Johnston McCulley

“ It was enough for Eric that he had seen Svend raise blade against Edvard Haakonsson. But there was more than that. Far back in his memory Eric had a flash of a scene in Svend's own house, when the Bloody One had slain a thrall with a single blow of his fist.
Eric raised the blade he held. Backward he sprang, and then launched himself forward. He had no method of fighting, but he had great strength. More through good fortune than skill did he avoid Svend's biting blade. And his own swept through the arc—and Svend the Bloody died! ”

“ Eric, who had been commanded by Edvard Haakonsson to let none up the steps and through the door.
Magnus whirled his blade and advanced, and Eric met him squarely. And thus they fought on the landing, while Edvard the Ax Thrower, watching from a little distance, struggled to get to the scene. Magnus, he believed, meant danger to Thyra.
Never before in his life had Svend's big lieutenant been so surprised as he was now. He faced a maniac who had no skill with the blade, but who had great strength and determination. ”

“ With the men from the woods in the place, the forces were about equal.
But Harald's men were fighting on territory they knew well, and their cause was just. They rallied to their chieftain's call and smote their enemies. Man after man went down before them. Svend the Bloody called a rally in vain.
Edvard Haakonsson attempted to avoid slaying, since he did not wish to cut down one of the house of Harald, nor a man of his uncle's. But soon he found that he could not. They pressed him into a corner, and he won free with Eric. He saw Magnus fighting to get near him, and realized the man's intent. ”

“ If he could force his way up those steps perhaps he could manage to break into the room, he thought. There he could barricade himself, possibly escape, possibly even find the jarl's daughter and hold her as hostage for his own freedom after the fight. ”