Part 54

Sir Owen thrust at the troll with his lance; but the moundman seized it below the point of steel, and so strong was he, that though Sir Owen drew him down from the top of the hillock, he could not loose it from the little man's hold.

Meanwhile, the troll was beating at Sir Owen with the staff of iron, which, for all its weight and size, he wielded as if it was no more than a stout cudgel. And hard bestead was Sir Owen to shield himself from the smashing blows which rained upon him. At the seventh blow his shield was cracked across and his shield arm was numbed.

Suddenly he dashed his horse forward, and the little man, still holding the lance, was thrown backward upon the grassy slope of his own mound. Swiftly Sir Owen leaped from his horse and drew his sword, and while the troll was rising he dashed at him and wounded him.

But next moment the troll was up, his dark narrow face terrible with rage, for the blood ran down the deer-skin tunic which half covered him. And then the blows of his iron rod came thicker and faster, while he moved so swiftly round about the knight that Sir Owen, though he thrust quickly and fiercely, could not strike him again.

Sir Owen was becoming dizzy and weak, and felt that not for long now could he bear up his dented and broken shield against the blows that must at length smash his arm.

Suddenly the quick movements of the little troll ceased, and he staggered. Then he dropped the iron bar and swayed like a drunken man towards the knight. He fell on his knees before Sir Owen, put his head upon the ground, and clutched the knight's steel-clad foot as if to put it upon his neck. But he could do no more, and so lay panting and spent with exhaustion.

And Sir Owen could not find it in himself to pierce him through with his sword, for the troll's subjection made pity come into his heart.

'Ah, sir troll!' said the knight, panting also, and very fain to rest. 'A brave troll thou art, seeing thou hast used no magic, but hath fought me like a very man.'

'Chieftain,' gasped the troll, 'my heart is like to break, for thou hast tried me sore. Never yet hath a knight that sought the fountain withstood my rod as valiantly as thou hast, and thou hast put my strength all to naught.'

'But I know not why thou didst try to slay me,' said Sir Owen, 'seeing that I did but ask thee to show me my way to the fountain.'

'I am the slave of him that overcometh me,' answered the troll, 'and I must do his bidding. Sir Dewin did conquer me by evil wizardry, and he sent thee to me with the three knocks on my door, whereby I knew he commanded me to slay thee.'

'Well, and what wilt thou do now, valiant troll?'

'I must hide me from the wrath of Sir Dewin,' said the troll, 'until my sore wound is healed. Then will I be thy slave, sir knight, and help thee in whatever adventure thou mayst wish!'

'Get thee gone, then, good troll,' said Sir Owen, with a smile. 'But first tell me my way to the fountain.'

Whereupon the troll showed him the way and gave him certain directions, and then said:

'Chieftain, thou wilt conquer in all thy fighting, and great honour and reward shall be thine. But beware thee of leaving the side of her that shall love thee, for more than a night and a day, or long woe shall find thee. And do thou take this, for it may find thee friends.'

And the troll, whose name was Decet, held towards him a blue stone upon a silver string. The stone burned with the dazzling blue of the lightning flash, when the light caught it.

Sir Owen thanked him, put the string about his neck, and stood watching the troll as he limped, faint and wounded, into the mound that was his home.

Then, picking up his lance, Sir Owen mounted his horse, and rode forward through the wood, thinking of this strange adventure.

When he reached the fountain where a silver cup hung by a silver chain, he filled the cup with water, as the troll had bidden him, and threw it over a pillar of stone that was set beside the fountain. And instantly there came a clap of thunder as if the earth would dash asunder, and after the thunder came the shower, and so fierce and heavy were the hailstones that they would surely have slain horse and rider, but that Sir Owen, as the troll had bidden him, had put his horse's forefeet in the fountain, and kept his own hand therein, whereby the hailstones became thin rain before they touched him.

Then the sky became bright, and the flock of birds descended on the tree and began to sing. But Sir Owen heeded them not, but mounted his horse, dressed his shield and lance, and prepared for the combat.

There came a mourning cry through the wood, and a sky-blue knight on a high-stepping destrier dashed through the trees towards Sir Owen, and came against him, lance in rest. Whereupon Sir Owen put spurs to his horse, and furiously rode against the knight. At the first onset each broke his lance; whereat they drew their swords and lashed at each other most fiercely.

Sir Owen feinted, and then, quickly recovering, he smote the other so hard and stern a blow that the blade bit through headpiece, skin and bone, until it wounded the brain itself.

Then, with a great cry, the blue knight wheeled his horse and fled, with Sir Owen in pursuit. But the other knight's horse was fleeter, and Sir Owen could not overtake him, though he kept within a few yards.

In a little while a great castle, resplendent with new stone, shone before them. The wounded knight thundered across the drawbridge, with Owen close behind him; but when the blue knight gained the street beyond, the portcullis was let fall with a rush. Sir Owen fell from his horse, and looking round he found that the horse had been cut in twain by the gate.

So that Sir Owen found himself, with the forepart of the dead horse, in a prison between the two gates, while the hinder part of the horse was outside. And Sir Owen saw that his death must be very near, for already he saw one of the soldiers who were guarding the gate run after the knight to the castle, as if for orders to slay him.

Looking through the inner gate, he saw a narrow street facing him, with booths and little houses on each side; and coming towards him he beheld a maiden, small but beautiful, with black curling hair and a circlet of gold upon her forehead; and she was of high rank, for she wore a dress of yellow satin, and on her feet were shoes of speckled leather.

She stopped when but a few steps from the gate where the soldiers stood watching Sir Owen; and he saw that her eyes were bent fixedly upon the blue stone which lay on the knight's breast. And he saw that, in the darkness of his prison, it shone with a fierce blue flame.