Although the voices were kept very low, Giles caught every word that was said. The young man (who, Giles afterwards learned, was generally known as Count Godfrey, Keeper of the Great Seal) looked backwards over the line of horsemen before he answered the King.
‘About fifty, all told, Your Majesty.’
‘How many are my men and how many are the Duke’s?’
‘They are all yours, Sire, except the six huntsmen, the Duke’s Head Falconer and the Captain of the Guard.’
‘Good!’ said the King. ‘Send the Captain of the Guard back into the castle on some excuse. Let me see. Tell him to bring me a spare horse. Yes, that’s it. Say I want Midnight, the black mare. Let one of my own grooms ride her. No hurry, you understand. If he overtakes us by midday it will be time enough. Go now and get rid of him. I will await you here. And after you rejoin me, Godfrey, remember if you love me you will stick to my side like a shadow till this day’s over.’
The young man turned and trotted back along the line of standing horsemen. The King remained looking down for a moment at the shell in his hand.
‘Magic?’ he muttered. ‘I thought the days of magic had gone by. Magic or madness?—Or a dream? Yet why not? They still would come to touch me for the King’s evil. Well, there it is: it works. A shell—with a roar of voices in it, instead of the roaring of the sea.’
Then suddenly he handed it back to Giles.
‘But, Your Majesty,’ said the boy, ‘don’t you want to keep it?’
‘Yes, indeed I do,’ said the King. ‘But I want you to carry it for me. I am taking you with us, you see. Can you ride a horse?’