from death--she held out the naked body of her son as a warrior holds
a shield. The arrow struck through and through it, piercing the tender
flesh, aye, and pricked her breast beyond, so that she let the dead boy
fall.

The Wanderer saw it and wondered at the horror of the deed, for he had
seen no such deed in all his days. Then shouting aloud the terrible
war-cry of the Achæans he leapt upon the board before him, and as he
leapt his golden armour clanged.

Glancing around, he fixed an arrow to the string and drew to his ear
that great bow which none but he might so much as bend. Then as he
loosed, the string sang like a swallow, and the shaft screamed through
the air. Down the glorious hall it sped, and full on the breast of him
who had lifted bow against the Queen the bitter arrow struck, nor might
his harness avail to stay it. Through the body of him it passed and with
blood-red feathers flew on, and smote another who stood behind him so
that his knees also were loosened, and together they fell dead upon the
floor.

Now while the people stared and wondered, again the bowstring sang like
a swallow, again the arrow screamed in its flight, and he who stood
before it got his death, for the shield he bore was pinned to his
breast.

Then wonder turned to rage; the multitude rolled forward, and from
either side the air grew dark with arrows. For the Guards at the
sight of the shooting of the Wanderer found heart and fought well and
manfully. Boldly also the slayers came on, and behind them pressed many
a hundred men. The Wanderer's golden helm flashed steadily, a beacon in