But now Sir Pertolepe, wriggling beneath Beltane's iron foot had unsheathed his dagger, yet, ere he could stab, down upon his red pate crashed the heavy pommel of Beltane's sword and Sir Pertolepe, sinking backward, lay out-stretched in the dust very silent and very still. Then Beltane sheathed his sword and, stooping, caught Sir Pertolepe by the belt and dragged him into the shade of the willows, and being come to the stream, threw his captive down thereby and fell to splashing his bruised face with the cool water. And now, above the shouts and the trampling of hoofs upon the road, came the clash of steel on steel and the harsh roar of Walkyn and Black Roger as they plied axe and sword-- "Arise! Ha, arise!" Then, as Beltane glanced up, the leaves near by were dashed aside and Giles came bounding through, his gay feather shorn away, his escalloped cape wrenched and torn, his broadsword a-swing in his hand.
"Ho, tall brother--a sweet affray!" he panted, "the fools give back already: they cry that Pertolepe is slain and the woods full of outlaws; they be falling back from the village--had I but a few shafts in my quiver, now--" but here, beholding the face of Beltane's captive, Giles let fall his sword, staring round-eyed.
"Holy St. Giles!" he gasped, "'tis the Red Pertolepe!" and so stood agape, what time a trumpet brayed a fitful blast from the road and was answered afar. Thereafter came Roger, stooping as he ran, and shouting:
"Archers! Archers!--run, lord!"
But Beltane stirred not, only he dashed the water in Sir Pertolepe's twitching face, wherefore came Roger and caught him by the arm, pleading:
"Master, O master!" he panted, "the forest is a-throng with lances, and there be archers also--let us make the woods ere we are beset!"
But Beltane, seeing the captive stir, shook off Black Roger's grasp; but now, one laughed, and Walkyn towered above him, white teeth agleam, who, staring down at Sir Pertolepe, whirled up his bloody axe to smite.
"Fool!" cried Beltane, and threw up his hand to stay the blow, and in that moment Sir Pertolepe oped his eyes.
"'Tis Pertolepe!" panted Walkyn, "'tis he that slew wife and child: so now will I slay him, since we, in this hour, must die!"
"Not so," quoth Beltane, "stand back--obey me--back, I say!" So, muttering, Walkyn lowered his axe, while Beltane, drawing his dagger, stooped above Sir Pertolepe and spake, swift and low in his ear, and with dagger at his throat. And, in a while, Beltane rose and Sir Pertolepe also, and side by side they stepped forth of the leaves out into the road, where, on the outskirts of the village, pikemen and men-at-arms, archer and knight, were halted in a surging throng, while above the jostling confusion rose the hoarse babel of their voices. But of a sudden the clamour died to silence, and thereafter from a hundred throats a shout went up:
"A Pertolepe! 'Tis Sir Pertolepe!"
Now in this moment Beltane laid his dagger-hand about Sir Pertolepe's broad shoulders, and set the point of his dagger 'neath Sir Pertolepe's right ear.
"Speak!" quoth Beltane softly, and his dagger-point bit deeper, "speak now as I commanded thee!"
A while Sir Pertolepe bit savagely at his knuckle-bones, then, lifting his head, spake that all might hear:
"Ho, sirs!" he cried, "I am fain to bide awhile and hold talk with one Beltane, who styleth himself--Duke of Pentavalon. Hie ye back, therefore, one and all, and wait me in Garthlaxton; yet, an I come not by sunset, ride forth and seek me within the forest. Go!"
Hereupon from the disordered ranks a sound arose, a hoarse murmur that voiced their stark amaze, and, for a while, all eyes stared upon those two grim figures that yet stood so close and brotherly. But Sir Pertolepe quelled them with a gesture:
"Go!" he commanded.
So their disarray fell into rank and order, and wheeling about, they marched away along the forest road with helm agleam and pennons a-dance, the while Sir Pertolepe stared after them, wild of eye and with mailed hands clenched; once he made as if to call them back: but Beltane's hand was heavy on his shoulder, and the dagger pricked his throat. And thus stood they, side by side, until the tramp of feet was died away, until the last trembling villager had slunk from sight and the broad road was deserted, all save for Cuthbert the esquire, and divers horses that lay stiffly in the dust, silent and very still.
Then Beltane sighed and sheathed his dagger, and Sir Pertolepe faced him scrowling, fierce-eyed and arrogant.
"Ha, outlaw!" quoth he, "give back my sword and I will cope with thee-- wolf's head though thou art--aye, and any two other rogues beside."
"Nay," answered Beltane, "I fight with such as thee but when I needs must. What--Roger!" he called, "go fetch hither a rope!"
"Dog--would ye murder me?"
"Not so," sighed Beltane, shaking his head, "have I not promised to leave thee alive within the greenwood? Yet I would see thee walk in bonds first."
"Ha, dare ye bind me, then? He that toucheth me, toucheth Duke Ivo-- dare ye so do, rogue?"
"Aye, messire," nodded Beltane, "I dare so. Bring hither the rope, Roger." But when Roger was come nigh, Sir Pertolepe turned and stared upon him.
"What!" cried he, jovial of voice yet deadly-eyed, "is it my runaway hangman in very sooth. Did I not pay thee enough, thou black-avised knave? Did I not love thee for thy skill with the noose, thou traitorous rogue? Now, mark me, Roger: one day will I feed thee to my hounds and watch them tear thee, as they have certain other rogues-- aha!--you mind them, belike?"
Pale of cheek and with trembling hands, Roger bound the arms of him that had been his over-lord, while Walkyn and Giles, silent and wide-eyed, watched it done.
"Whither would ye take me?" quoth Red Pertolepe, arrogant.
"That shalt thou know anon, messire."
"How an I defy thee?"
"Then must we carry thee, messire," answered Beltane, "yet thine own legs were better methinks--come, let us begone."
Thus, presently, having forded the brook, they struck into the forest; first went Walkyn, axe on shoulder, teeth agleam; next strode Sir Pertolepe, head high, 'twixt pale-faced Roger and silent Beltane, while the bowman followed after, calling upon St. Giles beneath his breath and crossing himself: and ever and anon Walkyn would turn to look upon their scowling captive with eyes that glared 'neath shaggy brows.
Now after they had gone some while, Sir Pertolepe brake silence and spake my Beltane, proud and fierce.
"Fellow," quoth he, "if 'tis for ransom ye hold me, summon hither thy rogues' company, and I will covenant for my release."
"I seek no ransom of thee, messire," answered Beltane, "and for my company--'tis here."
"Here? I see but three sorry knaves!"
"Yet with these same three did I o'ercome thy foresters, Sir Pertolepe."
"Rogue, thou liest--'tis thing impossible!"
"Moreover, with these three did I, last night, burn down Black Ivo's mighty gallows that stood without Belsaye town, and, thereafter set wide the dungeon of Belsaye and delivered thence certain woeful prisoners, and sent them abroad with word that I--Beltane, son of Beltane the Strong, Duke of Pentavalon, am come at last, bearing the sword of my father, that was wont to strike deep for liberty