A sliver of healthy wood jolted out under the blow, but the dead branches showed it was time for the old tree to come down. It wouldn’t be long until he reached the heartwood, and he was sure the core was rotten. He had been working for more than an hour, and sweat plastered his linen bracae to him. He had removed his tunic after warming up and felt no need for it, despite the breeze that blew through the woods. The drying perspiration cooled him and he felt at peace. It was difficult not to think about the problems of running the estate after the ransom payment, but he pushed those thoughts aside, concentrating on the swing and strike of the heavy iron blade. He paused, panting, and rested his hands on the long axe handle. There had been a time when he could have swung an axe all day, but now even the hairs on his chest had turned a winter gray. Foolish to keep pushing himself, perhaps, but old age came fastest to those who sat and waited for it, and at least the exercise kept his belly flat.
What do You think about Emperor: The Death Of Kings E#2?
