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Updated: June 20, 2025
And when Rodriguez had eaten, Don Alderon sent for wine, and the butler brought it in an olden flagon, dark wine of a precious vintage: and soon the two young men were drinking together and talking of the wickedness of the Moors. And while they talked the night grew late and chilly and still, and the hour came when moths are fewer and young men think of bed.
He gazed much at Serafina and said little. He drank no wine that night with Don Alderon: what need had he of wine? On wonderful journeys that my pen cannot follow, for all the swiftness of the wing from which it came; on darting journeys outspeeding the lithe swallow or that great wanderer the white-fronted goose, his young thoughts raced by a myriad of golden evenings far down the future years.
"I came because you promised me the castle," he said at last. "I did not bid you come here," the man with the folded arms answered. "I went where you bade me," said Rodriguez, "and you were not there." "In four weeks, I said," answered the King angrily. And then Alderon spoke. "Have you any castle for my friend?" he said. "No," said the King of Shadow Valley.
There they camped as well as men can when darkness has fallen before they reach their camping-ground; and Morano lit a great fire before the gate, and the smooth blank shields touching shoulders there up above them shone on Rodriguez and Alderon in the firelight. For a while they wondered at that strange gate that stood there dividing the wilderness; and then sleep came.
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