Read Online The Sword and the Flame by Stephen Lawhead - Free Book Online

very like his father the young prince was.
    They were riding back along the trail—the way Toli and the prince had come—when Durwin put out a hand and they stopped. “Listen!” he hissed. Both cocked their heads to one side. They heard a rustle in the bushes behind them along the path.
    â€œPerhaps Toli is returning,” offered the prince.
    Durwin felt the darkness around him increase. He could almost see it as a presence, feel its desperate strength. It occurred to him that he had encountered such a malignant force before, and in exactly the same way—a long time ago.
    â€œWe must run for it!” he whispered harshly. Gerin acted quickly and without question. With a snap of the reins, the two horses leaped away. They charged along the winding forest path toward the safety of the open plain. They had not run far before they met two men in the path ahead, wearing the same dark clothing as the others they had encountered. The men waved swords in front of the horses and shouted fiercely. The horses stopped and turned. Durwin pulled his mount around, and Gerin did the same, but as they made to retreat, two more ruffians stepped out onto the path behind them.
    â€œThere!” cried Durwin, pointing into the brush. He hesitated and allowed the prince to flash past and then darted after him.
    But the pony became entangled in the undergrowth and went down. Prince Gerin yelped as he was pitched over his mount’s head to the ground, where he landed with a grunt.
    â€œHurry!” shouted Durwin. “Get back in the saddle! Hurry!”
    The boy leaped back to his feet and grabbed at the dangling saddle even before the animal had regained its legs. “Ride!” shouted Durwin. “Ride!”
    The hermit glanced down and saw hands reaching out for him. He slashed down with the reins and heard someone curse. He spurred his mount after the fleeing prince, but felt his arm caught and held. The horse jerked away, and Durwin was hauled from the saddle, struggling as he fell.
    He landed on his back at the edge of the trail; there was a flash in the shadow, and he heard the air sing above his head. He squirmed and rolled to his knees and felt a sharp sting in his side. As he half-turned and threw himself backward toward the trail, he heard the rush of air through clenched teeth and saw the glancing light arc toward him. The blow caught him low in the back; his knees buckled, and he toppled onto the trail.
    Durwin put his hand to his side and felt the warm wetness seeping through his clothes. When he brought his hand away, he saw it dripping red in the dimness of the forest. The wound burned now; flames spread through him from the throbbing pain just below the ribs. He tried to raise himself, but fell back—legs numb and unfeeling.
    There was a quick movement beside him, a shout in the forest a little way off, and the thrashing of branches. He heard another shout farther away and then silence.
    Time gathered itself into a ball, slowed, and hovered without moving. Durwin’s mind raced. He had been struck down by an unseen sword. Instead of finishing him, the attackers had gone after Prince Gerin. He must alert Toli, but how? He tried to call out, but the effort brought a flash of white-hot pain to his side. He coughed and spat. His spittle was flecked with blood.
    The wound is bad, he told himself, but no matter. He lay back, panting. Toli must be summoned. The holy hermit of Pelgrin Forest closed his eyes and began to pray.
    â€œGod Most High, hear your servant in his time of need. Guide Toli here to save us. Bring him quickly before it is too late. Keep the prince safe, I pray. Keep him safe . . .”
    Dark mist rolled over him, engulfing him, and slowly his lips stopped moving. He lay back in the soft, mossy turf of the forest path-way, an ugly red stain spreading slowly beneath him.

    Quentin had reached the edge of Pelgrin and started back across the plain when he hesitated. Was