The fortress was of stone, as solid as if sculpted from the earth itself. Yet there was something peaceful about the quiet look of the place. The water shimmered, and Hal thought he glimpsed treetops within the walls. The manor village was ranged along the riverbank and along a dirt track which crossed a drawbridge to the island castle's tower-flanked gates.

"Tall and serene," Alan agreed.

They turned their attention to the village, which was likely to tell them more than the castle. The cottages seemed snug, and the yards were neatly kept. Apparently the lord of Celydon gave his folk the time they needed to look after their own affairs.

82 THE SILVER SUN.

Suddenly Alan whistled. "Am I blind, Hal, or do I miss seeing a gallows?"

It was so. Never before had they seen a manor village where the gallows was not prominently placed. There were no whipping posts, either, no branding pit, stocks or pillory. Even in Alan's beloved Laueroc a gallows bad stood, though only once in his memory had it been used, to hang a murderer. But here was a manor that threat- ened no harm to any soul.

It was a risk, riding into a strange manor. No one would know or care if they never came back out of those iron-sheathed gates. But warmth and food, and perhaps a sense of fate, drew them. With a wondering glance, Hal and Alan rode down the hill toward Celydon.

Chapter One.

The two travelers were surprised to be greeted by the empty street and dark cottages of Celydon. And they were startled anew when a blaze of fire shot up on a hill- top beyond the castle. One by one, wherever the land was open, the summits bloomed into flame. The new- comers had been living in isolation so long that it was a moment before they understood the fires.

"Hal," Alan exclaimed, "it must be the eve of Novem- ber!"

It was indeed the time of the ancient festival of the dead, one of the four quarter-days of the turning year, when in the perilous transition of time all things of Other pass freely to the world of men and must be held off by fire. On the eve of May, the half-day, cattle were driven between the fires to charm them against harm or disease; and on the eve of November the slaughtered cattle were offered to placate the dead into repose during the dark winter months. There would be a feast while the fires raged.

Hal and Alan rode across the drawbridge to find the gates of Celydon fortress open, and folk thronging in the courtyard, awaiting the circling dance. They noted at once how healthy the people looked, how they were well

64.

Celydon 85

though plainly dressed, and no maimed victims among them, as were to be found at many manors. All eyes were turned with curiosity upon the young riders, and a few smiled a welcome. The old gatekeeper met them and cour- teously asked them their business.

"We come to request a boon of your lord," answered Hal, "but it seems he must be engaged."

The man shook his head. "He will turn no stranger from his door unanswered. Go see him now, and I shall hold your horses."

"Let no one touch the gray, or come too near," Hal cautioned, "for he is trained to know no hand but mine."

In the keep a page showed them the way to Lord Pelys's chamber. He sat in a comfortably furnished room overlooking the crowded courtyard, reading a book near the window. He was a small, shrunken man, with wispy gray hair and beard; yet his face was hardly lined, and his eyes were sharp and piercing, like those of a bird of prey.

"My lord," Hal began as they entered, but the lord in- terrupted faun at once, impatiently.

"Now, now, come over here and let me look at you in the light, and I warrant I'll answer your question faster than you can ask it. So," Pelys said as they drew near the window, "tanned with a year's sun and wind, and worn with travel and weather. A bit pale under the tan;

have you not been well, hah?"

"Nay, my lord," Hal began, but he was cut off again. **You're a handsome pair of rogues. Brothers, hah?"

"In a manner of speaking, my lord," Hal answered.

smiling.

"In a manner of speakingi Tell me plainly, are you brothers or not?"

"Only by pledge, my lord."

"Tush! I would have sworn you were brothers! Ay, but of course you are nearly the same age-about twenty?"

"Younger, my lord. We are both seventeen."

The little man's bushy eyebrows raised until they nearly touched his hair. "Never have I been so mistaken! Well, well, then give me the hands, and we'll see if I can do better."

