She went into the solar, found a piece of clean linen, and, soaking it in wine, took it to him so that he might quench his thirst.
“They are accursedly quiet out yonder. Merlin is dangerous when he is quiet.”
“I would have put an arrow through him, but he kept behind his men.”
Silence held, yet it was a silence that was not absolute, but rather a cautious suppression of sound that hinted at movement going on out yonder in the darkness. The two on the stairs strained their ears, knowing well that some fresh mischief was brewing.
Isoult held up a hand.
“Did you hear that?”
“This helmet muffles things.”
“It was like the sound of dry sticks breaking.”
Fulk started up.
“Faggots! There is a big pile behind the house.”