Meanwhile the brothers journeyed rapidly through the broad lands of France. Nowhere could they find an abiding-place, for they were outlaws, whose life was forfeited if they fell into the emperor’s hands. At length they came to Saforet, a Moorish chieftain, with whom they made friends, and to whom they swore fealty. They remained with him three years, serving him well; but when, at the expiration of that time, they asked for the pay he had promised but never given, the Moor, who thought them unable to defend their rights, refused to listen to the request. So Reinold, growing impatient, cut off his head. It was certainly an effectual way of ending the argument, but it necessitated immediate flight on the part of the brothers. This time they turned for protection to Iwo, prince of Tarasconia, the mightiest opponent of Saforet. The prince received them with every mark of honour, and with their help gained many victories over his enemies. But when he heard of the imperial ban under which they lived, Iwo called his council together, and asked what was to be done. Some of his advisers wanted him to get rid of the brothers as quickly as possible; while others said that it would be well to court the emperor’s favour by delivering the outlaws into his hand; but the greater number were of opinion that the best thing to do would be to bind the heroes by some strong tie to the princely house. This last piece of advice was the one followed by Iwo, who gave Reinold his only daughter Clarissa to wife, and appointed him and his brothers a residence by the sea. There a strong fortress called Montalban was built, which became the chief stronghold of the principality. On one occasion the emperor’s forces besieged it for a whole year, and then had to withdraw, baffled. “Look,” cried Richard, looking down from the battlements, “the imperial eagle flutters away into the forest with a broken wing. Up, Reinold, and after it, that we may send it home like a plucked goose.” “I have something else to do,” answered his brother thoughtfully. “Seven years have passed over our heads since we saw our good mother. The longing to see her again gnaws at my heart; I must go and visit her, were it to cost me my life.” His brothers agreed to go with him; so they armed themselves cap-a-pie, drew long grey pilgrims’ dresses over their armour, and set out for Castle Pierlepont. They got there safely, and were received with the greatest joy by their mother, who could not do enough to show them how happy their coming had made her.