“Werbode mocked as Wulfhere approached him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she cut off your balls on your wedding night.” Wulfhere smiled at him, and the expression chilled Ermenilda to the bone. It was a killer’s smile. “You talk too much,” Wulfhere told Werbode quietly. “It’s always been a failing of yours.” In response, the warrior spat once more on the ground. However, Ermenilda could see his arrogance had ebbed slightly. A hush had settled over the clearing as the king’s men wa...tched and waited for the fight to begin. To Ermenilda’s untrained eye, both men looked like equal opponents. They were both tall, muscular, and in their prime. Yet, in looks they were the opposite—one as dark as a raven’s wing, the other as pale as a summer’s dawn. The two men circled each other. Werbode grinned, tossing his knife from hand to hand as if he was toying with the king.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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