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Updated: May 22, 2025
So saying, the archer went forth and presently came hasting back with Roger at his heels scowling and in woeful plight. Torn and stained and besprent with mud, his rawhide knee-boots sodden and oozing water, he stood glowering at Giles beneath the bloody clout that swathed his head, his brawny fist upon his dagger. "No food left, say ye, Giles, no food, and I a-famishing?
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.
"My beer!" he wailed, "And I a-famishing wi' thirst! O my beer!" "There's sweet water i' the brook yonder!" says I. "You be a chap wi' no bowels, for sure!" he cried. "Aye, a hard man you be!" "'Tis a hard world," says I, "but 'tis no matter for that, tell me of Sir Richard Brandon." "Why then, you must know I am Myles Trueman "
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