“Sire?” The chamberlain bowed as the king rushed through the door. “The messenger from the Scottish frontier awaits you by the hearth.”
Athelstan brushed past the bowing man and stepped into the firelit hall. His men had already crowded into the room in anticipation of the king"s arrival. Those who had come from the hunt packed in with them. Hakon fought his way through the pandemonium and found a seat on the hard-packed floor near the hearth. He sat gingerly, sore from the full-speed ride from Oswald"s.
King Athelstan sat on his royal Seat and held up his hand for silence. “Bring the messenger to me,” he commanded of his chamberlain as an uneasy hush fell over the men.
The chamberlain motioned to a scruffy teenage boy. The boy peered about the room with red-rimmed eyes before stepping
