“Why must you go?”
“Why, brother-in-arms, because we are not the only people on God’s earth who thirst to humble the Lord of Troy. We have friends in the Forest, and I must see them—take counsel, and plan what can be done. They were waiting for friends from France, and for poor Gilbert to give the word.”
He answered her with sudden fire.
“I carry your brother’s sword and wear his harness. It is my right to go.”
She smiled at him with quiet eyes.
“Dear man, that would not help us; you could not prove, as yet, that you are in the secret. Besides, all the wheels of it are in my head. I shall ride to Badger Hill and see John Falconer; he holds the reins in the Forest.”
“But what of the Lord of Troy? Those dead men——”
“What does he know as yet? He may send out riders, but I know the Forest better than any man that Roger Bland can count on. I shall not be caught in a snare. Moreover, Martin Valliant, I leave you to guard our stronghold and the precious gear in that cellar.”
He was very loth to let her go alone, and bitterly against it, though he saw the wisdom of her argument.
“My heart mislikes this venture.”