'The King is dying.' That was what the messenger said. Well it was expected. The old man had passed the age of sixty some time ago, and had been feeble for a while. A week before the Christ's Mass he had lost consciousness, but now, we were told he had revived. Ealdgyth refused to go where Harold had summoned her, so I went in her stead. I had never been at a death bed. I had no idea what
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