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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 sprang back, wary of a wild swing of his sword, but Wistan did not attack. His eyes were wide, and he stared at me for a heartbeat before looking down. I had meant to gut him, sinking my blade through the fat and muscle of his belly. And yet, although there was blood staining his kirtle, it was from my previous cut to his side. His midriff appeared whole. With the same shock on his features that I felt, Wistan gazed down at where my sword stroke should have pierced his flesh. I saw what had happened at the same instant that he understood.

He wore a thick leather belt about his waist. It was secured with a heavy bronze buckle. The metal of the buckle was scored and pitted where my sword had struck. He would be bruised, but his buckle had prevented my killing blow.

Our eyes met. We both knew that he should be dying. His face was pale and I hoped that he might end this now. He could not hope to stand against me and survive for much longer.

That was when the shouting started. All about us, the men and women who had gathered to watch the duel, were yelling and screaming. Some turned and ran towards their homes. Runolf and Hereward were bellowing orders, but I hardly heard them.

Wistan’s gaze had shifted and now he looked over my shoulder. His eyes grew fearful and his mouth dropped open. For an instant I thought it was some kind of ruse, that he wanted me to turn my back on him. It was the only way he could possibly win the bout, I thought. But then I saw the horrified expression on Cwenswith’s face, the terror on the features of Wistan’s parents. None of the villagers were interested in our duel any more. All those who had not fled, were staring out to sea.

I realised that while we had been fighting, the black clouds that had been threatening on the horizon had grown, covering the sun and plunging the land into gloaming. The wind had picked up too, whipping at the marram grass and bending the alders that grew by the river.

The squall raged above us, and a spiteful rain began to fall. The suddenness of the storm and the twilit darkness seemed unearthly, as if God Himself was angry. I followed the gaze of Wistan and the others and I thought that perhaps that was indeed the case. For speeding over the wind-fretted waves came an enemy whom many had said were the wrath of the Lord made flesh, sent to chastise us for the errors of our ways and the sins of our leaders.

If I had truly yearned for a physical foe to fight, it seemed the Almighty had granted my wish.