“King Vortigern wishes to know if your men grow,” Cerdic said in the broken dialect he learned from the servants of his Roman foster parents, who were all from the Continent.  Horsa spoke impatiently into his brother’s ear, and Hengst put up his hands and replied, “I have brought my family.  I missed them.”  Everyone laughed.

“Meet my daughter.  Come, Aemma,” and Hengst as he waved at the girl serving wine and mead in the center of the tables.  She approached, carrying a pitcher and a smile.

“She is pretty, no?” said Hengst in his broken British.  Vortigern’s eyes were fixed on her charms, and Cerdic was captivated by the e...

Please subscribe to keep reading.