Under the weight of many suspicious stares, Ceolwulf recounted, from the beginning, all that had transpired within the Wessex camp. His words were steady, his face grave. He claimed that he knew a way for the Northmen to claim victory — if Ragnar would accept his allegiance.
"Land enough there shall be when the war is won," Ragnar said as he strode forward, his shadow falling long across the rush-strewn floor. "But tell me — why should I trust you?"
The murmur in the hall was cold with scorn. Nobles shifted in their seats, warriors smirked into their cups. Ceolwulf felt their contempt burn like frost upon his skin. At last he gritted his teeth and flung his answer into the hush.
"Because you have no time left!"
