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eBook Category: Historical Fiction/Romance
eBook Description: In the Eye of the Storm. When the Roman peace was a memory and the Conqueror's peace a distant murmur, the land was in limbo. There was an uneasy calm and the jackals were in. It was a waiting time, with a swirl of undercurrents and secret power moves. There was space enough, as ever, for a man and a woman to make a life. But for a hardened warrior and a Thane's new bride? Garth acted out his destiny as Rider in Thane Ordlaf's household. Then, a swing of chance, a savage Northmen's raid and a last ditch rescue... In the eye of the storm, there was now a strange time in counterpoint for Garth and Hilda to buck their time. But survival was their first priority. Set in the dark times of the Saxon era, this contains all the excitement, twists and turns that have made Douglas R. Mason's novels compulsive reading.

eBook Publisher: Golden Apple, Wallasey, Published: UK, 2001
Fictionwise Release Date: October 2004

4 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [180 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [204 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [154 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.1 MB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [176 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [280 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [203 KB] , hiebook (KML) [381 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [221 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [144 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [179 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [217 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [233 KB]
Words: 57444
Reading time: 164-229 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

Garth took the short way from Guthlac's Hall to the church in the dunes. It led through a half mile of dense forest, by a narrow path, crossed by tree roots and rocky outcrops. When the birch trees thinned and the peat floor changed to powder soft sand, it was a surprise to find that it was still bright day with real warmth in the sun. He ploughed up the first slope, sinking ankle deep at every step and stood stock still, as he always did, to look out across the apron of level ground to the distant sea.

The sun rested on its rim like a red disk, staining the water with a flood of colour and shining redly on the polished links of his ring mail. He went down the reverse slope, digging his heels into sliding sand and working over to the left, where the main path from the village came round to the open gate of a rough stockade. Here was Father Aelfric's fragile kingdom--a simple church and a small homestead, built with his own hands to minister to the spiritual needs of Thane Guthlac and his people. Sand had been cleared down to a bedrock of sandstone. The church stood in the centre like the boss on a shield. There was a sense of challenge, as though the dunes were held back by constant vigilance, but could move at any time, to take back the space again. The old man was fond of using it as a parable for the place of faith in a turbulent world.

The house was cold and clean and bare as a hermit's cell. Aelfric gave himself no ease. Garth shivered at the chill. It had always been so in past years, when he had made daily visits to the priest's house for instruction. Now he came at the day's end, partly from habit and partly as a friend, to sit across a narrow trestle table to talk and argue.

What was uppermost in both their minds was the flux and shift of the times and the sense of looming disaster all around. The world they knew was always hard for most people; but now it seemed to be balanced on a knife-edge.

Garth raised the question as old as the church, that the troubles of the last cruel winter must throw doubt on the claim that there was a caring God at the back of all. Disease and death had stalked the land. Even Thane Guthlac's well-found hall had been sorely pressed. Either God was uncaring or he was powerless.

Aelfric reached across and put his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"My son, my son. You are too hot! I pray that wisdom and understanding will come to you as the years pass. Never forget that Man's Sin draws down God's anger. He is a stern Father."

Although he looked closely for a trace of it, Garth saw no shadow of doubt in the priest's calm face. Neither was there any irony in the steady voice. But he pressed his point.

"But I know the families, Father. Their only sin is that they are poor. The harvest was the worst in memory. What little was left was taken by raiders. They only had their lives and God took those!"

"You are not all seeing, Garth. You could not look into their hearts. No man is free from sin. Not you. Not me. He whom hunger kills, goes to God. Unless he was particularly sinful. We must believe that."

"Nevertheless..." Garth copied the tone, "I know for a fact that in the Thane's Hall we have survived the winter, sinners or not, in some comfort with food to eat."

Aelfric's grip tightened with surprising strength for one so old and frail looking, "I have been at fault, Garth, to let you talk so freely on these matters. I know you think deeply and I have enjoyed our disputations. But now I beg you to take care. Such opinions would not be welcome elsewhere. I know you have a good heart and for that much is forgiven. But let your head rule your tongue. Always remember that Thane Guthlac gave you a home when your father died. He has not neglected the training due to your rank. You have been treated as a Thane's son. You owe him the debt of service."

"Which I would pay with my life."

"I do not doubt it."