Sir Thomas Percy and Sir James Astley had ridden to the head of
the column, and Knolles conferred with them as they marched
concerning the plan of their campaign. Percy and Astley were
young and hot-headed with wild visions of dashing deeds and knight
errantry, but Knolles with cold, clear brain and purpose of iron
held ever his object in view.
"By the holy Dunstan and all the saints of Lindisfarne!" cried the
fiery Borderer, "it goes to my heart to ride forward when there
are such honorable chances on either side of us. Have I not heard
that the French are at Evran beyond the river, and is it not sooth
that yonder castle, the towers of which I see above the woods, is
in the hands of a traitor, who is false to his liege lord of
Montford? There is little profit to be gained upon this road, for
the folk seem to have no heart for war. Had we ventured as far
over the marches of Scotland as we now are in Brittany, we should
not have lacked some honorable venture or chance of winning
worship."
"You say truth, Thomas," cried Astley, a red-faced and choleric
young man. "It is well certain that the French will not come to
us, and surely it is the more needful that we go to them. In
sooth, any soldier who sees us would smile that we should creep
for three days along this road as though a thousand dangers lay
before us, when we have but poor broken peasants to deal with.
Pages:
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348