Will you tell us what you know of this man who has been slain?
I think you are no Welshman of Cornwall." "I am Thorgils the Norseman of Watchet, king," he answered.
"Thorgils the axeman, men call me, by reason, of some skill with that weapon which your folk seem to hold in no repute, which is a pity.

Shipmaster am I by trade, and I am here to seek for cargo, that I may make one more voyage this winter with the more profit, having to cross to Dyfed, beyond the narrow sea, though it is late in the year." "I thought you might be a Dane from Tenby." "The Welsh folk know the difference between us by this time," Thorgils said, with a little laugh.

"They call them 'black heathen' and us 'white heathen,' though I don't know that they love us better than they do them.

By grace of Gerent the king, to be politic, or by grace of axe play, to speak the truth, we have a little port of our own here on this side the water, at the end of the Quantocks, where we seek to bide peaceably with all men as traders." "Ay! I have heard of your town," said Ina.

"Now, can tell us how Morgan and his brother came to be in company with outlaws ?" "He fell out with Gerent over us, to begin with.