
Ragnar and Aelfwyn's passionate love affair is a secret which will never be hidden for long, but theirs is not the
only secret around.
When Ragnar finds himself charged with murder, he and Aelfwyn are forcibly parted. But is Ragnar really a cold-blooded, cynical killer or is there a more sinister plot being played out?
I faffed around at writing for many years until I had my daughter, but becoming a mum seemed to kick start something in me: I realised that I now had a purpose and time was limited, so I must get on with it.
The winter of 2009 was severe and as I and my family live in a small village, we were house bound by unusually deep snow for southern England. So I settled down in my office (i.e. the corner of our bedroom) and began my first book, which was published in 2010.
I haven’t stopped writing since. I go through phases of planning my story, writing furiously, or editing it. It is much easier now my daughter is at school and I get a few hours of work done each day.
My daughter has truly been an inspiration to me: she has had severe health problems in her short life but is always smiling and laughing, planning for the future, full of ideas. Working at home writing and editing has been ideal, I love my life.
Twitter pages: https://twitter.com/LilyByrneWrites
Let's invite Lily to join us for a short interview!
Time for an excerpt!
So yep, that's about it for today! Thanks for visiting! :)
Time for an excerpt!
“Come on!” urged Saehild, hopping from one foot to the other to
keep warm. “The quicker we get there the quicker we’ll come back.”
Aelfwyn, being shorter and thinner than her younger sister,
found it harder to wield the pails. The long, stone wall edged path to
the well led downhill, and she hated carrying the heavy pails back
“I’m looking forward to the wedding feast of Eappa and
Geatfleda next week, aren’t you? It’ll be a change from daily tasks.
When I’m married I’ll have slaves and they’ll do all the work while I
“You’ve got to find a rich husband first.”
Aelfwyn imagined it wouldn’t be difficult. Fair of face and
curvaceous of body, men couldn’t resist Saehild. Their parents
insisted she should not get married until her fifteenth birthday
however, and as that loomed, soon Aelfwyn would lose her
annoying but amusing companion.
Leafless, icy trees eerily overhung the sunken path through the
As they turned the last corner, they saw two figures by the well,
wearing the red woollen cloaks of Jarl Thorvald’s men, stout leather
boots, and trousers with garters. Complaining to each other, their
breath clouded around them as they chipped at the frozen water
with their spears.
The girls hesitated a few yards away.
“Will they attack us?” whispered Saehild dramatically, clutching
at her sister.
Aelfwyn sighed. “Probably not, but we’d better wait until they’ve
The taller Dane abruptly looked up and smiled. His dark red hair
was wavy but tied back in a plat over his shoulders and he wore a
fur cap instead of a helmet, as he wasn’t in battle. With skin rather
darker than most Danes, he looked pleasant, not handsome but
inscrutable, especially as his well groomed beard and moustache
covered most of his lower face.
“Come,” he said. “Do not be frightened.”
The other turned too, and smiled. Now, he really was good
looking. Straight golden hair, his eyes big and blue, his lips an
attractive shape. His moustache and beard were fortunately less full
than the other’s, as this revealed his beauty. The sisters gasped. He
held his hand out in a welcoming motion so they stepped forward as
“We break ice,” said the handsome one, bending over his task
while the other kept watch.
The girls watched, fascinated. Saehild pretended to re arrange
her head-rail, letting her It was flaxen blond, soft fine hair slip out.
She took great care of it, unlike many girls, and owned three combs.
“Saehild!” Aelfwyn glared at her, shocked at her inappropriate
“We’ve all got hair, it’s not something to be hidden,” she
“There!” The handsome Dane pulled up the bucket from the
well, and gestured for them to come forward. He then tipped water
into their pails, smiling at both of them until they blushed.
Aelfwyn thought, however, that he smiled more at her sister. The
same as every other man. Men were so weak and easily understood.
They saw a pretty face and were instantly besotted. It amused her to
see so many of them pursuing her sister, who often didn’t notice.
Saehild was tall and well formed, obviously healthy and a promising
prospect for bearing children.
Being born underweight meant Aelfwyn had always struggled to
grow and throw off illnesses. As a result she had remained short and
thin, despite eating as much as she could.
Grateful that her mother had kept her rather than abandoning
such a weak sister. Everyone always thought she was the younger one, and even
by eighteen, men hadn’t shown an interest. They no doubt thought
of her as unpromising breeding stock.
As she and her sister stepped back, feebly mumbling “Thank
you”, the taller Dane began filling his own pails. He seemed to be
instructing his reluctant companion, who turned back to the girls.
“Bjarni.” He pointed to himself, bowing his head politely and then
pointed to his taller companion. “Ragnar.”
“Saehild,” she gushed in delight. “My sister, Aelfwyn.”
