"The man is dead," said a rough voice.

"Let him bide." "He is not," one answered.

"He had nought to slay him.

Here be three flesh wounds only." Then I began to come to myself, for water was being poured on my face, and I opened my eyes and saw Thrand of Colchester looking at me.

My head was on his knee, and he had a helm full of water in his hand.