Edred was stumbling across the courtyard, supported by Julian, his face streaming with blood and muffled in a great kerchief. He was unable to speak himself, but Julian spoke eagerly for him.
"I trow the fault is half mine. It was done in tilting. I was careless, and saw not that Edred's guard was down. I fear me I have something hurt him. I trust it is not the eye. Look to it quickly, sweet mother. It was a nasty blow."
"It is not of serious nature," muttered Edred through his wrappings; "it will be well right quickly."
The mother hurried the two boys into a small room of her own where she kept medicaments of various kinds, and where all wounds of a trifling character were washed and dressed. Julian hurried to fetch her all she needed; and just at that moment Sir Oliver came hastily in looking for his wife.
"How now, Edred?" he exclaimed. "Hast thou been in the wars again?" for Edred was something famed for getting hard knocks and ugly scratches in his mimic encounters with his more skilled and dexterous brothers. "Why, boy, but this is a worse business than usual. I am sorry for it, for I had something purposed to take thee with me to Windsor on the next morrow, as well as Bertram, and show thee to the king, and give thee a glimpse of the world of court. But if thou be in such plight as this, thou wilt scarce be fit to go."
"I must await another time," muttered Edred, in the same indistinct way, and Julian added with an air of chagrin:
"It was a villainous mischance. I would I had been more careful. I am always having the ill luck to hurt Edred."
"Nay, the fault is mine!" exclaimed the other boy.
"And now thou wilt be hindered from seeing the king and his fine court."
"Perchance thou wilt go in my stead."