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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 nodded.

“The man is quite insane. God alone can predict his actions.”

“Or the Devil,” Drosten said.

I shuddered.

“Yes,” I agreed. “Perchance the Devil too.”

We fell silent for a long time and the breathing of the resting men slowed. Once more the sound of snores filled the interior of our prison, Runolf’s the loudest of all. I listened intently for signs of movement outside whenever the Norseman exhaled, for in that instant there was the briefest respite from the noise of his snoring. I heard nothing. The night beyond the walls of the hut appeared silent and peaceful.

My thoughts meandered in the dark. I wondered what they had done with Leofstan’s body. He had died unshriven, and again I felt a wave of shame at not preventing his murder.

I prayed silently for his soul then, asking God to welcome him, to offer him a place at His side in heaven. Leofstan was a good man and deserved to find peace in death. I wished that I had asked him more of his life before he became a monk. I knew nothing of his kin, or even where he came from, and I berated myself for my childish selfishness. I vowed I would never again make such a mistake. I would never take friends for granted, for you never know when they will be snatched away from you. Sadly, as with many promises I have made in my life, that was another I would fail to keep. But that is part of another tale.

Drosten’s hand on my arm broke me out of my reverie. He leaned in close and whispered so faintly that I barely heard the word he uttered.

“Listen.”

I held my breath, straining to hear anything over Runolf’s stertorous snoring. For a time, I heard nothing, then, just when I thought Drosten had been mistaken, I made out the slightest scratch at the door. Could that be a whispered voice outside?

There was no time to alert the others without giving away our readiness and losing the element of surprise. I cursed silently. Neither Drosten nor I had fallen asleep. We had both been listening, ready to warn the others, and yet still we had failed. The scrape of the stout timber bar being lifted was clear now, but still too quiet to awaken Runolf or the others.

“Ready,” I breathed into Drosten’s ear, my lips brushing his skin, as close as a lover’s. I sensed more than saw him nod in reply, and we drew apart, standing ready at either side of the doorway, prepared to attack whoever came through.