For the second shaft flew from the Turkish bow, and the noise of the chase was loud behind them. Once again twanged the bowstring, but this time the arrow fell short, and the woodland man, turning himself about as well as he might, shook his clenched fist at the chase, crying out in a voice broken by the gallop: “Ha, thieves! I am Roger of the Ropewalk, I go to twist a rope for the necks of you!”
Then he spake to Ralph: “They are turning back: they are beaten, and withal they love not the open road: yet slacken not yet, young knight, unless thou lovest thine horse more than thy life; for they will follow on through the thicket on the wayside to see whether thou wert born a fool and hast learned nothing later.”
“Yea,” said Ralph, “and now I deem thou wilt tell me that to the Burg I needs must.”
“Yea, forsooth,” said the carle, “nor shall we be long, riding thus, ere we come to the Burg Gate.”
“Yea, or even slower,” said Ralph, drawing rein somewhat, “for now I deem the chase done: and after all is said, I have no will to slay Falcon, who is one of my friends, as thou perchance mayest come to be another.”
Thereafter he went a hand-gallop till the wood began to thin, and there were fields of tillage about the highway; and presently Roger said: “Thou mayst breathe thy nag now, and ride single, for we are amidst friends; not even a score of the Dry Tree dare ride so nigh the Burg save by night and cloud.”
So Ralph stayed his horse, and he and Roger lighted down, and Ralph looked about him and saw a stone tower builded on a little knoll amidst a wheatfield, and below it some simple houses thatched with straw; there were folk moreover working, or coming and going about the fields, who took little heed of the two when they saw them standing quiet by the horse’s head; but each and all of these folk, so far as could be seen, had some weapon.
Then said Ralph: “Good fellow, is this the Burg of the Four Friths?” The carle laughed, and said: “Simple is the question, Sir Knight: yonder is a watchtower of the Burg, whereunder husbandmen can live, because there be men-at-arms therein. And all round the outskirts of the Frank of the Burg are there suchlike towers to the number of twenty-seven. For that, say folk, was the tale of the winters of the Fair Lady who erewhile began the building of the Burg, when she was first wedded to the Forest Lord, who before that building had dwelt, he and his fathers, in thatched halls of timber here and there about the clearings of the wildwood. But now, knight, if thou wilt, thou mayest go on softly toward the Gate of the Burg, and if thou wilt I will walk beside thy rein, which fellowship, as aforesaid, shall be a gain to me.”
Said Ralph: “I pray thee come with me, good fellow, and show me how easiest to enter this stronghold.” So, when Falcon was well breathed, they went on, passing through goodly acres and wide meadows, with here and there a homestead on them, and here and there a carle’s cot. Then came they to a thorp of the smallest on a rising ground, from the further end of which they could see the walls and towers of the Burg. Thereafter right up to the walls were no more houses or cornfields, nought but reaches of green meadows plenteously stored with sheep and kine, and with a little stream winding about them.
XII
Ralph Entereth Into the Burg of the Four Friths
When they came up to the wall they saw that it was well builded of good ashlar, and so high that they might not see the roofs of the town because of it; but there were tall towers on it, a many of them, strong and white. The road led up straight to the master-gate of the Burg, and there was a bailey before it strongly walled, and manned with weaponed men, and a captain going about amongst them. But they entered it along with men bringing wares into the town, and none heeded them much, till they came to the very gate, on the further side of a moat that was both deep and clean; but as now the bridge was down and the portcullis up, so that the market-people might pass in easily, for it was yet early in the day. But before the door on either side stood men-at-arms well weaponed, and on the right side was their captain, a tall man with bare grizzled head, but otherwise all-armed, who stopped everyone whom he knew not, and asked their business.
As Ralph came riding up with Roger beside him, one of the guard laid his spear across and bade them stand, and the captain spake in a dry cold voice: “Whence comest thou, man-at-arms?” “From the Abbey of St. Mary at Higham,” said Ralph. “Yea,” said the captain, smiling grimly, “even so I might have deemed: thou wilt be one of the Lord Abbot’s lily lads.” “No I am not,” quoth Ralph angrily. “Well, well,” said the captain, “what is thy name?”
“Ralph Motherson,” quoth Ralph, knitting his brow. Said the captain “And whither wilt thou?” Said Ralph, “On mine own errands.” “Thou answerest not over freely,” quoth the captain. Said Ralph, “Then is it even; for thou askest freely enough.” “Well, well,” said the captain, grinning in no unfriendly wise, “thou seemest a stout lad enough; and as to my asking, it is my craft as captain of the North Gate: but now tell me friendly, goest thou to any kinsman or friend in the Burg?”
Then Ralph’s brow cleared and he said, “Nay, fair sir.” “Well then,” said the captain, “art thou but riding straight through
