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Count Not the Years
Aelfric held his elbows pinned to his sides, his face impassive. As king, he could never show weakness, never give such succor to his foes. Worse, it would worry his wife and shame his son. He would be strong for them. Flete walked ahead, leading Aelfric’s horse by the reins. ‘Not much farther.’ ‘In distance-‘ Aelfric gathered his breath against the fire in his gut. ‘Not… not in time, not at the… pace you keep.’ ‘If I had known a little spear poke would quench your boasting, I’d have tried...