Chapters (76)
- Cover
- Praise forMATTHEW HARFFY
- BY MATTHEW HARFFY
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Maps
- Epigraph
- Contents
- Place Names
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
“I think the Almighty has brought us here for a reason,” I said. “While I yet draw breath, I will not give up hope of finding Aelfwyn alive.” I shuddered now to imagine what horrors she must have witnessed. Runolf’s mind was surely teeming with thoughts of what Revna, little more than a child, had been forced to endure here. “And if anyone can get us out of this, it is those men there.” I nodded at Hereward and the others, who were oblivious of our conversation.
“Do you think we might yet find it?”
“The book?” I asked, incredulous.
Leofstan nodded.
“It will be a miracle if we are able to escape this place with our lives,” I said, my anger rising like a tide within me. “And you still speak of the book! Are you mad?”
“It is dangerous,” he replied, his tone even and measured, as if it were perfectly normal to yet seek out the tome. “You have seen what this man has done.”
“I do not need you to remind me of the dangers in the heresy within the pages of Mani’s teachings,” I hissed. “It would be best if it were burnt. But I care nothing now for the book. Ljósberari, though,” I said, spitting the words, my fury searing now, “if we somehow succeed in getting out of this and I get the chance, I will gladly kill the bastard that has ordered these atrocities.”
“You speak so readily of killing. Does life mean so little to you now?”
I looked down at Os’ mottled and swollen face.
“I care for life,” I replied. “More than you perhaps.”
“How so?” He sounded shocked.
“You seem to find more importance in this book than in the lives this Ljósberari has ruined.”
He shook his head sadly.
“No, that is not so. But the book is unique. We know of no other copy. It would be a disaster if it were lost for ever.” He hesitated, looking askance at me. “Or destroyed.”
“I would destroy it in a heartbeat, if it meant I could rescue Aelfwyn.”
“And then you would slay this Ljósberari?”
“In an instant.”
“So you have judged him unworthy of life. Is that not for God to decide? They say this Ljósberari calls himself a god. Such pride is ever the undoing of men.”
“There is only one true God,” I said, glaring at Leofstan. “And He will judge the man when he stands before Him at the gates of heaven. But I have made up my mind. I would put him down as I would kill a moon-touched dog.”
“You no longer have any qualms with killing then?”