little leisure by the labour of
many hands. Now may peace come again, and give us time to cast wreaths
and garlands of fretwork round the sternness of the war-walls, or let
them abide and crumble in their due time. But little avails to talk of
peace as now. Come thou, Red Lad, and join the host of war that
dwelleth within those walls even as peaceful craftsmen and chapmen
dwell in a good town. Lo thou, they fling abroad the White Hart from
the topmost tower: Blow, music, and salute it."

Then all their horns blew up, and they set forward toward the baily of
the castle. And it is said indeed that five thousand men-at-arms,
besides the women and other folk that waited on them, dwelt for the
most part in the House of Longshaw.

So that even was high feast holden in the great hall of Longshaw,
where by Osberne's deeming all was fairer and daintier within even
than without. There was the Red Lad shown to a good place and all
honour done to him, and his lord looked to it that the tales of his
valiancy should be known, so that all thought well of him.

There was but little doing in those months which followed the
home-coming of Sir Godrick, as he was at peace with his neighbours so
to say. But he made Osberne captain over a band of good men, and sent
him on divers errands wherein was some little peril; and in all of
these he did wisely and sped well. Amongst others he went down with
ten tens of men through the Wood and right down to a certain haven on
the Sundering Flood, with the errand of warding chapmen and others who
were bringing many loads of wares for the service of the house. There
then he beheld the great water for the first time since he had left
the Dale, and wondered at its hugeness and majesty; and the sorrow of
his heart stirred within him when he thought how far they two had come
from the Bight of the Cloven Knoll, he and the Sundering Flood. But he
had no leisure to grieve overmuch, and his grief was but as the pain
of a hurt which a man feels even amidst of his deep sleep. Of those
chapmen and others he asked much concerning Elfhild; and they could
tell him many tales of the Red Skinners and their misdeeds, but nought
that seemed to have aught to do with his love. On the way back with
the train of goods, which was great and long-spun-out, a band of the
waylayers laid an ambushment against it, hearing that the leader of
its guard was but a young man new to war. But they were best to have
left it alone, for