Though so many had been slain in the battles
of the southern bents, yet was the Market-stead full of them, so to
say, for others had come thereto in place of those that had fallen.
But now as he looked arose mighty clamour amongst them; and a little
west of the Altar was a stir and a hurrying onward and around as in
the eddies of a swift stream. Face-of-god wotted not what was
betiding there, but he deemed that they were now ware of the onfall
of Folk-might and Hall-face and the men of Burgdale, for their faces
were all turned to where that was to be looked for.
So he turned and looked on the road to the east of him, where had
been the battle of the Steer, but now it was all gone down toward the
Market-place, and he could but hear the clamour of it; but nought he
saw thereof, because of the houses that hid it.
Then he cast his eyes on the road that entered the Market-stead from
the north, and he saw thereon many men gathered; and he wotted not
what they were; for though there were weapons amongst them, yet were
they not all weaponed, as far as he could see.
Now as he looked this way and that, and deemed that he must tarry no
longer, but must enter into the courts of the houses before him and
make his way into the Market-stead, lo! a change in the throng of
Dusky Warriors nigh the Mote-house, and the ordered bands about the
Altar fell to drifting toward the western way with one accord, with
great noise and hurry and fierce cries of wrath.
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