The summer passed, and the men returned. There was none of the rejoicing of the last time they had been out to fight.
“We fought the Anglo-Saxons at a place called Ethandun,” Erik told the gathered people. He shook his head. “Somehow, the Anglo-Saxons and their Christian king won.”
“How did that happen?” called a voice from the crowd that surrounded the returning men. Erik shrugged, but the weak king, Alfred, had defeated the strong Danes. He could not explain it to these men, but he had another unpleasant task to do.
Entering the longhouse, he sought out his mother. He put his arms around her and spoke with pride in his voice.
“Mother, I’m sorry to be the bringer of this news, but Father was killed in the shield wall. He fought bravely and almost broke through the Anglo-Saxon defence.
