They are rolled together, like mist, by the breath of his rage. I stood in the darkness of my strength. Toscar drew his sword at my side. The foe came on like a stream. The mingled sound of death arose.
Darts hiss through air.
Spears ring on mails. Swords on broken bucklers bound. But Uthal fell beneath my sword. The sons of Berrathon fled. Thou art fallen, young tree, I said, with all thy beauty round thee.