The Glenwood post., 1904-07-23

Randalin rode in a dream. The son
of Lodbrok was beside her, singing as
he went. and tossing his great battle
axe in the air, to catch it again by
the handle. In front of them rode
Canute the King; in his hand his
cleaning blade. whose thin edge he
tried now and again on a lock of
his floating hair. while he laughed
with boyish delight
On, till the bowmens faces were
plain before them; then suddenly it
began to hail-"the hail of the string"
Arrows! One hissed by the girls ear.
and one bit her cloak, to hang there
quivering with impotent fury. The
man on her right made terrible CUR
Cling sound and put up his hand to
tear shaft from his throat. Would
they be slain before-Canute rose in
his stirrups with a great shout. The
horns echoed it; the trot became a
gallop, and the gallop run. On on,
into the very heart of the hail-cloud.
How the stones ratified on the armor!
And hissed. There! a man was
death doomed; he was falling.
To the side of the young leader.
Thorliel the Tall was squirting, bend
ing urgently from his saddle. Graft,
my King! Craft! Why spill so much
good blood? Listen to Edrc the Gain
er-"
Canute's furious curse cut him short.
ITO the Troll with your craft, Swords
shall make us. or swords shall mar
us. Use your blade, or l will sheathe
it in you"
Only the wind that took it from his
lips heard the Tall Ones answer; for
at that moment his horse reared and
sheered away before a spear-prick.
and into the rift a handful of English
rushed with shouts of triumph.
There were no more than half-a-
dozen of them, and all were on foot,
the two whose gold-hilted swords pro-
claimed their nobility of birth sharing
the lot of their lesser comrades, ac
cording to the old Saxon war-custom;
but it needed not the daring of the at
tack to mark them as the very flower
of English chivalry. The young no.
Bile, who lowered around his chief
much as Rothgar circled about Canute.
would have been lordly in a serf's tu-
mic; and the leaders, royal bearing
distinguished him even more than his
mighty frame.
At the sight of him Rothgar uttered
a great cry of Edmund" and moved
forward. swinging his uplifted axe.
But the Ironside caught it on his
shield and delivered a sword-thrust in
return that dropped the Danes arm
by his side. AS it fell, Rothgar's left
hand plucked forth his blade. but the
English king had pressed him toward
his master.
Canutes weapon had need to dart
like a northern light The noble and
one of the soldiers had forced their
way to the side from which Thorkel
had been riven, and a third threatened
him from the rear. Three blades stab
bing at him as with one motion.
1t was a strange thing that saved
him-Randalin could explain it least
of all But in lightning flash it
was burnt into her mind that. while
her kings sword was a match for
the two in front of him, the one be
hind was going to deal him his death
And even as she thought it, she found
that she had thrown herself across her
horses neck and thrust out her sword
arm-out with the force and frenzy
and down into the shoulder of the
Englishman. In kind of dazed won.
der, she saw his blade fall from his
grasp and his eyes roll up at her, as
he staggered backward
Canute laughed out. well done.
Berserker!" and redoubled his play
against those before aim
A turn of his wrist disarmed the
soldier, and his point touched the
young mobiles breast; but before he
could lunge, the mighty figure of Ed
mund rose close at hand his blade
heaved high above his head.
ITO be continued)