She was sitting on a low stool beside Ethne of the Raven Hair; with the old hound, Gelert, stretched at her feet. The creature scarcely left her side--night or day. He had never wavered in his devotion to her since the day she had saved his life. And just as much as he loved Elgiva, he detested Ethne; and though at Elgiva’s command he would try and curb his hatred, he would burst out into a low snarl if, by chance, Ethne touched him, or her draperies passed over him. Elgiva tried hard to break him of this habit and to teach him to love Ethne--but without avail; nor was he to be gained over by any advances that Ethne would make to him. The affection between the two women seemed to increase each day; Ethne now professed Christianity, and declared she owed her conversion to Elgiva. Cormac’s suspicions against Ethne had vanished; he took her advice on all points. It was upon her suggestion that he had chosen the Severn Valley as a camping-ground. During the campaign Elgiva, with her more sober judgment, had opposed the descent into the plains. Nor could she see that it aided their plans--for Redwald and his men, it was believed, lay further to the south and the west. She pointed gravely to the hills beyond. “Forests and mountains stretch between us and our refuge,” she said. “We have crossed the barrier that earth herself has built between us and our enemies.” “Fair mother-earth helped us in our need with hill and forest,” said Cormac. “Then were we the vanquished, now are we the victors. Is not Cutha slain and Ceawlin loathed and detested by the Saxons themselves?” He was smiling and triumphant, as his eye swept the scene of the river-banks before him--the motley array of Kymry, who owned him for their leader. British legions, still manifesting the polish and discipline of Rome, woad-dyed savages, blue on the russet landscape; bands of Hibernian Fili--their sleek race-horses, slight and frail, beside the stout cavalry of the Romanised Brets; Picts from boundless Caledonia--the swing of their sheep-skin garments never ceasing in their restless masses; and warriors also from weems and caves with arrows tipped with stone, or bearing leaf-shaped swords as in days of old. Near at hand were workers inspecting and repairing the scythe-edged chariots of early days--ever the pride and stay of the Britons. From peak and wind-swept down came the hum and shriek of bagpipes. Above all, great swarms of kites hovered in the air--for the hosts of the great army yielded rich store for nest and maw.