How At Last They Came To Pentavalon City

"So do I thank God, but see how many--O how many do lie fallen by the way!"

"Why, in battle, most gentle lady, in battle men must needs fall or wherefore should battles be? Much have I seen of wars, lady, but ne'er saw eyes sterner fray than this--"

"And I pray God," spake the Duchess, shivering, "these eyes may ne'er look upon another! O 'tis hateful sight--see--look yonder!" and she pointed where from the awful battle-wrack reeled men faint with wounds while others dragged themselves painfully across the trampled ground.

"Why, 'twas a bloody business!" quoth the knight, shaking his bandaged head.

"Sir Hacon," said the Duchess, frowning and pale, "I pray you summon me the Reeve, yonder." And when the Reeve was come, she spake him very soft and sweet: "Messire, I pray you let us out and aid the poor, stricken souls yonder."

"But lady, the battle is not yet won--to open our gates were unwise, methinks."

"Good Reeve, one died but lately whom all men loved, but dying, Friar Martin spake these words--'I see Belsaye rich and happy, her gates ever open to the woeful and distressed.' Come, ope the gates and let us out to cherish these afflicted."

Thus presently forth from Belsaye rode the Duchess Helen, with Sir Hacon beside her and many of the townsfolk, hasting pale-cheeked and trembling to minister unto the hurt and dying, and many there were that day who sighed out their lives in blessings on her head.