The story continues...
Deorwine stands looking to the east at the longboat sailing slowly toward the island of Lindisfarne. Inside, I’m screaming, Run, run! But imprisoned inside his body, looking out through his eyes, I can only observe the events unfolding before me.
Absently, part of me thinks that this isn’t how I'd imagined it would be. Not the invasion itself—that is panning out exactly as I’d envisaged it. But experiencing it is a whole other matter. I’d thought it would be like watching it on TV—I am a fan of bloodthirsty historical movies and have sat and chomped my way through bags of popcorn while watching armies massacre each other on the screen. But of course these aren’t actors, and I’m not just watching, I’m in the thick of the action, and I can feel the way Deorwine’s heart has begun to pound, how his breathing has quickened.