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Chapters (76)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise forMATTHEW HARFFY
  3. BY MATTHEW HARFFY
  4. Title Page
  5. Copyright
  6. Dedication
  7. Maps
  8. Epigraph
  9. Contents
  10. Place Names
  11. One
  12. Two
  13. Three
  14. Four
  15. Five
  16. Six
  17. Seven
  18. Eight
  19. Nine
  20. Ten
  21. Eleven
  22. Twelve
  23. Thirteen
  24. Fourteen
  25. Fifteen
  26. Sixteen
  27. Seventeen
  28. Eighteen
  29. Nineteen
  30. Twenty
  31. Twenty-One
  32. Twenty-Two
  33. Twenty-Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Thirty-Six
  47. Thirty-Seven
  48. Thirty-Eight
  49. Thirty-Nine
  50. Forty
  51. Forty-One
  52. Forty-Two
  53. Forty-Three
  54. Forty-Four
  55. Forty-Five
  56. Forty-Six
  57. Forty-Seven
  58. Forty-Eight
  59. Forty-Nine
  60. Fifty
  61. Fifty-One
  62. Fifty-Two
  63. Fifty-Three
  64. Fifty-Four
  65. Fifty-Five
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Fifty-Seven
  68. Fifty-Eight
  69. Fifty-Nine
  70. Sixty
  71. Sixty-One
  72. Sixty-Two
  73. Author’s Note
  74. Acknowledgements
  75. About the Author
  76. An Invitation from the Publisher

“I am sorry.” I longed to hear of his past, of who he had been before becoming a monk. But I would not pry. It was his tale to tell, and if he chose to keep it from me, I must respect that, however difficult.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said with a sigh. “I know your choice was not an easy one. I was a poor friend to you. I was your teacher, and a teacher should offer support. Instead, I judged you.” He scratched at his tonsured head. The hair above his ears was greying. “I blamed you for my own part in the fighting.”

I knew he had resented being placed in a position where he had needed to kill, but to hear him speak the words, that he had blamed me, hurt more than I would have imagined.

I took a long breath. My left hand rested on the pommel of my scabbarded sword. Absently, I traced the familiar shape of the iron pommel, plain wooden grip and simple cross guard.

“You are right that this path has not been easy,” I said. “There are days when I wonder at the decisions I have made.”

“All men question themselves,” said Leofstan. “At least, good men do.”

“I am not so sure I am a good man.” I searched the sea for sign of the seals, but they had gone now, if they had ever been there. “I have missed you,” I said suddenly, not allowing myself to think too much before uttering the words that I knew to be true. “And I have missed your guidance.”

Leofstan nodded, as if he expected me to say as much.

“You are a good man,” he said. “But I will not always be there to guide you.” His words had the sound of a premonition, and I looked at him askance. Leofstan’s face was in shadow, but his eyes gleamed with the last light of the day reflected from the North Sea. “God will always listen to your prayers, Hunlaf, even when I am gone. But,” he finished with a smile, perhaps sensing that the tone of his words had shaken me, “I am with you now.”

“Why are you here?” I asked. I was glad he had come to Uuiremutha, but it was unclear to me what his purpose was.

“I have thought much on The Treasure of Life.” His tone grew sombre, darkening just as the world around us closed in with the dusk. “The words I read in its pages had great power.”

“Aren’t they just words?” I asked, recalling what he had said to me in the past.