THE KING OF ELFLAND’S DAUGHTER
must have flown by broom to Elfland and spoken secretly alone with the King.
And the sword that had visited Earth from so far away smote like the falling of thunderbolts; and green sparks rose from the armour, and crimson as sword met sword; and thick elvish blood moved slowly, from wide slits, down the cuirass; and Lirazel gazed in awe and wonder and love; and the combatants edged away fighting into the forest; and branches fell on them hacked off by their fight; and the runes in Alveric’s far-travelled sword exulted, and roared at the elf-knight; until in the dark of the wood, amongst branches severed from disenchanted trees, with a blow like that of a thunderbolt riving an oak-tree, Alveric slew him.
At that crash, and at that silence, Lirazel ran to his side.
“Quick!” she said. “For my father has three runes . . .” She durst not speak of them.
“Whither?” said Alveric.
And she said: “To the fields you know.”
