As in a dream, I watched the giant Jodd cut down a gorgeous captain, the axe shearing through his golden armour as though it were but silk.

I watched a comrade of my own fall beneath a spear-thrust.

I gazed at the face of Heliodore, who stared wide-eyed at the red scene, and at the white-lipped Irene, who was clinging to my arm.

Now we were being pressed back again, we who at this point had at most two hundred men, some of whom were down, to bear the onslaught of twice that number, and, do what I would, my fingers strayed to my sword-hilt.
Our triple line bent in like a bow and began to break.

The scales of war hung on the turn, when, from the dense belt of trees upon our left, suddenly rose the cry of "_Valhalla! Valhalla! Victory or Valhalla!_" for which I, who had overheard Jodd's orders, was waiting.