dozen Danes from out of the country, axe and sword in hand, driving
them back on the main line of the vikings, and then the fight
seemed to end as suddenly as it began. Two or three horses went
riderless homeward, and that was how Dorchester learned that
Beaduheard the sheriff had met his end.

The Danes fell back into their places, one or two with wounds on
them; and Thorleif rose up from the ground, shaking his armour into
place, and looking round him on those who lay there. They were all
Saxons. Not one had escaped.

"Pick up the sheriff," he said to some of his men. "I never saw a
braver fool. Maybe he is not hurt."

But, however he died, Beaduheard never moved again. Some of the
Danes said that a horse must have kicked him; Thorleif had never
drawn weapon.

"Pity," said Thorleif. "He was somewhat of a Berserk; but he
brought it on himself."

Which was true enough, and we knew it. Neither Elfric nor I had a
word to say to each other. The whole fight had sprung up and was
over almost before we knew what was happening.

Then the Danes mounted the horses of the men who had fallen, caught
the others they had turned loose on the alarm, and were off on
their errands without delay. The ranks fell out, and went back to
their work as if nothing had happened, and the wharf buzzed with
peaceful-seeming noise again.