“My Lady Bertrade and her mother think you be less devil than saint,” said the Prince. “They have told me of how you saved the daughter of De Montfort, and, ever since, I have been of a great desire to meet you, and to thank you. It had been my intention to ride to Torn for that purpose so soon as we reached Leicester, but the Earl changed all our plans by his victory and only yesterday, on his orders, the Princess Eleanor, his wife, with the Lady Bertrade, rode to Battel, where Simon de Montfort and the King are to be today. The Queen also is there with her retinue, so it be expected that, to show the good feeling and renewed friendship existing between De Montfort and his King, there will be gay scenes in the old fortress. But,” he added, after a pause, “dare the Outlaw of Torn ride within reach of the King who has placed a price upon his head?” “The price has been there since I was eighteen,” answered Norman of Torn, “and yet my head be where it has always been. Can you blame me if I look with levity upon the King’s price? It be not heavy enough to weigh me down; nor never has it held me from going where I listed in all England. I am freer than the King, My Lord, for the King be a prisoner today.” Together they rode toward Battel, and as they talked, Norman of Torn grew to like this brave and handsome gentleman. In his heart was no rancor because of the coming marriage of the man to the woman he loved. If Bertrade de Montfort loved this handsome French prince, then Norman of Torn was his friend; for his love was a great love, above jealousy. It not only held her happiness above his own, but the happiness and welfare of the man she loved, as well. It was dusk when they reached Battel and as Norman of Torn bid the prince adieu, for the horde was to make camp just without the city, he said: “May I ask My Lord to carry a message to Lady Bertrade? It is in reference to a promise I made her two years since and which I now, for the first time, be able to fulfill.” “Certainly, my friend,” replied Philip. The outlaw, dismounting, called upon one of his squires for parchment, and, by the light of a torch, wrote a message to Bertrade de Montfort. Half an hour later, a servant in the castle of Battel handed the missive to the daughter of Leicester as she sat alone in her apartment. Opening it, she read: To Lady Bertrade de Montfort, from her friend, Norman of Torn. Two years have passed since you took the hand of the Outlaw of Torn in friendship, and now he comes to sue for another favor. It is that he may have speech with you, alone, in the castle of Battel this night. Though the name Norman of Torn be fraught with terror to others, I know that you do not fear him, for you must know the loyalty and friendship which he bears you. My camp lies without the city’s gates, and your messenger will have safe conduct whatever reply he bears to, Norman of Torn.