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Updated: June 11, 2025
I have stormed behind him through a breach, and I know of none dare cope with him unless it be Sir Pertolepe the Red." BELTANE. "Hast ne'er heard tell, then, of Benedict of Bourne?" "Now by the blood and bones of St. Giles 'tis so! Out o' the mouth of a babe and suckling am I corrected! Verily if there be one to front Black Ivo 'tis Benedict o' the Mark.
And many of Ivo's rogues we slew until of those knights and men-at-arms that burned our home there none remained save Red Pertolepe and Gui of Allerdale. But in the green love came even to me so I laid by mine axe and vengeance likewise and came to know happiness until upon a day they hanged my brother, and thereafter they slew her my wife and child e'en as ye saw.
Hereupon from the disordered ranks a sound arose, a hoarse murmur that voiced their stark amaze, and, for a while, all eyes stared upon those two grim figures that yet stood so close and brotherly. But Sir Pertolepe quelled them with a gesture: "Go!" he commanded.
"Nay," said Beltane, "all this I know, for much of thee have I heard, messire: of thy dark doings, of the agony of men, the shame of women, and how that there be many desolate hearths and nameless graves of thy making, lord Pertolepe. Thou wert indeed of an high estate and strong, and these but lowly folk and weak yet mercy on them had ye none.
Then of a sudden Walkyn shouted fierce and loud, and sprang forward with mighty axe whirled aloft. "Ha Pertolepe, turn!" he roared, "Ho, Bloody Pertolepe turn, thou dog! 'Tis I 'tis Waldron of Brand!"
Every evening came Sir Pertolepe leaning on the arm of Raoul the esquire, to view his prisoner with greedy eyes and ply him with jovial talk whiles Beltane would lie frowning up at the mighty roof-beams, or sit, elbows on knee, his fingers clenched upon that lock of hair that gleamed so strangely white amid the yellow.
"God's time is not ours, Walkyn, but for the evil wrought by Sir Pertolepe, Sir Pertolepe needs must answer when God so wills. So leave him to the vengeance of God lest the fire of thy vengeance consume thee quite. Thou art strong, and few may cope with thee in fight, yet hath vengeance fettered and made thee bond-slave. Forego thy vengeance then, and be free, good comrade."
Now indeed did Sir Pertolepe stare upon my Beltane in amaze and spake no word for wonder; then, of a sudden he laughed, scornful and loud. "Ho! thou burner of gibbets!" quoth he, "take heed lest thy windy boasting bring thy lordly neck within a noose! Art lusty of arm, yet lustier of tongue and as to thy father, whoe'er he be " "Messire?"
"But he sore wounded!" quoth Walkyn. "How!" cried the friar aghast, "have ye indeed slain Sir Pertolepe's foresters?" "Nineteen!" nodded Roger, grimly. "Alas!" cried the friar, "may God save the poor folk hereabouts, for now will Sir Pertolepe wreak vengeance dire upon them." "Then," said Beltane, "then must I have word with Sir Pertolepe."
"What, silly wench, will ye defy me still?" cried Sir Pertolepe, jovial of voice, "must ye to the whip in sooth? Ho, Ralph Otho, strip me this stubborn jade so! Ha! verily Cuthbert, hast shrewd eyes, 'tis a dainty rogue.
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