he sweat from him, "here was a good and sweet affray, tall brother--a
very proper fight, _pugnus et calcibus_--while it lasted--"

"Aye," growled Walkyn, spurning a smitten wretch down into the moat,
"'twas ended too soon! Be these all in faith, lord?"

But now upon the air rose shrill cries and piercing screams that seemed
to split the dawn.

"O--women!" cried Giles, and forthwith cleansed and sheathed his sword
and fell to twirling his beard.

"Aha, the women!" cried a ragged fellow, turning about, "'tis their
turn--let us to the women--" But a strong hand caught and set him aside
and Beltane strode on before them all, treading swift and light until
he was come to the chapel that stood beside the banqueting hall. And
here he beheld many women, young and fair for the most part, huddled
about the high altar or struggling in the ragged arms that grasped
them. Now did they (these poor souls) looking up, behold one in
knightly mail stained and foul with battle, yet very young and comely
of face, who leaned him upon a mighty, blood-stained axe and scowled
'neath frowning brows. Yet his frown was not for them, nor did his blue
eyes pause at any one of them, whereat hope grew within them and with
white hands outstretched they implored his pity.

"Men of Pentavalon," said he, "as men this night have ye fought in
goodly cause. Will ye now forget your manhood and new-found honour, ye
that did swear to me upon your swords? Come, loose me these women!"

"Not so," cried one, a great, red-headed rogue, "we have fought to
pleasure thee--now is our turn--"

"Loose me these women!" cried Beltane, his blue eyes fierce.

"Nay, these be our booty, and no man shall gainsay us. How think ye,
comrades?"

Now Beltane smiled upon this red-haired knave and, smiling, drew a slow
pace nearer, the great axe a-swing in his mailed hand.

"Fellow," quoth he, kind-voiced, "get thee out now, lest I slay thee!"
Awhile the fellow glared upon Beltane, beheld his smiling look and
deadly eye, and slowly loosing his trembling captive, turned and strode
out, muttering as he went. Then spake Beltane to the shrinking women,
yet even so his blue eyes looked upon none of them. Quoth he:

"Ye are free to go whither ye will. Take what ye will, none shall
gainsay you, but get you gone within this hour, for in the hour
Garthlaxton shall be no more."

Then beckoning Walkyn he bade him choose six men, and turning to the
women--

"These honourable men sh