“They want to ransom me,” I said, “so they can teach me to read and write, and then make me into a priest.” “A priest? Like the squinty little bastard with the red hair?” “Just like him.” Ragnar laughed. “Maybe I should ransom you. It would be a punishment for telling lies about me.” “Please don’t,” I said fervently, and at that moment I wondered why I had ever wanted to go back to the English side. To exchange Ragnar’s freedom for Alfred’s earnest piety seemed a miserable fate to me. Besides, I was learning to despise the English. They would not fight, they prayed instead of sharpening their
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