And a king in waiting
Jeers echoed through the mead hall. The Norsemen had found Edgar’s father among the newly arrived prisoners.
Sigmund's milk-clouded gaze sought Edgar’s in their gloomy corner. “What’s happening, boy?”
“They’re killing a king,” he said, used now to acting as the old man’s eyes.
The victors roared.
“He dies well?”
His father’s head thudded to…