Ragnar did not seem pleased however, and said something sharp
to Bjarni in their own language. Bjarni rolled his eyes and Saehild
“We should go now,” said Aelfwyn, realising their vulnerable
position alone in the wood with two unfamiliar Danes.
“Goodbye. See you again,” said Saehild, before Aelfwyn could
drag her away.
Bjarni looked after them with interest.
“What d’you think, then?” he asked Ragnar as the girls rounded
the corner and disappeared from view. “Would you fuck them?”
“Yes, probably,” his friend said unthinkingly. “I mean, no! We
shouldn’t be associating with the locals. We have our jobs to do, we
should-“baby, even so she wished to be as attractive as her
“By the gods, you’re so boring! You wouldn’t fuck either of them
just because of your job?”
“The Jarl said we must be honourable if we’re training to be
Huskarlr. At your age, you’re supposed to have grown out of fucking
around.” Ragnar’s job meant everything to him, he had no family
and Jarl Thorvald was the only father he had ever known.
“I’m not nineteen yet. I hope by twenty I won’t be like you and
have forgotten how to do it.” Bjarni pretended to doze off against
the wall so Ragnar prodded his leg with his spear.
“Get off! I’ll have the tall, pretty one. Those breasts, you could
get lost in them. I bet she’s a dragon in the sack-“
“Calm down or I’ll throw this ice over you. Come on.” Ragnar set
off with two pails, Bjarni following cheerfully with the others.
“Think they come here every day?”
“I expect so. But we’re only on water duty for the fortnight, so
don’t get too excited. There are loads of local girls for you to harass.”
“Water duty! It should be the women doing such tasks, not us.”
“It’s to teach us humility. You need to learn it.”
Bjarni kicked at him- no easy task while carrying pails of waterbut
Ragnar managed to fight back. Continuing to bicker, they
rounded the corner in the opposite direction to the Anglisc, heading
back to Hallfridby.
* * *
“That was a nice start to the day,” said Saehild on the way back
to their home. “Bjarni is so handsome, do you think father would let
me marry him?”
“I doubt it. Father’s very traditional, as you know. He will want
you to marry a nice Anglisc boy. Someone like Wilmund.”
“Ugh, Wilmund! He never washes his hair, he smells bad.” She
Aelfwyn giggled too. “Or Deorweald. Father would approve of
“Deorweald? He must be about twenty five! Almost old enough
to be my father!”
“Or what about-“
“Oh stop talking about these horrible Anglisc. They’re all ugly and
stinking. Give me a beautiful Dane any day. I want Bjarni to rush into
our village, fight off all my suitors and carry me off to his hall. Or a
hut he’s built just for us, we’d live happily ever after and have
“Yes, wouldn’t they be beautiful? The boys would look like him,
the girls like me.”
“Where would I live?”
“You could have a corner in our hut, you could help me look after
the twenty children, I’d need help.”
“Do you think they’ll be at the well tomorrow?”
“We have to fetch water anyway, so they know where to find us.
What did you think of the other one? Ragnar was it?”
“He’s alright. I’m sure he fancies you anyway.”
Saehild nodded smugly. “I saw him looking at me slyly. I could
marry Bjarni and have Ragnar as my lover.” She giggled.
“You would definitely have twenty children then, with both of
them loving you!” Aelfwyn giggled too. She didn’t intend to get
married. If no man wanted her, she wouldn’t want them either.
* * *
The next day, Saehild hurried her sister off to the well so early
that her mother, Cwenburg, stared in shock. Intrigued by the
meeting yesterday, Aelfwyn was not reluctant however. The Danes
kept to themselves socially, with their own feasting days and
customs, but were approachable sometimes. She had heard tales of
fearsome Vikingr marauders in the past, but none she had met
caused her problems, so why not see what they were really like?
They waited at the well for a time, but the men did not appear,
however slowly Saehild filled the pails.
They were just about to leave, when a flash of red caught
Aelfwyn’s eye. “Look!”
Two cloaked figures were hastening along through the leafless
“Is it them?”
A few seconds of uncertainty led to Ragnar and Bjarni appearing
on the path in a hurry, then slowing their pace to a casual saunter.
“Don’t be too friendly,” Aelfwyn warned her sister.
“Morning,” said Bjarni, smiling. “No ice today?”
“No, the weather’s warmer today. Thank you for yesterday, we
wouldn’t have had any water if it wasn’t for you,” babbled Saehild.
Neither Dane understood her rapid speech.
“Thank you for helping us yesterday,” said Aelfwyn plainly, and
their expressions cleared.
“You are welcome,” said Ragnar, bowing slightly.
* * *
So for the next two weeks, the sisters met the Danes at the well.
Conversation was understandably limited, but they managed.
Aelfwyn often found herself fetching the water while Saehild
dawdled. The Danes politely waited for her to get all the water she
needed, but she could hear they were both talking to Saehild,
competing for her attention. It wasn’t fair. Why should she do all the
work while her idle sister sat around resting? She banged the bucket
and pail around carelessly, making as much noise as possible. She
crashed around so much that one of the pails slipped out of her
hand and down the well.