They extended their right hands. "Nay, nay, both of them, it tells more so," he exclaimed, and, examining their callused palms, he looked up with respect in his eyes. He

86 THE SILVER SUN.

spoke more slowly. "These have known the hoe, the scythe, the ax and other tools. They have also known the sword and the quarterstaff. Yours," he went on, laying a finger on Hal's brown thumb, "have known the bow also.

But one thing here puzzles me greatly. What is this?" He pointed at the small scar on each left wrist.

Hal and Alan glanced at each other and smiled, but Hal spoke a little sadly. "My lord, I cannot tell you."

"Cannot or will not, hah?" he snorted, then suddenly pierced Alan with his gaze. "What of you, bah? Cat got your tongue?"

''Nay, my lord," Alan answered, startled, but had no need to say more. The little man leaned back, regarding them with sudden mellowness. "So, so, what you came to ask. You look a bit washed out, you two, by the rain, and knocked about by the wind, and pinched by the cold.

You are welcome to stay here as long as you like. Join us for the feast tonight, but you must sleep where you can; all the beds are filled. In a few days, when my guests have gone home, I shall speak with you again. Is that what you wanted, bah? Food, warmth and rest?"

They told him that indeed it was, and were trying to express their gratitude when the air was rent by the sound Hal most dreaded-Arundel's angry scream. He turned and fled headlong down the stairs, with Alan on bis heels.

As they fought their way across the crowded and tumultu- ous courtyard, they could see Arundel searching for es- cape from a young man who followed close after him. He was soon cornered in the buttress of a wall, and turned at bay against the stranger who hounded him. He reared as far back as be could, avoiding the outstretched hand, and as the youth took yet another step toward doom, Arundel struck him in the chest with his forefeet, sending him sprawling. He reared again, but Hal faced him, com- manding "Nelte, Arun, nay!" Alan dragged the youth to safety, and the horse stood sweating and trembling as Hal petted him gently. "Alle," he murmured, "idle, Arundel."

["Softly, softly, Arundel."}

"Is he hurt, Alan?" Hal asked, but even as be spoke the youth roughly threw off Alan's anxious hands and sprang to his feet. "That horse attacked me!" he cried. "X demand-"

"He seems all right, Hal," Alan remarked, straight- faced.

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"I will have satisfaction!" the young man blustered.

"Silence, Rate," commanded a voice which, though not loud, at once drew the attention of all. Everyone looked up at Lord Pelys in his window. The old gatekeeper spoke.

"My lord, the young gentleman instructed me to let no one touch the horse, but Rafe would not listen. Nor did the horse strike him until he gave it no other choice."

"Thank you, Bonar," said Lord Pelys. "I give this or- der: no one in my household is to touch this horse without the permission of its master. Rafe, report to your duties, and in future keep your hands off things that do not con- cern you."

Hal sighed, and glanced at Alao, then said what he felt he must. "My lord, we bring trouble to your abode.

We had better leave."

"Nonsense," snapped Pelys. "Take your horses to the stable, and see them cared for. I think you will have time to wash before dinner."

Friendly hands picked up the baggage that Arundel had scattered in his frenzy, and the gatekeeper directed them to the stable. There they introduced Arundel to the head groom and some of his staff. Flann was a quick man, neither old nor young, who could only be described as having "horse sense." He soon had Arundel rubbed dry, fed and bedded in the stall next to Alfie, though this required some rearranging. He chattered cheerfully and insultingly to both horses while he worked. Hal and Alan could not keep from helping, so the horses were quickly cared for.

"Never fear, they will be well kept here," Flann said, smiling into their anxious eyes. "Nor will your mettle- some gray be troubled. When my Lord Pelys chooses to command, he is obeyed. He uses no tortures to enforce his will, but all his folk love him so well that if Rafe were to defy him no one would speak to him for weeks. So be easy about your horse. And as for this slab-sided hay chomper here," he added, slapping Alfie affectionately, "he shall be well fed."

Alan laughed. "How did you know he loves to eat?"