King's Man
Harald himself stood out like a beacon in a sea of turmoil. Seated high on his horse, whose frantic run had been halted by the mass of men, he could be seen fighting like a beserk warrior from the ancient days. He had neither shield nor armour, but held a long-shafted, single-bladed axe in each hand, his favoured weapon since his days in the Varangian guard. He was roaring out in anger. .. All around him the English foot soldiers were attempting to dodge his furious sweeping blows and, too slow, were falling to his attack. Like hundreds of his own men, I looked towards Harald, waiting for a signal telling us what to do. Without his guidance we were lost. And as I did so, I saw the arrow fly
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