Shrieking, she clutched at it, but luckily, a Danish hand moved
quicker. Ragnar grabbed at the pail and almost fell down the well
reaching for it. His arms were far longer than hers but even he only
just saved it in time.
Aelfwyn snatched it from him. “Thank you,” she muttered.
“You are welcome.”
She looked up to see him suppressing a smile, but carried on
filling her pails in silence.
“So, you come to our feast in two weeks?” Bjarni said to Saehild.
Ragnar rolled his eyes.
“Sorry about him,” he said. “He likes women better than work.”
Aelfwyn felt a giggle rising in her throat.
“I’m sorry about my sister too. She is the same. Except men, not
women of course.”
“Is she married?”
“No.” Aelfwyn sighed. How often had she been asked this by one
of her sister’s enamoured suitors? “My parents say not before she is
“She better get married soon. Or she will be in trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean- er- she will be in the bed of a man soon if she behaves
like that. Sorry.”
Aelfwyn looked back at Saehild sitting on the surrounding wall
with Bjarni. She seemed to be teaching him Anglisc, amid much
giggling. They sat very close, gazing into each other’s eyes.
Ragnar realised he had never seen such a small woman as
Aelfwyn before- he could see right over her head, even when she
stood up and he sat down. He didn’t realise adults could be so tiny.
He surreptitiously put his hand next to hers and was amazed it
looked about twice the size. His fingers were like sausages compared
to her twigs. No, not twigs, something softer, like-
She turned back and he snatched his hand away quickly.
“I am not my sister’s keeper. I mean, I am not her mother or
“That is true.”
“It’s her business what she does. I am used to men chasing after
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You have men chasing after you, as you are the older sister?”
“None of your business!” So he hadn’t made the usual mistake.
He got on with filling his pails in silence.
“What about you, Dane?”
“No, I do not have men chasing me. I would cut their heads off.”
They exchanged glances, then burst out laughing. Aelfwyn
glanced warily at Saehild. So much for her disapproval of associating
with Danes, she behaved the same as her sister.
“They do not see us, do not worry.”
So he also guessed her thoughts. Obviously a worldly wise man.
“You come to our feast also?”
“Oh! Er- yes. Maybe I will.” She blushed with surprise.
“It is Jolablot, the coming of spring.”
“It isn’t spring yet.”
He shrugged. “It will come. We like to feast, spring or not.”
* * *
Too soon the fortnight ended and the two Danes had to finish
their water duty, which saddened them all.
“Jolablot starts at the next full moon,” said Bjarni on the last day
at the well. “We will meet you at the burnt tree between our
villages.” They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.
“Oh God, I am so excited!” squealed Saehild, almost spilling the
water. “Something to look forward to.”
The wedding feast of Eappa and Geatfleda had been the same as
any other, with the same old people saying and doing the same old
things, so a Danish feast would be a novelty.
“How can we stop our family finding out?”
“We could ask Sigulf to keep watch. When he went out to meet a
girl last week, I told Father he was helping with the lambing, so he
“Very well.” Aelfwyn felt a flutter inside. Their first Danish feast.
What would it be like? Tired of being sensible and careful, it was
time to relax and enjoy herself. The Danes at the well hadn’t been
frightening or violent, so surely the others could not be either.
* * *
After the next day’s tasks had been completed, Aelfwyn’s father,
Aldulf, called her to him.
“Daughter, you are now eighteen and no sign of a husband. I
have taken an offer from Eadbald for your betrothal. As you know,
his wife recently died and he has eight children to care for. He has
long admired you and it is time to make a contract.”
“B-but Father, Eadbald is over thirty.” She visualised the portly
man with his customary vacant expression. A potter and rather
“That is no age! I am over thirty too. Consider yourself fortunate
to have one offer. Your mother and I want to marry you off before
Saehild’s wedding, which will surely be soon as she has so many
Aelfwyn saw the end of her girlhood approaching. A sensible
wife, married to a man old enough to be her father. Tears formed.
“Oh leof, don’t cry. You are fortunate to have a family like yours.
Other parents would have married you off many winters ago, but we
were hoping…” the sentence trailed off.
“Very well father.” She bowed her head.
She told Saehild, unable to keep the disappointing news to
herself. Her sister sympathised for once, forgetting her own
“There is nothing I can do,” Aelfwyn said. “They could have
chosen a worse husband for me. Eadbald isn’t a bad man.”
“Just unbelievably boring. Never mind, perhaps you’ll meet
someone at the feast.”
“As if Father would let me marry a Dane. Don’t be silly. I shall just
enjoy the feast as my last taste of freedom and the end of my
So yep, that's about it for today! Thanks for visiting! :)