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Updated: June 14, 2025
Who so utterly content as Black Roger, oft glancing from Beltane's figure in the van to the files of his pike-men, their slung shields agleam, their spears well sloped?
Of a sudden, shouted he joyously, for, flashing high in air, down came Beltane's long blade strong and true upon the knight's helm a fell, deep-dinting stroke that drave the stranger reeling back.
"I must go back," said Beltane, loosening sword in scabbard, "for needs must I this night have word with Gui of Allerdale." "Nay," whispered the friar, with pleading hand on Beltane's arm, "'tis thing impossible " "Yet must I try, good brother " "Ah, dear my son, 'twill be thy death "
Now Giles, meeting Beltane's wide stare, must needs cough and fumble with his bow, whiles Roger stood with bowed head and fingers tight-clenched upon his quarter-staff: whereat, fierce-frowning, Beltane spake.
Red grew my Beltane's cheek and he looked not to her as he answered: "Lady, I have no new song." "Why then, is thy lesson yet unlearned?" said she. "Have ye no love but for birds and flowers?" and her red lip curled scornfully. Quoth Beltane: "Is there aught more worthy?"
Now hereupon the wily Roger, noting the pallor of Beltane's sunken cheek and how his broad breast laboured yet, and moreover feeling himself aglow with lusty life and vigour, smiled grimly, nothing doubting the issue. Wherefore he nodded his head. "So be it, master," said he, "only take thy wind first."
'Tis thus thou did'st teach me to show mercy to the weak and helpless, and this is a youth, unarmed. Bethink thee, master O bethink thee!" Slowly Beltane's arm sank, and looking upon the bright blade he let it fall upon the ling and covered his face within his two hands as if its glitter had blinded him.
But, ever and anon as they stumbled forward, guiding themselves by instinct, the moon sent forth a pale beam from the whirling cloud-wrack a phantom light that stole upon them, sudden and ghost-like, and, like a ghost, was gone again; what time Black Roger, following hard on Beltane's heel, crossed himself and muttered fragments of forgotten prayers.
Kling-klang, ding-dong, hear the hammers clinking Stone pots, iron kettles, copper cups for drinkin'! Elf-shots for bowmen plough a mighty furrow Hee-o, wee-o, foxling in our burrow! Hush thee, my baby! The Beltane's aglow, Making the deasil the wiseacres go. Brewing our heather-wine, dancing in round Earth-folk are we, by her spells are we bound.
So saying, Beltane turned and keeping ever within the shadow of the trees, set off towards that distant hill where stood the gallows, black against the moon. Swiftly they went and for the most part in silence, for Beltane's mind was busied upon many matters.
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