Axe and sword clashed together for a
moment of time, and then both the men rolled over on the grass
together, and Face-of-god as he fell deemed that he heard the shrill
cry of a woman. Now Face-of-god found that he was the nethermost,
for if he was strong, yet was his foe stronger; the axe had flown out
of his hand also, while the strange man still kept a hold of his
short-sword; and presently, though he still struggled all he could,
he saw the man draw back his hand to smite with the said sword; and
at that nick of time the foeman's knee was on his breast, his left
hand was doubled back behind him, and his right wrist was gripped
hard in the stranger's left hand. Even therewith his ears, sharpened
by the coming death, heard the sound of footsteps and fluttering
raiment drawing near; something dark came between him and the sky;
there was the sound of a great stroke, and the big man loosened his
grip and fell off him to one side.
Face-of-god leapt up and ran to his axe and got hold of it; but
turning round found himself face to face with a tall woman holding in
her hand a stout staff like the limb of a tree.
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