“Would God that I did lie! I saw him fall with an arrow through his throat. Then Jarl Tosti took the Land-ravager and held it up till he died. Then Eystein Orre took it, coming up hot from the ships. And then he died likewise. Then they all died. We would take no quarter. We threw off our mail, and fought baresark, till all were dead together.” [Footnote: For the details of this battle, see Skorro Sturleson, or the admirable description in Bulwer’s “Harold.”] “How camest thou, then, hither?” “Styrkar the marshal escaped in the night, and I with him, and a few more. And Styrkar bade me bring the news to Flanders, to the Countess, while he took it to Olaf Haroldsson, who lay off in the ships.” “And thou shalt take it. Martin! get this man a horse. A horse, ye villains, and a good one, on your lives!” “And Tosti is dead?” “Dead like a hero. Harold offered him quarter,--offered him his earldom, they say: even in the midst of battle; but he would not take it. He said he was the Sigurdsson’s man now, and true man he would be!” “Harold offered him?--what art babbling about? Who fought you?” “Harold Godwinsson, the king.” “Where?” “At Stanford Brigg, by York Town.” “Harold Godwinsson slew Harold Sigurdsson? After this wolves may eat lions!” “The Godwinsson is a gallant fighter, and a wise general, or I had not been here now.” “Get on thy horse, man!” said he, scornfully and impatiently, “and gallop, if thou canst.” “I have ridden many a mile in Ireland, Earl, and have not forgotten my seat.” “Thou hast, hast thou?” said Martin; “thou art Thord Gunlaugsson of Waterford.” “That am I. How knowest thou me, man?” “I am of Waterford. Thou hadst a slave lass once, I think; Mew: they called her Mew, her skin it was so white.” “What’s that to thee?” asked Thord, turning on him savagely. “Why, I meant no harm. I saw her at Waterford when I was a boy, and thought her a fair lass enough, that is all.” And Martin dropped into the rear. By this time they were at the gates of St. Omer. As they rode side by side, Hereward got more details of the fight. “I knew it would fall out so. I foretold it!” said Thord. “I had a dream. I saw us come to English land, and fight; and I saw the banners floating. And before the English army was a great witchwife, and rode upon a wolf, and he had a corpse in his bloody jaws. And when he had eaten one up, she threw him another, till he had swallowed all.” “Did she throw him thine?” asked Martin, who ran holding by the stirrup. “That did she, and eaten I saw myself. Yet here I am alive.” “Then thy dreams were naught.” “I do not know that. The wolf may have me yet.” “I fear thou art fey.” [Footnote: Prophesying his own death.] “What the devil is it to thee if I be?” “Naught. But be comforted. I am a necromancer; and this I know by my art, that the weapon that will slay thee was never forged in Flanders here.”