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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

My eyes flicked open as a huge sound echoed over the river. It was unlike anything I had heard before, a resonant, rumbling growl that set the hair on my neck on end. It had the dark power of nightmare, like the scream of a devil in a fever dream. Pigeons shot into the sky, frightened from their perches in the forest.

I sat up, my hand dropping to the hilt of my sword. I was not certain I had truly heard the dreadful sound. Had I dreamt it?

Then I heard it again and the sound, deep, booming and filled with inhuman malice, made me leap to my feet. The next sound I heard reinforced the reality of this waking nightmare. The forest reverberated with the ululating cries of a man in terrible agony and fear for his life.

Forty-Five

The forest was loud with shouts and yells and the terrible, sonorous roars that sent fingers of dread scratching down my spine. Ulf was barking, adding his incessant yelping anxiety to the din. I surged up from my blanket, my weariness forgotten. Following Beorn and Hereward, I hurried into the twilight, tugging my sword from its scabbard.

Branches snapped ahead of us. A man howled in a paroxysm of pain. Another growling roar was followed by snarling and grunting and the sound of something large crashing through the undergrowth.

Runolf and Gwawrddur ran into our path, almost colliding with us in the gloom. For the first time I could recall, I saw fear on both of their faces. The shock of their fright heightened the terror I felt building within me.

“What is it?” shouted Hereward.

“Bear,” was all Runolf could manage. He made to push past us, heading for the boat.

“A bear?” I asked.

“Run,” screamed Gwawrddur. “There is nothing we can do now. We must flee.”

I saw through the trees to either side of us, Os and Eadmaer leaping and bounding over bracken and brambles, hurrying down to the river.

We hesitated. Hereward looked set to carry on towards the noise.

Runolf shoved me aside.

“If you stay there, it will kill you. Bealdwulf tried to hold it off for a moment, but he’s dead now. Nothing can stop a beast of that size. It is a monster.”

Only moments earlier we had sat side-by-side next to the fire and chewed our dried fish in companionable silence. As ever, he had been quiet and serious, but he was a good man, strong and brave.

“Dead?” I said, my voice timid and almost lost in the clash and roar of the angry bear. I shook my head stupidly, trying to make sense of this madness. “Bealdwulf can’t be dead.” Surely Runolf must have been mistaken.

“Come on,” shouted Runolf, tugging on my arm.

I could not move. The forest canopy ahead of us shuddered, and I wondered at the power needed to tremble the leaves of such massive trees.