“----” quoth William, who was as sharp as the Italian, and had seen it all. “I will make thee a bishop!” “Spare to burden my weakness,” said the chaplain; and slipt away into the shade. “You will take his advice?” asked Ivo. “I will.” “Then I shall see that Torfrida burn at last.” “Burn her?” and William swore. “I promised my soldiers to burn the witch with reeds out of Haddenham fen, as she had burned them; and I must keep my knightly word.” William swore yet more. Ivo Taillebois was a butcher and a churl. “Call me not butcher and churl too often, Lord King, ere thou hast found whether thou needest me or not. Rough I may be, false was I never.” “That thou wert not,” said William, who needed Taillebois much, and feared him somewhat; and remarked something meaning in his voice, which made him calm himself, diplomat as he was, instantly. “But burn Torfrida thou shalt not.” “Well, I care not. I have seen a woman burnt ere now, and had no fancy for the screeching. Beside, they say she is a very fair dame, and has a fair daughter, too, coming on, and she may very well make a wife for a Norman.” “Marry her thyself.” “I shall have to kill Hereward first.” “Then do it, and I will give thee his lands.” “I may have to kill others before Hereward.” “You may?” And so the matter dropped. But William caught Ivo alone after an hour, and asked him what he meant. “No pay, no play. Lord King, I have served thee well, rough and smooth.” “Thou hast, and hast been well paid. But if I have said aught hasty--” “Pish, Majesty. I am a plain-spoken man, and like a plain-spoken master. But, instead of marrying Torfrida or her daughter, I have more mind to her niece, who is younger, and has no Hereward to be killed first.” “Her niece? Who?” “Lucia, as we call her,--Edwin and Morcar’s sister,--Hereward’s niece, Torfrida’s niece.” “No pay, no play, saidst thou?--so say I. What meant you by having to kill others before Hereward?” “Beware of Waltheof!” said Ivo. “Waltheof? Pish! This is one of thy inventions for making me hunt every Englishman to death, that thou mayest gnaw their bones.” “Is it? Then this I say more. Beware of Ralph Guader!” “Pish!” “Pish on, Lord King.” Etiquette was not yet discovered by Norman barons and earls, who thought themselves all but as good as their king, gave him their advice when they thought fit, and if he did not take it, attacked him with all their meinie. “Pish on, but listen. Beware of Roger!” “And what more?” “And give me Lucia. I want her. I will have her.” William laughed. “Thou of all men! To mix that ditch-water with that wine?” “They were mixed in thy blood, Lord King, and thou art the better man for it, so says the world. Old wine and old blood throw any lees to the bottom of the cask; and we shall have a son worthy to ride behind--” “Take care!” quoth William. “The greatest captain upon earth.” William laughed again, like Odin’s self. “Thou shalt have Lucia for that word.”