We were badly outnumbered, which makes our victory song all the sweeter. The thanes bang the table and boast of their exploits. I rush to keep their cups full as they praise the king.
Before the battle, both armies pounded on their shields, ready to fight each other to the death. Warriors never survive the death of their king, yet each is sure he will be the one to slay the enemy’s leader. I think how the foot soldiers trembled, unable to flee, and imagine the thanes filled with the lust of killing.
Everyone waited, while envoys from each army met on an elevated site where everyone could see, and some could hear the reason for battle.
First, King Cwichelm stretched out his arm and declared my uncle a robber who stole his father’s inheritance. “This day you will feel his son’s vengeance! Come forth with your chiefs. Let this valley witness the might and strength of justice!”
Lies! My uncle takes only what is his by right.
The enemy army banged its shields. But my uncle’s envoy never faltered. “Perfidious wretch! Do you have another assassin for your cowardly purpose?
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