The First and Last War
The night before Hastings, Roland de Bayeux could not sleep. He sat on a wooden crate in Duke William's camp, sharpening his sword with a whetstone. The rhythmic scrape-scrape-scrape was the only sound he could hear over the distant murmur of ten thousand men preparing for battle. Around him, soldiers checked their armour, tested their swords, whispered prayers to gods they weren't sure were...
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