So the King’s falconer brought the haggard and the King took her on his fist. A black eagle she was, red-beaked and glorious to look on. Her jesses were of red leather with little silver varvels whereon the crab of Witchland was engraved in small. Her hood was of red leather tasselled with silver. First she bated from the fist of the King, screaming and flapping her wings, but soon was quiet. And the King rode forth, sending his great brindled hounds before him to put up the boar; and all his company followed after. In no long time they roused the boar, that turned red-eyed and moody-mad on the King’s hounds, and charged among them ripping up the foremost so that her bowels gushed out. The King unhooded his eagle and flew her off his fist. But she, wild and ungentle, fastened not upon the boar but on a hound that held him by the ear. She fixed her cruel claws in the hound’s neck and picked his eyes out ere a man might speak two curses on her. Gro, that was by the King, muttered, “O, I like not that. ’Tis ominous.” By then was the King ridden up, and thrust the boar through with his spear, piercing him above and a little behind the shoulder so that the blade went through the heart of him and he sank down dying in his blood. Then the King smote his eagle in his wrath with the butt of his spear-shaft, but smote her lightly and with a glancing blow, and away she flew and was lost to sight. And the King was angry, for all that the boar was slain, for the loss of his hound and his haggard, and for her ill behaviour. So he bade his huntsmen skin the boar and bring home his skin to be a trophy, and so turned homeward. After a while the King called to him the Lord Gro to ride forward a little with him and out of earshot of the rest. The King said to him, “Thou hast a discontented look. Is it that I send not Corund into Demonland to crown the work he began at Eshgrar Ogo? Thou babblest besides of omens.” Gro answered, “My Lord the King, pardon my fears. For omens, indeed ’tis oft as the saw sayeth, ‘As the fool thinketh, so the bell clinketh.’ I spake in haste. Who shall weep Fate from her determined purpose? But since you did name Corund’s name——” “I named him,” said the King, “because I am still ringing in the ears with women’s talk. Whereto also I doubt not thou art privy.” “Only so much,” answered he, “that this is my thought: he were our best, O King.” “Haply so,” said the King. “But wouldst have me therefore hold my stroke in the air while occasion knocketh at the gate? I’ll tell thee, I am potent in art magical, but scarce may I stay time’s wing the while I fetch Corund out of Impland and pack him westaway.” Gro held his peace. “Well,” said the King, “I will hear more from thee.” “Lord,” he answered, “I like not Corsus.”