“He is a lustful hound who has hunted for many masters. Who knows whom he serves?”
They made their way back to the house, but it seemed full of a horror of darkness and of dead men lying in their blood. Isoult would not enter it.
“That darkness would choke me. I would rather lie out under the moon.”
Fulk remembered the horses, and went round to the stables to see if the beasts were safe. The door was still shut as he had left it, and he blessed the good luck that had left them the horses, for they might need them on the morrow.
He found a truss of hay, and, carrying it into the garden, broke the bands, and spread it under an old yew tree about ten paces from the house.
“Lie down and sleep. I will keep watch.”
“We will take turns at watching.”
“Sleep first, then.”
“Promise that you will wake me.”
“I promise.”