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Giving him no time to recover, he made a sweeping cut at Gunrig's neck, which, had it fallen, would have shorn his head from his shoulders, but the chief, instead of guarding it, suddenly stooped, and, as the sword passed whistling above him, returned with a thrust so fierce that it pierced right through the thick shield opposed to it.
Gunrig's brows contracted, and a grim smile played on his lips as he replied, after a brief pause "Well, I am not quite sure, mother. It may be that she is not too fond of me which only shows her want of taste. But that can be cured when she finds out what a fine man I am! Anyhow, I will have her, if I should have to hunt the forest for a hundred moons, and fight all the tribes put together."
Rub him well down; feed him. I shall know if you don't!" she cried, as she entered the passage and knocked gently at the door. It was opened by Gunrig's mother, whose swollen eyes and subdued voice told their own tale. "May I come in and see him, mother?" said Branwen, in her own soft voice. "You are a strange visitor," said the poor woman, in some surprise. "Do you want much to see him?
He pointed to a distant ridge, over the brow of which the head of Gunrig's column of men was just appearing. "He is a scout!" exclaimed Maikar. "Ay, and you may be sure that an enemy is not far off ahead of our column unless, perchance, he may be the scout of some tribe friendly to the king. Hold your hand, Maikar. You are ever too ready to fight.
He dwelt with his mother Ortrud to the end of her days in a small house not far from the residence of Konar. Gunrig's mother also dwelt with them not that she had any particular regard for them personally, but in order that she might be near to the beautiful girl who had been beloved by her son. Gadarn, the great northern chief, ever afterwards paid an annual visit to Swamptown.
There was a commanding tone in her shrill voice that brooked no delay. The lumpish lad shut his mouth, reduced his eyes, and, going shyly forward, held out his hand. The old woman seized it, and, almost before he had time to wink, stood beside him. "Where is Gunrig's room?" she demanded. All the observers pointed to a door at the end of a passage. "Take good care of my horse!
But Gunrig seized it again and hurled it a foot beyond that. "Well done," said the king. "Go on. It is the best in three heaves that wins." Bladud grasped the stone and hurled it back over his head with all his force. Up and up it went as if it had resolved to become an aerolite and visit the moon! Then down it came with a mighty thud ten yards beyond Gunrig's mark.
"Your father, I know, will consent to Gunrig's wishes. If he did not, there would be war again horrible war between the tribes. I will never be the cause of that if I can help it. At the same time, it would kill me to wed with Gunrig. I would rather die than that; therefore I will run away." "And leave me?" exclaimed the princess anxiously.
There was one thing, however, which threw a cloud over the rejoicing with which the conquerors hailed this memorable victory. Gunrig's wound turned out to be a very severe one much more so than had been at first supposed for the arrow had penetrated one of his lungs, and, breaking off, had left the head in it.
An ordinary sword would have been snapped, but Gunrig's weapon was a big bronze one that had done service in many a fray, and its owner's hand was strong. He held it fast, but before he could withdraw it and recover himself Bladud cut him fair over the head.
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