"Aye, master—though ye had a woundy knock upon the head."
"And what of Giles?"
"He is away to get him arrows to fill his quiver, and to fill his purse with what he may, for the dead lie thick in the road yonder, and there is much plunder."
"And Walkyn?"
"Walkyn, master, having slain Sir Pertolepe's horse yonder, followeth
Pertolepe, minded straight to slay him also."
"Yet dost thou remain, Roger."
"Aye, lord; and here is that which thou wilt need again, methinks; I found it hard by Sir Pertolepe's dead horse." So saying, Roger put Beltane's great sword into his hand. Then Beltane took hold upon the sword, and rising to his feet stretched wide his arms, and felt his strength renewed within him. Therefore he sheathed the sword and set his hand on Roger's broad, mail-clad shoulder.
"Roger," said he, "thou faithful Roger, God hath delivered us from shameful death, wherefore, I hold, He hath yet need of these our bodies."
"As how, master?"
"As I went, nigh swooning in my bonds, methought I heard tell that Sir Gilles of Brandonmere had captive certain women; so now must we deliver them, thou and I, an it may be so."