Nothing Else Matters
“Stian was the first to see the smoke, though the shout the sight ripped out of him was enough to bring the other riders hurrying up the hil behind him. He was the first to see it because he’d ridden ahead of the cavalcade and so reached the top of the rise across the val ey of the Harl from Harelby Castle wel ahead of the wagons with the women and baggage. It was a clear, bright late afternoon without a cloud in the sky. Somehow, the gentle blue background made the rising pil ar of darkness al ...the more ominous and out of place. It gave the lie to the air of peace that had surrounded the day until now.
There were woods, the narrow river, more woods and the fields of the manor between where Stian brought his horse to a halt and the place he cal ed home, but he knew without a doubt where the smoke was coming from.
“Oh sweet Jesu,” he whispered, the reins tight in his tense hands. His eyes closed as he leaned forward in the high saddle, momentarily immobilized by pictures his imagination carved from he dark column of smoke.MoreLess
There were woods, the narrow river, more woods and the fields of the manor between where Stian brought his horse to a halt and the place he cal ed home, but he knew without a doubt where the smoke was coming from.
“Oh sweet Jesu,” he whispered, the reins tight in his tense hands. His eyes closed as he leaned forward in the high saddle, momentarily immobilized by pictures his imagination carved from he dark column of smoke.MoreLess
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