Ranulf de Lannion knows a lot about adversity, because it has shaped his life. . . . .
On a night of murder, rape and pillage, marauding Vikings snatch the crippled teenager on a whim from the lonely French convent where he was hidden by a family ashamed of his deformity. Survival among a gung-ho and murderous band of pagans takes all his wits, his learning and his intelligence, not to mention raw courage.
But over the years, his ability to out-think, out-plan and out-manoeuvre the band’s enemies and manipulate its allies, earns him a legendary reputation among men who value deception and cunning almost as much as violence. His first, scornful nickname of ‘scraeling’ turns into a badge of the utmost respect as he becomes indispensable to the band. Even its leader, Harald Hardraada, proudly pronounces The Scraeling, ‘the most dangerous little bugger alive’.
But even the terrible ‘Landwaster’ has no idea of just how right he is, for the Scraeling has secretly dedicated his life to wreaking vengeance for the murdered women who brought him up . . . . .
Although Ranulf is numbered among the most rapacious band of pagans ever to embarrass their Creator, he is not one of them. Because his own world has largely been viewed from the bottom, the needs of the weak and the powerless are never far from his mind. In an age that uses women of rank as political pawns and commoners as sexual conveniences, for example, The Scraeling stands out as a decent and honourable man in a world that doesn’t have many of them. He’s also a very bright one.
The trilogy ‘Chronicles of The Scraeling’ rollicks through the eleventh century and encompasses genuine history, action drama, graphic violence, explicit sex, some outright comedy, romance and tenderness, and even bits of down-home ordinariness. All on a bed of Viking crustiness. Although each book is complete in itself, The Scraeling’s true complexity comes through if they are read in order.