He was not afraid; but the deadly silence, the wan light of the
moon, the piercing cold, his lonely situation upon that shining stretch
of ice, and his knowledge that he would soon be engaged in a mortal
combat, whose results must determine so much for himself and for his
people, oppressed his mind very strangely; nor could he dismiss from his
thoughts the surprising things that he had heard that day concerning
Aasta the Fair.
Suddenly, as he looked before him towards the shore that he was
approaching, he was startled at seeing a black shadow upon the ice. It
was as though some human being were lying there. He saw the figure move.
Slowly, stealthily it crept towards him. Kenric stood still, taking off
his fur gauntlets and putting his hand to his sword. Then the figure
crept more rapidly. Nearer and yet nearer it came. He saw now that it
was a large animal. Its glistening eyes and long legs showed that it was
a wolf.
He drew his sword and went to meet it. The wolf growled as in hungry
anger, and crouched down as though preparing to spring upon him. Kenric
raised his sword to strike, the wolf bounded forward, and as his weapon
was about to descend upon its head the animal swerved. The moon's light
revealed a white patch of hair upon its breast.
Kenric staggered backward, unwilling now to strike.
"Aasta!" he cried.
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