Dusk fell on them in a little valley, through which ran a stream bushed about its edges, and which for the rest was grassy and pleasant, with big sweet-chestnut trees scattered about it.
“Now,” quoth the Elder; “two things we have to beware of in this valley, the lions first; which, though belike they will not fall upon weaponed men, may well make an onslaught on your horses, if they wind them; and the loss of the beasts were sore to you as now. But the second thing is the chase from Utterbol. As to the lions, if ye build up a big fire, and keep somewhat aloof from the stream and its bushes, and tether you horses anigh the fire, ye will have no harm of them.”
“Yea,” said Ralph, “but if the riders of Utterbol are anigh us, shall we light a candle for them to show them the way?” Said the Sage: “Were ye by yourselves, I would bid you journey nightlong, and run all risk rather than the risk of falling into their hands. But whereas I am your guide, I bid you kindle your fire under yonder big tree, and leave me to deal with the men of Utterbol; only whatso I bid you, that do ye straightway.”
“So be it,” said Ralph, “I have been bewrayed so oft of late, that I must needs trust thee, or all help shall fail me. Let us to work.” So they fell to and built up a big bale and kindled it, and their horses they tethered to the tree; and by then they had done this, dark night had fallen upon them. So they cooked their victual at the fire (for Ralph had shot a hare by the way) and the Sage went down to the stream and fetched them water in a lethern budget: “For,” said he, “I know the beasts of the wood and they me, and there is peace betwixt us.” There then they sat to meat unarmed, for the Sage had said to them: “Doff your armour; ye shall not come to handystrokes with the Utterbol Riders.”
So they ate their meat in the wilderness, and were nowise ungleeful, for to those twain the world seemed fair, and they hoped for great things. But though they were glad, they were weary enough, for the way had been both rugged and long; so they lay them down to sleep while the night was yet young. But or ever Ralph closed his eyes he saw the Sage standing up with his cloak wrapped about his head, and making strange signs with his right hand; so that he deemed that he would ward them by wizardry. So therewith he turned about on the grass and was asleep at once.
After a while he started and sat up, half awake at first; for he felt someone touch him; and his half-dreams went back to past days, and he cried out: “Hah Roger! is it thou? What is toward?” But therewith he woke up fully, and knew that it was the Sage that had touched him, and withal he saw hard by Ursula, sitting up also.
There was still a flickering flame playing about the red embers of their fire, for they had made it very big; and the moon had arisen and was shining bright in a cloudless sky.
The Sage spake softly but quickly: “Lie down together, ye two, and I shall cast my cloak over you, and look to it that ye stir not from out of it, nor speak one word till I bid you, whate’er may befall: for the riders of Utterbol are upon us.”
They did as he bade them, but Ralph got somewhat of an eyeshot out of a corner of the cloak, and he could see that the Sage went and stood up against the tree-trunk holding a horse by the bridle, one on each side of him. Even therewith Ralph heard the clatter of horse-hoofs over the stones about the stream, and a man’s voice cried out: “They will have heard us; so spur over the grass to the fire and the big tree: for then they cannot escape us.” Then came the thump of horse-hoofs on the turf, and in half a minute they were amidst of a rout of men a-horseback, more than a score, whose armour and weapons gleamed in the moonlight: yet when these riders were gotten there, they were silent, till one said in a quavering voice as if afeard: “Otter, Otter! what is this? A minute ago and we could see the fire, and the tree, and men and horses about them: and now, lo you! there is naught save two great grey stones lying on the grass, and a man’s bare bones leaning up against the tree, and a ruckle of old horse-bones on either side of him. Where are we then?”
Then spake another; and Ralph knew the voice for Otter’s: “I wot not, lord; naught else is changed save the fire and the horses and the men: yonder are the hills, yonder overhead is the moon, with the little light cloud dogging her; even that is scarce changed. Belike the fire was an earth-fire, and for the rest we saw wrong in the moonlight.”
Spake the first man again, and his voice quavered yet more: “Nay nay, Otter, it is not so. Lo you the skeleton and the bones and the grey stones! And the fire, here this minute, there the next. O Otter, this is an evil place of an evil deed! Let us go seek elsewhere; let us depart, lest a worse thing befall us.”
