“Deacon blinked against the icy spray coming off the Channel and tried to focus on where his father was pointing. The sea tilted, the ground lurched, and he swayed out toward the edge. Behind his eyes, a corridor of flame opened up. His knees buckled. A yawning black funnel tugged at him, invited him into its depths. Strong hands steadied him and led him back a pace. He glanced up at his father’s face, saw the concern in his eyes. The hard-men of the Coastal Watch nodded and grumbled. Some of ...them unconsciously stroked the hafts of spears and axes. Others wrapped fingers around the hilts of scabbarded swords. “See them now, boy?” Jarl said. Dark smudges lay behind the ocean spray. Deacon squinted until he could make out the black sails of three ships plowing through the surf, white horses leaping away from their keels. “Them’s reavers, right enough,” Jon Mori’s father said. He was a big man, as wide as he was tall. With his breastplate hitched up over his paunch, he looked like the comedy knights in the morality plays.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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