is capricious.
| Æsc’s Hill | Ashdown, Berkshire |
| Afen | River Avon, Wiltshire |
| Beamfleot | Benfleet, Essex |
| Bearddan Igge | Bardney, Lincolnshire |
| Bebbanburg | Bamburgh Castle, Northumberland |
| Bedehal | Beadnell, Northumberland |
| Beorgford | Burford, Oxfordshire |
| Botulfstan | Boston, Lincolnshire |
| Buchestanes | Buxton, Derbyshire |
| Ceaster | Chester, Cheshire |
| Ceodre | Cheddar, Somerset |
| Cesterfelda | Chesterfield, Derbyshire |
| Cirrenceastre | Cirencester, Gloucestershire |
| Coddeswold Hills | The Cotswolds, Gloucestershire |
| Cornwalum | Cornwall |
| Cumbraland | Cumbria |
| Dunholm | Durham, County Durham |
| Dyflin | Dublin, Eire |
| Eoferwic | York, Yorkshire |
| Ethandun | Edington, Wiltshire |
| Exanceaster | Exeter, Devon |
| Fagranforda | Fairford, Gloucestershire |
| Farnea Islands | Farne Islands, Northumberland |
| Flaneburg | Flamborough, Yorkshire |
| Foirthe | River Forth, Scotland |
| The Gewæsc | The Wash |
| Gleawecestre | Gloucester, Gloucestershire |
| Grimesbi | Grimsby, Lincolnshire |
| Haithabu | Hedeby, Denmark |
| Humbre | River Humber |
| Liccelfeld | Lichfield, Staffordshire |
| Lindcolne | Lincoln, Lincolnshire |
| Lindisfarena | Lindisfarne (Holy Island), Northumberland |
| Lundene | London |
| Mærse | River Mersey |
| Pencric | Penkridge, Staffordshire |
| Sæfern | River Severn |
| Sceapig | Isle of Sheppey, Kent |
| Snotengaham | Nottingham, Nottinghamshire |
| Tameworþig | Tamworth, Staffordshire |
| Temes | River Thames |
| Teotanheale | Tettenhall, West Midlands |
| Tofeceaster | Towcester, Northamptonshire |
| Uisc | River Exe |
| Wiltunscir | Wiltshire |
| Wintanceaster | Winchester, Hampshire |
| Wodnesfeld | Wednesbury, West Midlands |
A dark sky.
The gods make the sky; it reflects their moods and they were dark that day. It was high summer and a bitter rain was spitting from the east. It felt like winter.
I was mounted on Lightning, my best horse. He was a stallion, black as night, but with a slash of grey pelt running down his hindquarters. He was named for a great hound I had once sacrificed to Thor. I hated killing that dog, but the gods are hard on us; they demand sacrifice and then ignore us. This Lightning was a huge beast, powerful and sullen, a warhorse, and I was in my war-glory on that dark day. I was dressed in mail and clad in steel and leather. Serpent-Breath, best of swords, hung at my left side, though for the enemy I faced that day I needed no sword, no shield, no axe. But I wore her anyway because Serpent-Breath was my companion. I still own her. When I die, and that must be soon, someone will close my fingers around the leather-bindings of her worn hilt and she will carry me to Valhalla, to the corpse-hall of the high gods, and we shall feast there.
But not that day.
That dark summer day I sat in the saddle in the middle of a muddy street, facing the enemy. I could hear them, but could not see them. They knew I was there.
The street was just wide enough for two wagons to pass each other. The houses either side were mud and wattle, thatched with reeds that had blackened with rain and grown thick with lichen. The mud in the street was fetlock deep, rutted by carts and fouled by dogs and by the swine that roamed free. The spiteful wind rippled the puddles in the ruts and whipped smoke from a roof-hole, bringing the scent of burning wood.
I had two companions. I had ridden from Lundene with twenty-two men, but my mission in this shit-smelling, rain-spitted village was private and so I had left most of my men a mile away. Yet Osbert, my youngest son, was behind me, mounted on a grey stallion. He was nineteen years old, he wore a suit of mail and had a sword at his side. He was a man now, though I thought of him as a boy. I frightened him, just as my father had