And he strode restlessly to and fro until the time came when the horn stood on
end above the man's mouth and then was lowered reluctantly.
Drawing his hand across his lips, the Brass One cleared his throat. "At your
pleasure, chief. Is it to your mind to begin with the battle? Or do you rather
wish to hear of my journey thence? I admit that that part is somewhat likely
to stick in my teeth and in your ears. From Otford to Shepey was little better
than a retreat, and if--"
"The battle! the battle!" a chorus of voices cried, and the chief confirmed
the choice.
"The battle, by all means! The other will do for lesser dishes when the first
edge is off our appetite. Where was it? And how long since? Yet, before any of
these, how goes it with my royal foster-brother? And how do his traitors carry
sail, Odin's curse upon them! Speak! How fares he?"
"On the top of the wave, my chief,--though it is my belief that he has your
mind toward Edric Jarl, for all that Thorkel is ever on hand to urge the value
of his craft. And certainly it was exceedingly useful to them at Assington--"
"Assington!"... "In Essex?" the chorus broke in upon him. "It happened as
Grimalf said--"... "--the horse with the bloody saddle which he found over the
hill--"... "Do you know for certain if Edric--" ... "Why will you interrupt
him?"... "Yes, end this talk!".
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