“Cool waves rolled over him, shutting him off from the singing pain in his head and the one bruise of body. He could no longer cry out against the pain, for his nerves and muscles seemed to have been shaken out of all co-ordination, and he gasped as silently as a fish. For Susan this ride to the Beacon was less hard, but her mind was dazed by the pace and shock, until the finger of the burning shone through the trees. The riders approached the Beacon without any slackening of speed, and when the...y reached it they swung in a circle about the mound, and pulled their horses to a skidding halt. The leader rose slowly to the top of the mound and into the fire. He stretched his spear downwards and touched the ground with its point, and Susan had her wish. The old, straight track flowed from the spear like a band of molten steel from a furnace. But now it was not moon-silvered, as Colin had seen it, but a tumbling river of red flame-curls which darted through the wood and beyond sight. The horseman lifted both his arms and threw back his head: Wakeful is He in the Hill of the Dawn!MoreLessRead More Read Less
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