OF THE LORD SPITFIRE’S BESIEGING OF THE WITCHES IN HIS OWN CASTLE OF OWLSWICK; AND HOW HE DID BATTLE AGAINST CORINIUS UNDER THREMNIR’S HEUGH, AND THE MEN OF WITCHLAND WON THE DAY. Lord Spitfire sat in his pavilion before Owlswick in mickle discontent. A brazier of hot coals made a pleasant warmth within, and lights filled the rich tent with splendour. From without came the noise of rain steadily falling in the dark autumn night, splashing in the puddles, pattering on the silken roof. Zigg sat by Spitfire on the bed, his hawk-like countenance shadowed with an unwonted look of care. His sword stood between his knees point downward on the floor. He tipped it gently with either hand now to the left now to the right, watching with pensive gaze the warm light shift and gleam in the ball of balas ruby that made the pommel of the sword. “Fell it out so accursedly?” said Spitfire. “All ten, thou saidst, on Rammerick Strands?” Zigg nodded assent. “Where was he that he saved them not?” said Spitfire. “O, it was vilely miscarried!” Zigg answered, “’Twas a swift and secret landing in the dark a mile east of the harbour. Thou must not blame him unheard.” “What more remain to us?” said Spitfire. “Content: I’ll hear him. What ships remain to us, is more to the purpose. Three by Northsands Eres, below Elmerstead: five on Throwater: two by Lychness: two more at Aurwath: six by my direction on Stropardon Firth: seven here on the beach.” “Besides four at the firth head in Westmark,” said Zigg. “And order is ta’en for more in the Isles.” “Twenty and nine,” said Spitfire, “and those in the Isles beside. And not one afloat, nor can be ere spring. If Laxus smell them out and take them as lightly as these he burned under Volle’s nose on Rammerick Strands, we do but plough the desert building them.” He rose to pace the tent. “Thou must raise me new forces for to break into Owlswick. ’Fore heaven!” he said, “this vexes me to the guts, to sit at mine own gate full two months like a beggar, whiles Corsus and those two cubs his sons drink themselves drunk within, and play at cock-shies with my treasures.” “O’ the wrong side of the wall,” said Zigg, “the master-builder may judge the excellence of his own building.”