Flames of Prophecy

Flames of Prophecy continues the story of Bron and the people of Byden as they begin to doubt their ancient beliefs and question their sun god, Ashuba.

But will they be able to free themselves from the evil grip of the Temple? Will High Priest, Vortin, at last fulfil his desire and make Bron his High priestess? Or will the settlement be totally destroyed by sword and flame, as Umbella, the witch, predicts?

Revenge, murder, kidnap, lust and love – Iris Lloyd provides another fabulous read that will leave you eager for the next instalment.


ISBN 978-1-906206-23-9



Pulcher had decided long ago that nothing in this life or the next could even remotely approach the ecstasy of watching Bron bathing.

He gazed and worshipped as she paddled about in the cold flow of the Stan, envying the clear water that splashed her honey-coloured skin, the droplets cooling the hills and valleys of her young body.

She crouched, as smooth and rounded as the pebble she was choosing, then stood and stretched to hold it against the sunlight, with very little hidden from his view and left to his imagination.

He would have been alarmed and she less playful if they had been aware that two pairs of dark eyes were violating her privacy and relishing every movement of her naked body.

Climbing the low bank, she reached for her towel, rubbed herself and her thick, black curls dry on its rough weave, and quickly dressed.

A cock pheasant flapped noisily from its cover, raucously protesting at being disturbed by the breeze that rustled through the bramble bushes.

He saw Bron jump and look nervously around. She would be checking to make sure that Vortin was not concealed nearby and seeking comfort from the sight of his own dwarfish figure on the opposite bank. She knew that he would never allow the High Priest anywhere near her, although at that moment his eyes were modestly averted and directed up the hill towards the settlement.

When his gaze was lured back, she was shaking her curls dry.

About to return by way of the stepping stones, Bron still looked uncertain. Whatever it was she then heard caused her to spin around in alarm. Suddenly, two young Roman legionaries sprang up from the tall grasses edging the stream. As she turned to flee, shouting desperately for help, one threw his arms around her, encircling her waist, while the other clamped a hand over her mouth.

Hobbling up the hill towards the market, all the while cursing his deformed legs for their lack of speed, Pulcher began screaming for help for the girl he loved more than life itself.

When he reached the first houses, he looked back. Bron was still grappling with her kidnappers, struggling and kicking, but in spite of her spirited resistance, they found no difficulty in tossing her up on to the saddle of one of their horses, which must have been tethered out of sight in the trees.

When he looked again, they were galloping south-eastwards, in the direction of Calleva Atrebatum.