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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 enjoyed Gersine’s company, but truth be told, his adulation of me, and his pandering to my ego, agreeable as it was, did nothing good for my character. Many times in my life, my pride has led me into trouble. Even now, the act of penning this annal is borne from a prideful desire to tell my story. But I am an old man now, with an old man’s perspective on my life. I can look back at the path I have followed and see clearly now the moments where I wandered from righteousness. Those moments have been too frequent. In spite of my keen mind and love of knowledge, I have been very slow to learn certain lessons.

Peering back now, through the swirling mists of my memories, I can see that over those long winter days, as weeks turned to months, part of me came adrift, like a boat untethered from its moorings. Without the guiding influence of Leofstan and the other monks with whom I had lived those past years, I found it increasingly necessary to act the part of the warrior. I was strong and fast, and the men and women of Uuiremutha had never known me as a monk. I carried a sword and wore a byrnie, and was friend to the son of their lord, so I was a warrior in their eyes. I held my head high and strutted about the settlement of huts, hand on the hilt of my sword, as I had seen Gwawrddur do.

The men Mancas had instructed to work with Runolf lowered their gaze when I passed. They offered me deference and I saw something in their eyes, fear perhaps, or maybe admiration, and I enjoyed the sensation it brought me. At times, when Gersine had not come, or when he had already returned to his father’s hall, I would think about Leofstan and what he would have said about my transformation. At such times, feeling ashamed, I would have one of the fishermen take me across the Uuir in one of their small skiffs. I would enter the cold gloom of the stone church and gaze up at the watery light of the winter sky oozing through the different coloured glass panes of the church windows, a thing of wonder indeed that the locals said had been created by Frankish craftsmen before living memory. Kneeling in the pools of light on the hard flagstones, my breath steaming in the air before me, I would pray silently and listen for the voice of God. I know the Almighty hears all, but He never spoke to me in that cold church.