![]() Gold-flanked roach eye the surround and flick away. Hereward watches the silts and clays wash and spin. The water-silked dark under the grey clouds-bathes the weir-stakes. But with eels he will go to the edges of the High Fen forest, the outlying burghs of Angelcynn and Gywre, and trade for browis-stew with boiled dove, and a deerskin shirt. He does not prefer eel to pike or sprat, or sturgeon or even the dry white flesh of watercray. The sun is a bare grey ring behind the clouds. ![]() Hereward the Wake has come to rest by a slice of sun-stone set at the shore, iolite refracting bluegreen. ![]() Iron stakes pounded into the bed of the saltmarsh arc from the blacksoil into the shallow reeds, straw crosshatching the stakes, a water-net for the sprats and silver pike, eels, and the marshcray hunched among the reedbone husks in the mud. From The Pocket Encyclopedia of Revolutionary Violence, for the Years 1066-2092, vol 1, entry 1 ![]()
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