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Sybelle stared wide-eyed at Sir Roland's master-at-arms. "Sir Walter went alone?" she echoed. "But it is not safe! We were attacked not far from here, and those who pursued us shouted recognition of his shield. I will not have it! Call out twenty men to arm and saddle." |
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She turned and ran back toward the entrance to the keep, ignoring the cries of the master-at-arms about where the men should go. She did not wish them to leave without her and also did not wish to become involved in the argument she knew would ensue if she said she would accompany them. If there was danger, she was wrong to expose herself, but she could not be sure of that, and to send the men without her, without the excuse that she wished to offer a home and suitable upbringing to Walter's childand even offer sanctuary to Marie, if necessarywould be an inexcusable offense. |
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It took only minutes for Sybelle to tear off her gown and replace it with a riding dress. By the time she came down into the bailey again, Damas was waiting. The groom helped her mount, and she rode to where the men were forming up. The master-at-arms cried out in protest, as she had expected, but she did not answer him, calling out, "Follow me!" and laid her whip on Damas's sleek side so that the mare leapt forward across the drawbridge and out on the track that led down to the road below. |
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Sybelle was light; the mare was fleet and strong. No lesser horse such as those ridden by the men-at-arms had any chance to catch her or to stop her. They knew she was their overlady, that she was prized above any jewel by her parents and grandparents. If ill befell her, worse would befall them. They followed fast and hard, spurring and beating their mounts. The mile along the track that ran between Clyro and Hay flashed by, but there was the river to ford. |
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