Which Tells How Three Mighty Men Swear Fealty to Beltane: And How Good Friar Martin Digged a Grave in the Wild

Quoth Beltane, his aching head upon his hand: "Whither?"

"To death if needs be, for a man must die soon or late, yet die but once whether it be by the steel, or flame, or rope. So what matter the way of it, if I may stand with this my axe face to face with Gilles of Brandonmere, or Red Pertolepe of Garthlaxton Keep: 'twas for this I followed his foresters."

"Who and whence are you?"

"Walkyn o' the Dene they call me hereabouts--though I had another name once--but 'twas long ago, when I marched, a lad, 'neath the banner of Beltane the Strong!"

"What talk be this?" grunted Black Roger, threatening of mien, "my lord and I be under a vow and must begone, and want no runaway serf crawling at our heels!"

"Ha!" quoth Walkyn, "spake I to thee, hangman? Forsooth, well do I know thee, Roger the Black: come ye into the glade yonder, so will I split thy black poll for thee--thou surly dog!"

Forth leapt Black Roger's sword, back swung Walkyn's glittering axe, but Beltane was between, and, as they stood thus came Giles o' the Bow: "Oho!" he laughed, "must ye be at it yet? Have we not together slain of Sir Pertolepe's foresters a round score?--"

"'Twas but nineteen!" growled Roger, frowning at Walkyn.