Conachúr moved to that direction.
“Quick, quick,” he said, twitching his father’s mantle in his impatience. “They will escape me.”
“They shall not escape me,” Cathfa answered. “There is no need for haste.”
They were out, indeed, and, like two grim lions or woeful griffins of the air, Naoise and Ainnle were raging in that press. Into their interval leaped Ardan, with but one eye peeping from the shield and a deadly hand thrusting from the rim. Back and forth they leaped with resistless savagery. Men flew at them and from them. Everywhere was a wild yelling of orders and the wilder screaming of stricken men. But, over all, Naoise’s voice came pealing—
“Up, Deirdre. Run!”
She was at his back in an instant, the shield covering her side; her spear darted viciously by his right elbow, and a venturesome man dropped squealing. Five feet behind, Ardan was leaping like a cat, all eyes and points, and ten paces behind him Ainnle was bounding.
“Halt,” roared Naoise.
Deirdre was again on the ground. Ardan ranged tigerishly to right and left, while Ainnle whirled on the pursuers in ten-foot bounds.