“The falcon is hidden away over yonder. He shall have wine and meat, and a fair woman to sing to him.”
“No spying upon us, Merlin. Let me play with him as I please.”
She found Fulk in a green dell on the edge of the wood, nearly a furlong from the place where the men of Sussex were camped for the night. He was sitting amid the bracken under a fir tree, ankles and wrists lashed together, his face masked by the linen swathings. Two men with bows over their knees were squatting on the edge of the dell, their faces half hidden by scarlet hoods. Isoult guessed that Merlin had followed her, and, glancing back, she caught sight of his grey figure moving amid the trunks of the firs. He called to the two men on the edge of the dell, and they arose and left Fulk and Isoult alone together.
“Good comrade, I am to sing to the King’s brother at Merlin’s desire, but not to a man muffled up like a leper.”
She put her lute on the ground, and, kneeling behind him, unfastened the linen band that covered his face.
“Wrists and ankles might also be free!”
He answered her without turning his head.
“I am not to be tempted.”
She smiled from her vantage point, and, throwing the linen aside, sat down close to him among the bracken. A stone bottle of wine and a clean cloth full of bread and meat had been sent to Fulk by Father Merlin.
“Let us eat and drink, comrade; and then I will sing to you.”