"
Why should he know? Of course because he bore the design himself.
"Who wears it?" said Rodriguez.
"The King of Shadow Valley."
Morano was without curiosity; he did not question good drink; he
sat at the table with a cup of horn in his hand, as happy as
though he had come to his master's castle, though that had not yet
been won.
The sun sank under the oaks, filling the hall with a ruddy glow,
turning the boar spears scarlet and reddening the red faces of the
merry men of the bow.
A dozen of the men went out; to relieve the guard in the forest,
Miguel explained. And Rodriguez learned that he had come through a
line of sentries without ever seeing one. Presently a dozen others
came in from their posts and unslung their bows and laid them on
pegs on the wall and sat down at the table. Whereat there were
whispered words and they all rose and bowed to Rodriguez. And
Rodriguez had caught the words "A prince of the forest." What did
it mean?
Soon the long hall grew dim, and his love for the light drew
Rodriguez out to watch the sunset. And there was the sun under
indescribable clouds, turning huge and yellow among the trunks of
the trees and casting glory munificently down glades. It set, and
the western sky became blood-red and lilac: from the other end of
the sky the moon peeped out of night. A hush came and a chill, and
a glory of colour, and a dying away of light; and in the hush the
mystery of the great oaks became magical.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174