Hereward had, to his own surprise and that of his fellows, met his match.
The sparks flew, the iron clanged; but so heavy were the stranger's
strokes, that Hereward reeled again and again. So sure was the guard of
his shield, that Hereward could not wound him, hit where he would. At last
he dealt a furious blow on the stranger's head.
"If that does not bring your master down!" quoth Geri. "By--, Brain-biter
is gone!"
It was too true. Sword Brain-biter's end was come. The Ogre's magic blade
had snapt off short by the handle.
"Your master is a true Englishman, by the hardness of his brains," quoth
Wenoch, as the stranger, reeling for a moment, lifted up his head, and
stared at Hereward in the face, doubtful what to do.
"Will you yield, or fight on?" cried he.
"Yield?" shouted Hereward, rushing upon him, as a mastiff might on a lion,
and striking at his helm, though shorter than him by a head and shoulders,
such swift and terrible blows with the broken hilt, as staggered the tall
stranger.
"What are you at, forgetting what you have at your side?" roared Geri.
Hereward sprang back. He had, as was his custom, a second sword on his
right thigh.
"I forget everything now," said he to himself angrily.
And that was too true. But he drew the second sword, and sprang at his man
once more.
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