"I go--for your sake," growled the old count, and his sword circled about his grisly head.
"We go in peace," said the Wend woman. She flung the cloak from her head, and glided, with upraised hand, between her lord and the threatening Thuringians. "Make way, heroes! Bear in mind your pledge to me."
"Stand aside, Wend-wife!" commanded the foremost guest.
"Make way yourself, dog! I see a bloody sprite beside you."
The Thuringian flung up his arm to ward off the woman's evil glance. "That for your boding, witch!" he cried, and she fell to his stabbing sword. The frightened weasels scurried, squeaking, from the cloak of their mistress, to hide beneath the table. Upon the slain witch fell the body of her slayer, struck down by Rudulf.
About the two friends the grey-armored Thuringians closed fast in the doom-ring. Fierce blows rained down,--blade rang upon blade or clashed against war-gear. Within the ring, the two, standing back to back, fought their way steadily toward the door. The Thuringians could not withstand the mad rage of Rudulf's attack or Olvir's cold white fury. They fell back continually before the counts; but, from side and rear, they thrust and struck as at maddened wolves.
Now and again one of their number fell to Al-hatif's stabs or the fierce downsweep of the Grey Wolf's sword. In turn, their blades beat like flails upon the doomed men. Not even Olvir's triple mail was proof against their blows. Soon blood was seeping through the netted rings. Only the blue steel of his helmet saved his head from a splitting; Al-hatif was far too light to ward off the heavy longswords. Already Rudulf was bleeding from many gashes; his head was a mass of wounds. Still he fought on like a mad beast. He fell at the very threshold of the open door, pierced through by Hardrat's boar-spear.
At the death-cry of the hero, Olvir sprang about, and his sword clipped the point of the thrusting lance. Hardrat shrank back to draw his sword. The Northman leaped through the doorway, calling loudly in Arabic.
Across the courtyard Zora came plunging to meet her master, and her hoof struck down the groom who sought to hold her. Olvir vaulted into the saddle; he bent forward on the mare's neck, and a sharp hiss burst from his lips. Zora leaped away like an arrow. The fierce Thuringians, bursting out from the hall, called upon the grooms to close the gate. But before the nearest man could act, the red mare and her terrible rider were upon him. He flung himself flat before them, and Zora leaped over the man, out upon the open hillside.
CHAPTER XXI