He paused. FitzOsbern had half-turned in his saddle and was surveying the rugged hill of Lude upon the other side of the ford.
"What a rock of defence!" he exclaimed. "Careless fools to let it stand unfortified!… Well, I did look for thee to come to greet us; but alone? and—toil-stained, is it? I have seen no rascal English hereabouts. This seems a village dead or sleeping. Are ye the only persons here alive, thou and one child?"
"News of your coming has reached these English, my lord, and they believe that your purpose is to spoil their homesteads, and so they are gone without into the country, gathering together all able men for resistance. Wild Edric of Clun was here but now, at work upon their fears. Though they be mostly on foot, and their weapons be rusty, they are more than we, and might bar your road to Hereford. Come with me, I pray you: on yonder hill I have a strong house, where ye, aye, and all these, may be safe."
"Joyously will we partake of thine hospitality, good Richard, for an hour or so, although our march be thereby delayed. Thy Howel, I know, will lead Ralph de Mortemar to thy very door. Say, who is the lad? Son of thine, I wager."
"My eldest son, so please you. Osbern, stand forth."
"Hah! Osbern fitzRichard, how sayest thou?
"Wilt thou serve my lady in bower and at board until such time as thou be old enough to ride with me into battle?"
"Assurement, mon seignior!" replied the child, upon his knee beside his father in a moment. His French had the thick accent of an Englishman.
FitzOsbern smiled down upon him.
"Shalt learn more gracious French," said he, "but not more gracious manners. Well, let us be going."