Then, turning to the trembling girl, he whispered:
“Fear not, Ineld, I come quickly. Ere another hour is passed the war-song of Lewin will echo through the hills.”
Then he was gone.
An hour later Alman stood on the rampart of Mouselow, and gazed in the direction of Melandra. The warrior by his side pointed to a dancing light which played upon the distant fields and seemed to move on Mouselow. It was the sunlight reflected from a host of shields and spears.
PREHISTORIC SPEAR HEAD FOUND NEAR MOUSELOW CASTLE
“They come, my lord,” said he. And Alman answered:
“This Lewin keeps his word. The fight will be such as a soldier loves. Now get to your arms.”
The Prince of Mouselow watched the approach of the foe with gladness. Rude and tyrannous though he might be, he was yet a brave man, and asked for nothing better than a worthy foe and a fair field. It mattered little to him if death came in the conflict. His fathers had all died fighting, and he, too, longed to die in the thick of the fray. He loved fighting for fighting’s sake, and in the lust for the conflict he even forgot the fair Ineld—the prize for which he fought. Placing himself at the head of his men, he led them out of the fort, and soon the two forces were in touch with each other. The Prince of Melandra was at the head of his own troops, and as the two armies closed he gave forth his war shout and called upon his men to charge. The warriors clashed their axes and shields together, and cried aloud:
“Lewin we will follow thee to death. Lead on!”