Two more of the pocket of wolflings fell before Sinmora’s blade. The others looked shaken: perhaps, then, he could get through to them. “Surrender and quarter will be given.”
The man in front of the others hardened his jaw, although his eyes were still wide with fear.
“Are we not countrymen?”
The man in front found enough of his spine to spit on the deck and answer. “You rebel scum are no countrymen of mine.”
So that’s how it was going to be, was it? Einarr’s jaw hardened in turn. He had tried: there were witnesses to show he had tried to save these mens’ lives. “Then fight like men!”
Einarr did not give in to the battle fury, although the wolflings could be forgiven for thinking he had. With a roar he brought his blade up again overhead.
The men broke and ran. Einarr shook his head: these were…
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