"Roy, the page from Starning, to speak with my lord."
"Wait you there, Roy. I will ask for you."
The guard went off whistling. Isoult fixed long looks again on the two at the end of the terrace. She was nearly done.
"You have made a push for it, my shaver," said the second guard, after a study from head to toe.
"My business pushed me."
"Ah, trouble in the forest, eh? Are the roads clear?"
"I met with a company."
"How many pikes?"
"Nearer sixty than fifty."
"Where bound?"