At the head of the class, Father Otker lead the colloquy. The voices of Winchester"s noble sons echoed off the stone walls of the classroom as they answered his words in Latin.
I am a hunter, their voices rang.
Whose? asked Father Otker.
The king"s, they answered in unison.
How do you carry on your work?
I weave my nets, and put them in a suitable place, and train my hounds to pursue the wild beasts … .
Back and forth the colloquy went, teacher and pupils. Hakon tried to follow along with the others, but his mouth could not wrap itself around the long Latin words that differed so completely from his own guttural tongue. Nor was his grasp of Latin sufficient to speak the strange language so quickly. Determined, he jumped into the colloquy when it paused, only to trip again when it rea
