"You both shall die," cried Lionel, furiously. "You shall pay the penalty of your meddling, and he of his treason."
Hearing this, Bors rose with aching limbs, and painfully put on his helm. Colgrevance again called to him in anguish,—
"Help me, Bors! I can stand no longer. Will you let me die without lifting your hand?"
At this moment Lionel smote the helm from his head, and then with another fierce blow stretched him dead and bleeding upon the earth.
This murderous deed done, he ran on Bors with the passion of a fiend, and dealt him a blow that made him stoop.
"For God's love leave me!" cried Bors. "If I slay you or you me, we will both be dead of that sin."
"May God never help me if I take mercy on you, if I have the better hand," cried Lionel, in reply.
Then Bors drew his sword, though his eyes were wet with tears.
"Fair brother," he said, "God knows my heart. You have done evil enough this day, in slaying a holy priest and one of our own brotherhood of knights. I fear you not, but I dread the wrath of God, for this is an unnatural battle which you force upon me. May God have mercy upon me, since I must defend my life against my brother."
Saying this, Bors raised his sword and advanced upon Lionel, who stood before him with the wrath of a fury.