Johnston McCulley

“ The old witch was beside him now, bending forward. "Look, jarl! You love a maid, but she soon will be in peril. You must fight to protect her. Look again, jarl! There is blood in the air. There is strife abroad. Before the night is over, men will die. Your own life is threatened, and that of the maid you love."
Edvard Haakonsson gave a cry and covered his eyes with his arm. Whether he saw it or not, he believed that he did. He bent forward again and looked at the foaming stuff in the pot. ”

“ Thyra said. "My nurse can look into the future. She has looked this day. She says that your love is good—but that there is danger near."
"Danger?" he repeated.
"Grave danger, from her manner. She told me that blood will flow. I asked her whether the danger was to you, but she could not tell."
"Do not let her words trouble you."
"But they do, Edvard, and I cannot help it. I fear for you so. Attend, beloved! Near the house lives a witch, an old hag who has the gift, men say. I—I cannot believe in such things, yet she has some wonderful power. ”

“ Edvard the Ax Thrower found the end of the forest trail and made his way along it rapidly. It was no more than a leafy tunnel, the bottom worn smooth by the feet of thralls. Soon he was in the stillness of the deep woods, where there was naught to be heard save the whispering of the wind through the trees and sounds from forest life. ”