They came to the Walbrook and the bridge was narrow and the press great. Fulk had to rein in; the great company behind him swayed like a dragon with painted scales.
Fulk’s eyes fell into a sudden stare.
On the parapet of the bridge sat Isoult with Guy the Stallion standing beside her. She was so close to him that Fulk could have touched her with the point of a sword.
Their eyes met, and held. Fulk saw that she knew him, and into Isoult’s face the blood crept like fire.
She held her head high so that her throat showed.
“Long live King Richard, long live the King!”
Fulk’s eyes stared into hers, and they were the eyes of a strong man and not the eyes of a boy.
The crowd gave back, and he rode on with a voice crying within him, “Isoult—ah, Isoult!”
The woman on the parapet found a man gripping her wrist. She glanced down and met the red eyes of Guy the Stallion.
“God’s death, wench, I see light.”