Gainsborough, Lindsey, 1013 AD
If anyone had told me as I entered manhood that my bitter, lifelong enemy would be a woman, I would have laughed in his face – I swear it"s the truth. More dangerous than a berserker Viking, her sharpest weapon is a lying tongue that can make a man believe the Sun sets in the East. When that woman is also a queen, the peril is yet greater. I call her the Norman witch, although her real name is Emma. Whether she practises witchcraft I know not, but I am as sure as the river flows to the sea that she is evil and ambitious. If we Saxons are not careful, she will steal our own land from under our noses.
At this point, I need to explain how fate led me to the person who inadvertently ensured my wyrd would be entwined with that of the said Norman witch. It began
