But Face-of-god swept round the great sword and plunged into that sea
of turmoil and noise and evil sights and savours, and even therewith
he heard clearly a voice that said: 'Goldring, I am hurt; take my
bow a while!' and knew it for Bow-may's; but it came to his ears like
the song of a bird without meaning; for it was as if his life were
changed at once; and in a minute or two he had cut thrice with the
edge and thrust twice with the point, eager, but clear-eyed and deft;
and he saw as in a picture the foe before him, and the grey roofs of
Silver-stead, and through the gap in them the tops of the blue ridges
far aloof. And now had three fallen before him, and they feared him,
and turned on him, and smote so many together that their strokes
crossed each other, and one warded him from the other; and he laughed
aloud and shielded himself, and drave the point of Dale-warden amidst
the tangle of weapons through the open mouth of a captain of the
Felons, and slashed a cheek with a back-stroke, and swept round the
edge to his right hand and smote off a blue-eyed snub-nosed head; and
therewith a pole-axe smote him on the left side of his helm, so that
he tottered; but he swung himself round, and stood stark and upright,
and gave a short hack with the edge, keeping Dale-warden well in
hand, and a gold-clad felon, a champion of them, and their tallest on
the ground, fell aback, his throat gaping more than the mouth of him.
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