Arab countries -- Fiction; Crusades -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Medieval period, 1066-1485 -- Fiction
At the sight of the man a fury took hold of Godwin. With a shout of
warning he drew his sword. Lozelle saw, and out leapt his blade in
answer. Then sweeping past the officers who were with them and reining
up their steeds, in a second they were face to face. Lozelle struck
first and Godwin caught the stroke upon his buckler, but before he
could return it the _fedaïs_ of either party rushed between them and
thrust them asunder.
“A pity,” said Godwin, as they dragged his horse away. “Had they left
us alone I think, brother, I might have saved you a moonlight duel.”
“That I do not want to miss, but the chance at his head was good if
those fellows would have let you take it,” answered Wulf reflectively.
Then the horses began to gallop again, and they saw no more of Lozelle.
Now, skirting the edge of the town, they came to the narrow, wall-less
bridge that spanned the gulf between it and the outer gate and city.
Here the officer wheeled his horse, and, beckoning to them to follow,
charged it at full gallop. After him went the brethren—Godwin first,
then Wulf. In the deep gateway on the further side they reined up. The
captain turned, and began to gallop back faster than he had come—as
fast, indeed, as his good beast would travel.
“Pass him!” cried Godwin, and shaking the reins loose upon the neck of
Flame he called to it aloud.
Forward it sprang, with Smoke at its heels. Now they had overtaken the
captain, and now even on that narrow way they had swept past him. Not
an inch was there to spare between them and the abyss, and the man,
brave as he was, expecting to be thrust to death, clung to his horse’s
mane with terror in his eyes. On the city side the brethren pulled up
laughing among the astonished _fedaïs_ who had waited for them there.
“By the Signet,” cried the officer, thinking that the knights could not
understand, “these are not men; they are devils, and their horses are
goats of the mountains. I thought to frighten them, but it is I who was
frightened, for they swept past me like eagles of the air.”
“Gallant riders and swift, well-trained steeds,” answered one of the
_fedaïs_, with admiration in his voice. “The fight at the full moon
will be worth our seeing.”
Then once more they took the sand-strewn road and galloped on. Thrice
they passed round the city thus, the last time by themselves, for the
captain and the _fedaïs_ were far outstripped. Indeed it was not until
they had unsaddled Flame and Smoke in their stalls that these appeared,
spurring their foaming horses. Taking no heed of them, the brethren
thrust aside the grooms, dressed their steeds down, fed and watered
them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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