Not long ago I was in some monastery. I forget where except that it was in the lands that were once Mercia. I was traveling home with a dozen men, it was a wet winter’s day, and all we needed was shelter, food, and warmth, but the monks behaved as though a band of Norsemen had arrived at their gate. Uhtred of Bebbanburg was within their walls and such is my reputation that they expected me to start slaughtering them. “I just want bread,” I finally made them understand, “cheese if you have it, and some ale.” I threw money on the hall floor. “Bread, cheese, ale, and a warm bed. Nothing more!”
Next morning it was raining like the world was ending and so I waited until the wind and weather had done their worst. I roamed the monastery and eventually found myself in a dank corridor where three miserable-looking monks were copying manuscripts. An older monk, white-haired, sour-faced and resentful, supervised them. He wore a fur stole over his habit, and had a leather quirt with which he doubtless encouraged the industry of the three copyists. “They should not be disturbed, lord,” he dared to chide me. He sat on a stool beside a brazier, the warmth of which did not reach the three scribblers.
“The latrines haven’t been licked clean,” I told him, “and you look idle.”
So the older monk went quiet and I looked over the shoulders of the ink-stained copyists. One, a slack-faced youth with fat lips and a fatter goiter on his neck, was transcribing a life of Saint Ciaran, which told how a wolf, a badger, and a fox had helped build a church in Ireland, and if the young monk believed that nonsense then he was as big a fool as he looked. The second was doing something useful by copying a land grant, though in all probability it was a forgery. Monasteries are adept at inventing old land grants, proving that some ancient half-forgotten king has granted the church a rich estate, thus forcing the rightful owner to either yield the ground or pay a vast sum in compensation. They tried it on me once. A priest brought the documents and I pissed on them, and then I posted twenty sword-warriors on the disputed land and sent word to the bishop that he could come and take it whenever he wished. He never did. Folk tell their children that success lies in working hard and being thrifty, but that is as much nonsense as supposing that a badger, a fox, and a wolf could build a church. The way to wealth is to become a Christian bishop or a monastery’s abbot and thus be imbued with heaven’s permission to lie, cheat, and steal your way to luxury.
The third young man was copying a chronicle. I moved his quill aside so I could see what he had just written. “You can read, lord?” the old monk asked. He made it sound like an innocent inquiry, but the sarcasm was unmistakable.
Copyright © 2010 by Bernard Cornwell. Used by permission of of HarperCollins Publishers.
The latest book in the Saxon chronicles from novelist Bernard Cornwell, The Burning Land tells of the dark days when the Danes fought with the Saxons for possession of the British Isles. Out of these long and violent struggles, England was born.
Alfred the Great, King of Wessex, has grown old, and his territories are once again menaced by the Danish warriors who regularly plunder the neighboring kingdoms of Mercia and East Anglia. One of the most vicious of these Viking lords, Harald Bloodhair, has landed two hundred ships on the coast and proceeded deep into Wessex in search of loot. Alfred once again looks to his pagan warlord, the Thor-worshipping Uhtred, to repel the invaders. Uhtred lays his plans well, and at the battle of Fearnhamme hands the Vikings a devastating defeat. But for Uhtred, victory is short-lived: driven from Alfred’s court by personal tragedy and malicious intrigue, he renounces his oath to the King. He vows never to serve the Saxons again, and returns to his northern homeland. But his self-imposed exile is short-lived. For even as the Danes plan one last massive invasion of Wessex, Uhtred receives an urgent plea from an old friend in Alfred’s realm. Will he join the invasion, or once again fight against his northern brethren?
With the Saxon Chronicles, Bernard Cornwell once again combines painstaking historical research with a gift for vivid storytelling. His narrator/hero Uhtred is a masterful achievement: as fatalistic and cynical as a Dashiell Hammett character, yet as brave and ultimately noble as any knight out of Sir Walter Scott. Uhtred is torn between two cultures: the Christian south to which he is bound by oaths; and the pagan north to which he yearns to return. One is a place of laws, priests and politics, the other a land of renown earned through deeds of battle. While the latter world is ultimately more appealing to Uhtred—and, one senses, to Cornwell himself—it is the former that will ultimately triumph, and this tinges the novel with irony and regret.
But Cornwell never romanticizes the past, nor lets the reader forget the extreme violence of the time. Kirkus Reviews once referred to Cornwell as “the master of historical battle,” and he proves it again here. We don’t just see Uhtred charging the Danish line at the Battle of Fearnhamme: we hear the war cries of the Saxon warriors and feel the grind of metal on bone as the warlord plunges his sword into Viking bellies. It’s thrilling and horrifying all at once.
As always, Cornwell provides a rich cast of characters, from familiar friends like Ragnar Ragnarsson, Father Beocca and Finian the Agile to new antagonists like Skade, the Danish sorceress whose dark beauty is matched only by the blackness of her soul.
Hardcover: 352 pages
Publisher: Harper Collins Publishers ( January 19, 2010 )
Item #: 53-1567
ISBN: 9780060888749
Product Dimensions: 5.5 x 8.25 x 0.79 inches
Product Weight: 16.0 ounces

As always, anything by Cornwell is exciting and fascinating reading. It seemed for awhile that Bernard had forgotten Uhtred and I was growing impatient,indeed, for the next book in the series. But, when it arrived all was forgiven. What can I say? His historical accuracy, the bonds between friends and foes of Uhtred and unmatched battle sequences are unequaled. It is a sad thing to finish a Cornwell book. My only solace is to begin reading the Sharpe series again. Please,please hurry the next book.
Reviewer: Roger D
I have given this entire set to my son. They are very well written. He had "devoured" all the Patrick O'Brian novels and now he has discovered Cornwell.
Reviewer: Elaine S
I think this is Cornwall's best series; just a bit better than the grail quest series. His portorail of this period agrees with all of the actual history texts about vikings I have read. The characters are vivid and the attitudes they have are quiet plausable and fit well with the spirit of the times. Although, sometimes Uhtred is too unlucky, but this is balanced by being too lucky other times.
I have enjoyed the entire series and look forward to the next episoide!
Reviewer: Harry E
Once again, Bernard Cornwell takes you back in time. Utred is a character you feel for. He is the book's hero, but not the hero in every situation. For that, he is more human than most literary characters. Looking forward to Cornwell's next installation of the series.
Reviewer: Sharon S
I have been a student of history ever since I could read and it is a delight to find historical fiction written so well. Cornwell is a true storyteller and this is reflected in this 5th book of the "Saxon Chronicles". The history, the characters, the story make reading come alive in one's mind's eye. I have followed the saga of Utred the hero a Saxon/Viking, watching his life unfold in the middle of a great transitional time in English and European history. Cornwell weaves the stories of his characters into the fabric of of this amazing historical tapestry like few authors can. You will not be disappointed by this latest addition to Cornwell's "Saxon Chronicles"!
Reviewer: Paul C