Sir Richard (they noticed he limped a little) unslung his great sword.

'That's it,' Dan whispered to Una.

'This is the sword that Brother Hugh had from Wayland-Smith,' Sir
Richard said. 'Once he gave it me, but I would not take it; but at the
last it became mine after such a fight as never christened man fought.
See!' He half drew it from its sheath and turned it before them. On
either side just below the handle, where the Runic letters shivered as
though they were alive, were two deep gouges in the dull, deadly steel.
'Now, what Thing made those?' said he. 'I know not, but you, perhaps,
can say.'

'Tell them all the tale, Sir Richard,' said Puck. 'It concerns their
land somewhat.'

'Yes, from the very beginning,' Una pleaded, for the knight's good face
and the smile on it more than ever reminded her of 'Sir Isumbras at the
Ford'.

They settled down to listen, Sir Richard bare-headed to the sunshine,
dandling the sword in both hands, while the grey horse cropped outside
the Ring, and the helmet on the saddle-bow clinged softly each time he
jerked his head.

'From the beginning, then,' Sir Richard said, 'since it concerns your
land, I will tell the tale. When our Duke came out of Normandy to take
his England, great knights (have ye heard?) came and strove hard to
serve the Duke, because he promised them lands here, and small knights
followed the great ones. My folk in Normandy were poor; but a great