![]() The man was an Irish auxiliary who fought for the English and had no mail to protect him. Its owner tried desperately to rip his arm free of the straps but the forward pressure held him secure. Leaning back, he dragged the shield forward and down. The stocky Irishman slid left, straddling the Englishman’s corpse and hooking the blade of his axe over the rim of an enemy shield. He would be one of the few English knights slain this day. He fell face-down into the bloody, churned-up muck at O’Neill’s feet and did not stir. ![]() The blow did not penetrate the mail coif there, but the force of it broke the man’s neck. O’Neill pivoted back to his left and brought his axe down behind the Englishman’s steel helmet. The man who lunged at him stumbled forward, off balance, into the gap in the Irish line. The razor-sharp blade slid along his hide-covered shield, digging a furrow but drawing no blood. ![]() Hugh O’Neill lurched to his right, dodging the sword thrust aimed at his throat. While some of the characters in this story are actual historical figures, their actions are largely the product of the author’s imagination. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.ĭeclan O’Duinne is a work of fiction. Declan O’Duinne, Copyright © 2018 by Wayne Grant. ![]()
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