I could imagine Cnut sitting there and thinking that I must join him soon, and we would raise a horn of ale together. There is no pain in Valhalla, no sadness, no tears, no broken oaths.
He was a hard man, but what else would he be? He had stood in the shield wall, he had watched the Danes come to the attack, and he had lived. He was no youngster.
Cnut Longsword had near killed me with his blade Ice-Spite and it was small consolation that Serpent-Breath had sliced his throat in the same heartbeat that his sword had broken a rib and pierced my l...
You bastard!' he shouted. He was quick. No warrior stays alive by being slow.
Earsling,' a harsh voice challenged me from beside the Wheatsheaf's heart. 'What rancid demon brought you here to spoil my day?' I stared. And stared. Because the last person I had ever expected to se...