Page:The Sundering Flood - Morris - 1898.djvu/273

the wind, and Board-cleaver was bare and bloody in his fist, and his face was stern but not exceeding fierce; for he would the slaughter of the day were over. Now he hove up Board-cleaver, and before him was a tall man in gilded armour and a gay yellow surcoat of silk, and his armour was little rent and his sword unscathed in his hand; a stark man he was of aspect, but terror was come into his soul because of the slaughter and the press and that there was no escape therefrom. So when he saw Board-cleaver arising he cried out: O Red Lad, Red Lad, O thou seeker, let me live, that I may tell thee what thou wouldst give many lives to know! Then Osberne restrained Board-cleaver and let him fall to his wrist, and stretched out his hand to the gilded man. But even therewith his hand was thrust aside, for many a man there was mad and drunk with the slaying: and a short, dark, long-armed man of the weavers' craft, armed with nought else save a heavy sword cutting on the inner edge, drew him on to the gilded man's horse, and brought his short sword back-handed across his face and neck, and fell with him as he fell, and mangled him that he was more than dead, and then got up again amidst the horses and fell to work again. Then Osberne, when he saw the tale was done, groaned aloud; but none heeded him, for it was to them but as a cry of the wounded. Then he uphove Board-cleaver again and cried out shrilly: The Red Lad, the Red Lad for Longshaw and the Crafts! On, on at them! And that all