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Back A Night of Flames
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

Choosing the perfect moment each time, when Toki was off-balance, or fully committed to an attack that did not connect, Gwawrddur would flick out his sword with the speed of a striking viper, touching his weapon’s wooden blade first to Toki’s throat, and then to his thigh. He did not strike with any force now, which alone showed great skill, but with each hit, the crowd sighed. Everyone watching knew that each of the three strikes would have been killing blows with iron blades.

After the third hit, it seemed that Toki would rush to attack again. He quivered before Gwawrddur, his face twisted in a snarl. Slowly, and surely only with a great effort, he let out a long breath and threw his sword down on the grass. Sighing and rubbing his bruised arm, he offered Gwawrddur his hand. The Welshman took it in the warrior grip, making the younger man wince at the pressure on his bruised forearm.

“You are a fine swordsman,” said Gwawrddur in Englisc. “You are fast, brave and skilled.”

Without thinking, I interpreted the words for Toki. It was important for him to hear what Gwawrddur had to say.

“And yet I never touched you,” Toki replied, with me echoing his words for Gwawrddur. “If we had been using steel, I would be dead three times over.”

“Ah, but we were not using steel, my friend,” Gwawrddur said, patting him on the shoulder. “Learn from this. Do not let your anger get the better of you. Fight with a clear head. Draw your enemy to you, and respond. You have the makings of a great warrior, Toki Tannskárisson.”

The sun had moved into the west by the time the sword fighting was over, and we began to think about food. But there was one more contest that the men of Orkneyjar were keen to hold.

Hroar handed over his fine knife to me after Gwawrddur’s victory, but he frowned, clearly as shocked as the rest of Tannskári’s folk at Toki’s defeat. Now he stripped off his tunic to reveal a scarred, barrel-like chest.

“Perhaps we can wager again,” he said. “I would win my knife back.”

I thought he meant to face someone with the practice swords, as he stepped towards the roped off area. He looked old and slow, but there was no denying the slabs of muscle on his chest and arms that spoke of enormous strength. A fast warrior would be able to beat him with the wooden blades. I was quick with a sword, but I could imagine the crushing power of a blow if Hroar caught his opponent, so I shook my head. I had won a contest and did not wish to run the chance of being defeated in front of Thurid. Besides, I did not wish to risk losing the ivory-handled knife.