Three Knights Versus the City of London
“The fighting was so fierce that the gutters of every street ran with blood. So many men lay dead that the waters of the Thames turned the colour of blood.” […]
“The fighting was so fierce that the gutters of every street ran with blood. So many men lay dead that the waters of the Thames turned the colour of blood.” […]
“A warm, foamy stream of Danish blood, squeezed from their veins, gathers in waves to form broad lakes, an inundation which rolls the scattered corpses.” […]
“Grettir swung his short-sword at Hjalti Thordarson’s follower Vikar, striking him on the left shoulder as he jumped down into the hut and cutting right through his shoulders and down his right side. The man was chopped clean in half and his body fell on top of Grettir in two pieces.” […]
“They have trained their horses so well that they wheel this way or that as quickly as a dog would do. When they are pursued and take to flight, they fight as well and as effectively as when they are face to face with the enemy.” […]
“When Rothari found out that he was detected, he straightway leaped backwards and unsheathed his sword to strike the king. On the other hand the king drew forth his own sword from his scabbard.” […]
“He made worthy widows wail with sorrow,
Weeping and howling they wrung their hands.
And everywhere in his wake he wasted through war
Their wealth and their houses, and awoke their woe.” […]
“They bore harps and were clad in snowy robes, and chanted in suppliant strains to the gods of their fathers that they might be propitious and repel the Macedonians.” […]
“The sword that he bore cut armor and helmets as easily as birch bark, and did not spare the bones or flesh of men.” […]
“he archers came forth, and touched land the foremost; each with his bow bent, and his quiver full of arrows slung at his side. All were shaven and shorn, and all clad in short garments, ready to attack, to shoot, to wheel about and skirmish. All stood well equipped, and of good courage for the fight.” […]
“Then he rode into the host, hacking through helmets,
Riving off rivets and ripping through shields,
Causing carnage in the ranks but keeping his course,
Rampaging through the rearguard and riding onward,
Then reigning back, that right royal battler,
And returning to the ranks of his own Round Table.” […]
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