“Leather hinges creaked, fresh air swept through the open doorway and I collapsed back on to the mattress, my head reeling with the throb of last night’s ale. From outside the shrill cries of an ox-herd pierced my ears and wooden-wheeled carts clattered and groaned as if they were driving through my skull. Then, in the distance, I heard the forge hammers ringing on metal like a clash of swords and the memory of last night’s battle seeped into my memory, painful as a festering wound. I stared up ...into the smoke-blackened thatch of the guest-house, trying to shake my head clear of the nightmare images. ‘Are you dead?’ Wulf asked loudly, striding into the room and banging the door shut behind him. He squatted next to my bed, reached inside his tunic, pulled out a small leather pouch, opened it and tipped two gold rings into his palm. He held them close to his face and examined them carefully in the dim light of the room. I struggled up on to one elbow and, still blinking sleep from my eyes, leaned over to look at them.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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