“She turned a knife aside from me, Knollys.”
“Isoult, a woman can look into a man’s eyes and read his honour. Fulk here looks at me askance, as though I, Robert Knollys, were a false and bloody dog fit to hunt with that dead hound yonder. By the Cross of Christ, I knew nothing of this treachery.”
Isoult was ready with her answer.
“I believe it.”
But Knollys looked at Fulk.
“Let him speak, for I was his father’s comrade in arms.”
Something gave way in Fulk’s mistrust. The blood rushed to his face; his eyes grew generous. He stood forward, holding out a hand.
“Knollys, God pardon me. I have had a devil in me since I saw the ring on that friar’s hand.”
“And, by heaven, lad, I too have a devil in me. Richard is at Windsor; I would put this ring in the false boy’s nose.”
He went to where Merlin lay, and, taking the ring from the dead hand, slipped it on his own little finger.