Page:Stories from Old English Poetry-1899.djvu/85

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THE STORY OF CANDACE.
63


Like two clouds charged with black thunder-bolts, they meet each other, and are merged in dire conflict. Blow rang on blow, blood stained the fair sand, weapons were broken and thrown aside, and yet without stay, the battle waged, and each combatant seemed untiring and incapable of defeat. Already the sun stood in the centre of the heavens, and Candace had begun to fear for her brother’s safety, in spite of the charmed weapon which he bore, and begged that the fight might cease.

As the noontide waned, sounds of surprise and admiration were heard to arise from the assembled spectators, and the crowd shrank away to either side. Through the parting multitude drove a silver chariot, drawn by four tawny lions, who moved obedient to the reins. In the chariot stood a lady, dazzlingly beautiful, who bore in one hand a wand twined with an olive wreath, and in the other a cup filled with a rare liquid called nepenthe, which none but brave warriors are able to quaff.

This lady was in truth the fairy Cambina, the sister of Triamond, who, despairing of the issue of the fight, had come to make peace between them.

When she reached the side of the two combatants, Cambina waved her olive-clad wand, and at once their arms fell powerless, and their swords