![]() ![]() ![]() Instead I waited to see what Sihtric would do and I saw him conquer his fear. The monks were shouting at me to kill him. I stared at the boy and he could not meet my gaze, but looked away instead and he saw the bloody scrapes in the earth where the first three bodies had been dragged away and he fell to his knees. His death was a heartbeat away, no more trouble to me than swatting a fly. ![]() The monks, who had wanted to hang these Danes, but who now took an unholy glee in their honourable deaths, pushed him into the hazel ring and I could see that Sihtric did not know how to hold the sword and that his shield was nothing but a burden. Instead of attacking me they tried to defend themselves, and the second had enough skill to parry me again and again, until I lunged high, his shield went up and I kicked his ankle out from beneath him and the crowd cheered as he died. Tekil had been their leader, and a man leads other men because he is the best fighter, and in Tekil’s sudden death they saw their own, and neither put up any real fight. The two spent long hours talking and I knew it was Christian matters they discussed, but that was not my business. She was at the edge of the crowd with Father Willibald. I think the Saxons among them might have preferred to see the prisoners burned or drowned or trampled by horses, but enough of them appreciated sword work and they clapped me. ![]()
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