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Updated: May 25, 2025
But, grim and silent, Beltane leaped down among them, his long blade glittering in the moonlight, and before the mighty sweep of it they fell back, crowding upon each other and confused; then Beltane, turning, cut asunder the cord and Giles Brabblecombe fell and lay 'neath the shade of the tree, wheezing and whimpering in the grass.
It was Giles Brabblecombe singing to himself as he knelt beside a fire of twigs, and Beltane, opening sleepy eyes, looked round upon a world all green and gold and dew-bespangled; a fair world and fragrant, whose balmy air breathed of hidden flowers and blooming thickets, whence came the joyous carolling of new-waked birds; and beholding all this and the glory of it, my Beltane must needs praise God he was alive.
Looking upon these legs, Beltane knew them by their very attitude for the legs of one who watched intently, but while he looked, they stirred, shifted, and growing lax, became the legs of one who lounged; then, slow and lazily, they began to descend lower and lower until the brown, comely face of Giles Brabblecombe o' the Hills smiled down upon Beltane with a gleam of white teeth.
As for me, Giles Brabblecombe o' the Hills men call me, for 'twas in the hill country I was born thirty odd years agone. Since then twelve sieges have I seen with skirmishes and onfalls thrice as many. Death have I beheld in many and divers shapes and in experience of wounds and dangers am rich, though, by St.
"Giles," said he softly, rocking the archer in his grasp, "O Giles Brabblecombe o' the Hills, did I not save thy roguish life for thee? Did not Walkyn and Roger preserve it to thee? So doth thy life belong to Walkyn and to Roger and to me. Four men are we together, four brothers in arms, vowed to each other in the fulfilment of a purpose is it not so?" "Yea, verily, lord.
Now hereupon Beltane turned, and looking upon the mighty three with kindling eye, beckoned them near. "Lord Jocelyn," said he, "behold here my trusty comrades, valiant men all: this, my faithful Roger, surnamed the Black: This, Giles Brabblecombe, who shooteth as ne'er did archer yet: and here, Walkyn who hath known overmuch of sorrow and bitter wrong.
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