The sun blazed high over the square outside Sedgebury's meadhall as Osythe, Óswine, and a growing crowd of witnesses gathered to see the duel. Only three paces from the meadhall's doors, a dueling-cloak had been spread over the stones of the path. It was worn from the feet of many disputing warriors; the color, once a rich scarlet, had faded over the generations.
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