“Ay,” Huntingdon nodded.
“Well enough,” Alan sighed.
“But one thing,” Malvallet said.
Simon’s eyes were upon him.
“And that?”
“I do understand mine own part, for ’tis child’s play. What part do you play, sir?”
“I lead those who enter the town by the mine. I am the twelfth man,” Simon answered quietly.
On the word there was an outcry.
“You have assigned to yourself the most difficult task!” Huntingdon exclaimed.
“Nay, Simon, it is not fitting,” Alan said softly.
“At least ye will take me with you!” Geoffrey cried.
“Nay.” The word fell heavily, enforcing silence. “It shall be as I have said.”
“But, Simon!” Geoffrey threw out his hands impulsively. “What comes to us if ye fall?”
“Then shall ye be commander in my room. I fall not.”
Huntingdon smote his knee.
“Beauvallet, take my place, and let me take thine! Indeed, indeed—”
“Silence, Holland. What I have said I have said.”
Alan rose, stretching himself like a cat. His eyes seemed more childlike than before, his pose more indolent.
“Simon, for the love that lies betwixt us two assign thy task to me.”
Simon came to his feet, and laid his hands on Alan’s shoulders.
“Thou lovesick child! Then were we indeed lost. Be content to do my bidding.”
Alan clasped his hands on Simon’s arm.
“Simon, I beg of thee!”
“And I.” Malvallet clanked forward, and smote Simon upon the shoulder. “Lad, there is too much danger in thy task. We need thee for other things, and if thou art slain we fall to pieces.”
Simon shook his head indomitably.
“Thou wilt meet me within the gates of Belrémy, Geoffrey. My hand on it.”
Malvallet wrung his hand.
“Simon, if so be they slay thee before thou hast flung open the gates, Belrémy shall have no quarter. That I swear.”
A gleam came into the curious eyes.
“Beauvallet dies not with his task unaccomplished, Geoffrey. Now listen to me, and cease thy plainings. Lie safe and still behind yonder palisade until the gates swing back, and the bridge is down. Then charge swiftly over. Let no movement be seen in my camp that thou canst avoid. Thyself lead the van, and let Alan follow. And come quickly, Geoffrey, for it may be that I shall need thy help.”
“By God!” Malvallet swore, “if I come not at once, may I be damned eternally!”
Simon nodded briefly, and turned to address them all.
“And further, let this my command be given out: If any man strike down a woman or child in the fight, or offer injury where none is courted, his life will I take, and that right speedily. I will have no burning or pillaging, but order and chivalry. Ye do understand?”
“Ay.”
“Then that is all. Fare ye well, Huntingdon. I shall not fail you.”
The young Earl gripped his hand for a moment, smiling.
“We meet within Belrémy, Beauvallet. God be with you and keep you in His care.”
“And you.” Simon watched him swing out of the tent, and turned to his two friends. There was a little warmth in his voice now, and his eyes rested kindly upon them.
“If this be my last fight, my lands go to the King, by this my Will.” He picked up a sealed parchment. “My wealth I have divided equally between you, saving only that which I have left to my Marshal, Maurice of Gountray, and mine other men. I leave this packet with Bernard of Talmayne. One of you will care for Cedric and Edmund for my sake?”
“I will,” Alan answered and turned away, lifting one flap of the tent and gazing out.
But Geoffrey put his hand on Simon’s shoulder.
“Simon, ye have never spoken thus before. Not in all our fights. What ill-omen dost thou feel, my brother?”
“None.” Simon smiled into the anxious eyes. “Yet this will be a stern fight, and I would leave all in order.”
“If thou shouldst be slain,” Geoffrey began, and broke off. “Well, thou dost know.”
“Ay.”
“If thou shouldst be slain,” Alan said slowly, “then shall the vixen Margaret die.”
“Nay. That is folly. I die not. But if any of us be missing tomorrow, when all is done, those that are left will have lost the most faithful and the dearest friend. Go now, Geoffrey, and sleep whilst thou may.”
Geoffrey lingered still.
“And thou?”
“I have to see my captain, Walter of Santoy, and I must attend to some other matters. Remember, Geoffrey, if I fall tomorrow, thou art in command. Subdue Belrémy and invest it under Huntingdon. Then repair at once to the King. I can tell thee no more.”
“If thou dost fall before thou canst open the gates—”
Simon smiled grimly.
“That may not be. Fare thee well, my brother.” He watched Geoffrey walk to the entrance. “Tell thy men to follow the Gilded Armour. I shall wear it.”
Geoffrey nodded. He paused by Alan and spoke to him.
“Thou wilt be ready, Alan?”
“Ay. I will come to thee when Simon goes, to hear thine orders.”
Geoffrey nodded again and went out. Simon’s secretary entered from the inner tent, and Alan waited until Simon
