King Edward, who still wore the mailed coat in which he rode along the ranks earlier in the day, was attended by a number of earls and barons, while by his side stood the young Prince of Wales, who regarded the squire with an encouraging smile.
At the foot of the daïs, a little distance to the left, stood Raymond's uncle, Sir Maurice Revyngton, and his late father's former enemy, Sir Reginald Scarsdale, who, though still weak and suffering from his wounds, had, at Sir John's desire, appeared on the young squire's behalf.
"Ah, squire," quoth the King, fixing his dark, keen eyes upon the young man's face, "when we summoned thee to appear before us we looked for an explanation from thine own lips. But thou hast been forestalled, for these two knights have already told us of thy condition. Now, what hast thou to say why thou shouldst not be driven from the camp, being the son of an outlaw?"
"Nothing, sire; 'tis but the law."
"Thou couldst not have said much less," remarked the King, with a grim laugh. "How sayest thou, Sir Reginald Scarsdale. Hast thou a desire to press thy claims?"
"Nay, sire," replied the knight stoutly. "For his father, knowingly and willingly, came to my aid in the thickest of the fight, and but for his courage I should have been worsted."
"But thine oath of vengeance?"
"Sire, my desire for revenge departed the moment I heard from this squire the name of his father, who, in truth, slew my only brother. Furthermore, 'tis my intention to repair, as soon as this war is over, to the shrine of St. Swithin of Winchester and to seek absolution from mine oath."
"And thou hast no wish to harm this squire?"
"None, sire. On the contrary I wish him good——"