Most of the inmates of the grim castle of Nimmr were inclined pleasantly toward the newcomer. He had brought with him an air of freshness and newness that was rather a relief from the hoary atmosphere that had surrounded Nimmr for nearly seven and a half centuries. He had brought them new words and new expressions and new views, which many of them were joyously adopting, and had it not been for the unreasoning antagonism of the influential Sir Malud, Blake had been accepted with open arms.
Sir Richard was far more popular than Malud, but lacked the latter’s wealth in horses, arms and retainers and consequently had less influence with Prince Gobred. However there were many independent souls who either followed Sir Richard because they were fond of him or arrived at their own decisions without reference to the dictates of policy, and many of these were staunch friends to Blake.
Not all of those who surrounded Malud this afternoon were antagonistic to the American, but the majority of them laughed when Malud laughed and frowned when he frowned, for in the courts of kings and princes flourished the first order of “yes men.”
Blake was greeted by many a smile and nod as he advanced and bowed low before the Princess Guinalda who was one of the company and, being of princely blood, intitled to his first devoirs.
“Thou didst well this morning, Sir James,” said the princess, kindly. “It pleases me greately to see thee ride.”
“Methinketh ’twould be a rarer treat to see him serve a side of venison,” sneered Malud.
This provoked so much laughter that Malud was encouraged to seek further applause.
“ ’Odzooks!” he cried, “arm him with a trencher and carving knife and he would be at home.”
“Speaking of serving,” said Blake, “and Sir Malud’s mind seems to be more occupied with that than with more knightly things, does any of you know what is necessary quickly to serve fresh pig?”
“Nay, fair sir knight,” said Guinalda, “we know not. Prithee tell us.”
“Yes, tell us,” roared Malud, “thou, indeed, shouldst know.”
“You said a mouthful, old scout, I do know!”
“And what be necessary that you may quickly serve fresh pig?” demanded Malud, looking about him and winking.
“A trencher, a carving knife and you, Sir Malud,” replied Blake.
It was several seconds before the thrust penetrated their simple minds and it was the Princess Guinalda who first broke into merry laughter and soon all were roaring, while some explained the quip to others.
No, not all were laughing—not Sir Malud. When he grasped the significance of Blake’s witticism he first turned very red and then went white, for the great Sir Malud liked not to be the butt of ridicule, which is ever the way of those most prone to turn ridicule upon others.
“Sirrah,” he cried, “darest thou affront Malud? ’Od’s blud, fellow! Low born varlet! Only thy blood canst atone this affront!”
“Hop to it, old thing!” replied Blake. “Name your poison!”
“I knowest not the meaning of thy silly words,” cried Malud, “but I know that an’ thou doest not meet me in fair tilt upon the morrow I shalt whip thee across the Valley of the Holy Sepulcher with a barrel stave.”
“You’re on!” snapped back Blake. “Tomorrow morning in the south ballium with—”
“Thou mayst choose the weapons, sirrah,” said Malud.
“Don’t call me sirrah, I don’t like it,” said Blake very quietly, and now he was not smiling. “I want to tell you something, Malud, that may be good for your soul. You are really the only man in Nimmr who didn’t want to treat me well and give me a chance, a fair chance, to prove that I am all right.
“You think you are a great knight, but you are not. You have no intelligence, no heart, no chivalry. You are not what we would call in my country a good sport. You have a few horses and a few men-at-arms. That is all you have, for without them you would not have the favor of the Prince, and without his favor you would have no friends.
“You are not so good or great a man in any way as is Sir Richard, who combines all the qualities of chivalry that for centuries have glorified the order of knighthood; nor are you so good a man as I, who, with your own weapons, will best you on the morrow when, in the north ballium, I meet you on horseback with sword and buckler!”
The members of the party, upon seeing Malud’s wrath had gradually fallen away from Blake until, as he concluded his speech, he stood alone a few paces apart from Malud and those who surrounded him. Then it was that one stepped from among those at Malud’s side and walked to Blake. It was Guinalda.
“Sir James,” she said with a sweet smile, “thou spokest with thy mouth full!” She broke into a merry laugh. “Walk with me in the garden, sir knight,” and taking his arm she guided him toward the south end of the eastern court.
“You’re wonderful!” was all that Blake could find to say.
“Dost really think I be wonderful?” she demanded. “ ’Tis hard to know if men speak the truth to such as I. The truth, as people see it, is spoke more oft to slaves than princes.”
“I hope to prove it by my conduct,” he said.
They had drawn a short distance away from the others now and the girl suddenly laid her hand impulsively upon his.
“I brought thee away, Sir James, that I might speak with thee alone,” she said.
“I do not care what the reason was so long as you did it,” he replied, smiling.
“Thou art a stranger among us, unaccustomed to our ways, unversed in knightly practice—so much so that there are many who doubt thy claims to knighthood. Yet thou art a brave man, or else a very simple one, or thou wouldst never have chosen to meet Sir Malud with sword and buckler, for he be skilled with these while thou
