How Does 'Between Two Fires' Blend Horror And Historical Fiction?

As someone who devours historical fiction with a dark twist, 'Between Two Fires' nails the blend by making history itself terrifying. The Black Death isn't just backdrop—it's a character, rotting the world while something worse lurks beneath. Christopher Buehlman doesn't just drop demons into France; he makes them feel like they belong there, crawling out of medieval fears about sin and punishment. The knights and priests aren't modern people in costumes—they think and act like their time, which makes their encounters with supernatural horrors hit harder. The real genius is how the horror grows from historical trauma: starvation turns people into monsters before the demons even show up, and war atrocities blend seamlessly with supernatural ones. It's like watching a Goya painting come to life, where you can't tell where history ends and nightmare begins.

'Between Two Fires' is a masterclass in weaving genres so tightly they become inseparable. The 14th century setting isn't just window dressing—it's the root of all the horror. Buehlman takes actual medieval beliefs about plagues being divine punishment and runs with it, creating a world where every abandoned village or crazed survivor could be hiding something far worse than disease. The demons aren't generic spooks; they're tailored to the era, feeding on the despair of the Hundred Years' War and the Plague's devastation.

What stunned me was how the historical research enhances the scares. When Thomas the disgraced knight encounters a noblewoman's court rotting from within, the descriptions of her decaying finery mirror real accounts of plague victims' belongings being burned. The dialogue feels authentically medieval without being inaccessible, making the moments when hell breaks loose even more jarring. The horror escalates alongside historical tensions—as France collapses, the supernatural threats grow bolder, culminating in a siege scene where the line between human cruelty and demonic influence vanishes completely.

For fans of this blend, I'd recommend 'The Devil's Company' for another take on historical horror, or 'The Terror' for a different era with similar atmospheric dread.

This book grabbed me by the throat with how it makes history feel alive and hungry. Most historical horror just slaps ghosts on a period piece, but 'Between Two Fires' digs into what actually terrified medieval people—then makes those fears real. The demons aren't just physical threats; they exploit the era's religious panic, appearing as angels to the desperate or twisting scripture to justify atrocities. Buehlman uses details like peasant superstitions or knightly codes not as trivia, but as weapons the horror uses against the characters.

The pacing mirrors a pilgrimage gone wrong—moments of eerie calm between villages full of madness, where every encounter could be mortal or worse. The relationship between Thomas and the girl Delphine drives the story, their growing bond making the surrounding horrors hit harder. When they find a monastery turned charnel house, the description doesn't just shock; it feels inevitable in this world. The ending doesn't cheapen the horror with easy answers, leaving just enough light to make the darkness feel earned.