"Nay, 'tis but the archer's folly," quoth Walkyn--"sit, man, eat, drink, and speak us thy news."
"News," growled Roger, seating himself at table, "the woods be thick with Pertolepe's rogues seeking my master, rogues known to me each one, that ran to do my bidding aforetime--in especial one Ralpho--that was my assistant in the dungeons once. Thrice did they beset me close, and once did I escape by running, once by standing up to my neck in a pool, and once lay I hid in a tree whiles they, below, ate and drank like ravening swine--and I a-famishing. A murrain on 'em, one and all, say I--in especial Ralpho that was my comrade once--may he rot henceforth--"
"Content you, Roger, he doth so!" laughed grim Walkyn and pointed to his axe.
"Forsooth, and is it so?" growled Roger, his scowl relaxing--"now will I eat full and blithely, for Ralpho was an arrant knave."
Now when his hunger was somewhat assuaged, Roger turned and looked where Beltane lay.
"My master sleepeth?" said he, his voice grown gentle.
"Nay, Roger, I lie and wait thy news," spake Beltane, his eyes yet closed.
"Why then, 'tis war, master--battle and siege. The country is up as far as Winisfarne. Black Ivo lieth at Barham Broom with a great company--I have seen their tents and pavilions like a town, and yet they come, for Ivo hath summoned all his powers to march against Thrasfordham. 'Twixt here and Pentavalon city, folk do say the roads be a-throng with bows and lances--lords and barons, knights and esquires, their pennons flutter everywhere."
"'Tis well!" sighed Beltane.
"Well, master--nay, how mean you?"
"That being at Barham Broom, they cannot be otherwhere, Roger. Saw you Pertolepe's banner among all these?"
"Aye, master; they have set up his pavilion beside the Duke's."
"Tell me now," said Beltane, coming to his elbow, "how many men should be left within Garthlaxton for garrison, think you?"
"An hundred, belike!" said Walkyn.
"Less," quoth Roger; "Garthlaxton is so strong a score of men have held it ere now. 'Tis accounted the strongest castle in all the Duchy, save only Thrasfordham."
"Truly 'tis very strong!" said Beltane thoughtfully, and lying down again he closed his eyes and spake slow and drowsily--"Aye, 'tis so strong, its garrison, being secure, should sleep sound o' nights. So 'twould be no great matter to surprise and burn it ere the dawn, methinks!"
"Burn Garthlaxton!" cried the archer, and sprang up, scattering the arrows right and left.
"Master!" stammered Roger, "master--"
As for Walkyn, he, having his mouth full and striving to speak, choked instead.
"Lord--lord!" he gasped at last, "to see Garthlaxton go up in flame--O blessed sight! Its blood-soaked walls crumble to ruin--ah, sweet, rare sight! But alas! 'tis a mighty place and strong, and we but four--"