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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

I offered up a silent prayer, and, with no warning, I threw myself sideways into the undergrowth. At the same moment I let out a moaning wail. My voice was muffled and strained behind the gag, but nonetheless it was loud in the dark hush of the forest. I crashed through the sharp thorns of a bramble. My grunted shouts, still trapped behind the wad of woollen cloth wedged in my mouth, rose in pitch as the briars ripped painfully at my face.

I could hear nothing beyond the noise I was making. I wondered whether any of the others had heard, but this was my only chance and I dared not stop. I thrashed and moaned, kicking my feet out to rattle against twigs and fallen branches. I churned up the leaf-mould and the scent was rich and thick all around me.

The leader’s bulk was suddenly on me, driving the air from my lungs. He punched me in the face, hard, and the dark of the night flared bright for an instant. He hit me again, and I ceased my frantic movements. He didn’t waste time with words for me. He just grabbed hold of my gag and my tied arms and yanked me painfully to my feet. The brambles again scratched my cheeks and snagged in my clothes, and my shoulders screamed as my arms were pulled backwards.

I stood, swaying before him.

“I should gut you now,” he hissed in my ear.

But he did not. We both stood and listened to the night. For a heartbeat, there was silence, and then my heart leapt as Ulf began barking. A moment later, I heard Runolf’s deep voice.

“Who is there?”

The man behind me tensed, and I thought he would not answer. We could hear the men in the camp stirring. Ulf continued barking for a time, until Ingvar snapped at the dog to be silent. It was easy to imagine the men rising from their blankets, alert now, sliding blades from sheaths. There were whispers, too quiet to make out words from this distance. But the urgency in them was clear. We were close enough that they had heard me. I let out a long breath. Whatever else the night held in store for us, my friends would not be taken unawares.

Clearly coming to the conclusion that the moment for stealth was over, the leader once more placed his blade at my neck. With a punch in my kidneys, he propelled me forward.

“I have your man here,” he called out, his voice loud and sharp. “Throw down your weapons, or he dies.”

“If you have one of ours,” said Runolf, his voice eerily calm, “show yourself.”

Without prompting from their leader, the remaining men around me slipped into the forest, spreading out.