Asculf surveyed the scene of c*****e, removed his helm and swayed wearily. More’s the pity, he mused, that he had not fought alongside a single man from Sceapig. They, those islanders who viewed him askance, would have seen his father’s son live up to the valour of his sire’s reputation. Certainly, he had wielded the blade of victory with honour; nobody present could deny it. The supporters of Baldred, strewn on the bloodied turf nearest to him, soon to be carrion for the predators wheeling overhead, lay in silent testimony to his prowess.
blade of victory“Come, Asculf! Stop your dreaming!” The voice of Thegn Sibert cut across his thoughts. “I want you to meet someone—come!”
The younger man had noticed that the ageing thegn’s muscles had not betrayed him on this field of s*******r. The n
