the two monoliths to fall upon the
great Cromlech that was redder still with human gore. A wave of nausea
swept up from Gaar's stomach. He fought it down.

Then the strength filtered out of him as he was carried into the
circle. Now he was a child in their hands. He felt himself being
lifted, felt his back touch the slippery stone. Beside him Marna was
laid, the black robe she had worn ripped from her body.

Cyngled's chant rose above them, the knife came up and hovered at
Gaar's throat. The knife was coming down. And then it stopped! It
stopped as the air was split by the battle cry of the Norsemen!

* * * * *

Gaar twisted his head and saw them come out of the woods beyond the
circle. Like madmen they raged across the clearing. But nobody rushed
to oppose them! Instead, the Druid priests drew back, gathered about
Cyngled. As the Norsemen came into the circle the high priest's hands
drew the magic symbols in the air.

And the Norsemen stopped! Like men of stone they were, a tableau of
arrested motion.

There was no hope. The bitterness of gall was in Gaar's mouth as he
turned his head from the scene. He looked at Marna. Her eyes were
bright, burning into his own. No hopelessness there. Her eyes were
speaking to him.

They were willing him, willing him to strength! Gaar felt it come back
to him. Her magic was stronger than she knew. He felt the strength
come back in a surge that would not be denied.

This was only leather that held him. The leather could bite into his
flesh as he strained. But it could not hurt him. His great chest
filled with air and the thongs gave, stretched. And burst!

In a single leap he was off the altar. He wanted to rage into the
Druid priests, to tear them apart with his bare hands. But there were
too many. And Marna's will was telling him that there was something
else he must do.

He knew what it was. He had to strike at the source of their power.
They were turning to meet his charge, setting themselves solidly.

Gaar wheeled, spurted around them and then around the Cromlech. They
guessed his purpose and leaped to stop him. They had to prevent him
from reaching the two great stones. Gaar battered them aside and went
through them.

His back was against one of the monoliths, his feet against the other.
He climbed that way, ignoring the knives that slashed at his back.
Then he was above the reach of their arms. The sun was full in his
face. His shad