Now hereupon the black knight paced slowly forward upon his great, white horse nor stayed until he came close beside Duke Ivo. Then reining in his charger, he lifted his vizor and spake in voice deep and strong.
"O thou that men call Ivo the Duke, look upon this face—behold these white hairs, this lined brow! Bethink thee of the innocent done to cruel death by thy will, the fair cities given to ravishment and flame— and judge if this be just and sufficient cause for war, and bitter war, betwixt us!"
Now beholding the face of the speaker, his proud and noble bearing, his bold eyes fierce and bright and the grim line of nose and chin, Duke Ivo blenched and drew back, the smile fled from his lip, and he stared wide of eye and breathless.
"Beltane!" quoth he at last, "Beltane—ha! methought thee dusty bones these many years—so it is war, I judge?"
For answer Duke Beltane lifted on high the long sword he bore.
"Ivo," said he, "the cries and groans of my sorrowful and distressed people have waked me from my selfish griefs at last—so am I come for vengeance on their innocent blood, their griefs and wrongs so long endured of thee. This do I swear thee, that this steel shall go unsheathed until I meet thee in mortal combat—and ere this sun be set one of us twain shall be no more."
"Be it so," answered Black Ivo, "this night belike I shall hang thee above the ruins of Belsaye yonder, and thy son with thee!" So saying, he turned about and chin on fist rode into his camp, where was mounting and mustering in hot haste.
"Beltane," spake the Duchess, clasping Beltane's hand, "dost know at last?"
"Aye," answered he with eyes aglow, "But how cometh my noble father yonder?"
"I sought him out in Holy Cross Thicket, Beltane. I told him of thy valiant doings and of thy need of instant aid, and besought him to take up arms for thee and for me and for dear Mortain, and to lead my army 'gainst—"