“A good beginning, truly. Now for the rest,” said Godwin. Then he glanced over his shoulder, and added, “See, they are leading Rosamund away, but Sinan remains, to speak with you doubtless, for Masouda beckons.”
“What shall we do?” asked Wulf. “Make a plan, brother, for my head swims.”
“Hear what he has to say. Then, as your horse is not wounded either, ride for it when I give the signal as Masouda bade us. There is no other way. Pretend that you are wounded.”
So, Godwin leading, while the multitude roared a welcome to the conquering Wulf who had borne himself so bravely for their pleasure, they rode to the mouth of the bridge and halted in the little space before the archway. There Al-je-bal spoke by Masouda.
“A noble fray,” he said. “I did not think that Franks could fight so well; Say, Sir Knight, will you feast with me in my palace?”
“I thank you, lord,” answered Wulf, “but I must rest while my brother tends my hurts,” and he pointed to blood upon his mail. “To-morrow, if it pleases you.”
Sinan stared at them and stroked his beard, while they trembled, waiting for the word of fate.
It came.
“Good. So be it. To-morrow I wed the lady Rose of Roses, and you two—her brothers—shall give her to me, as is fitting,” and he sneered. “Then also you shall receive the reward of valour—a great reward, I promise you.”
While he spoke Godwin, staring upward, had noted a little wandering cloud floating across the moon. Slowly it covered it, and the place grew dim.