Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 62: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

56 on his dusty livery and the seal of the scroll he took from his scrip at sight of the Blue Boar banner flying from the topmost tur- ret. And the priest could read the Latin writ fairly on the scroll. “‘Benedictte, fair son,” he said to Umfra- ville. ‘Mother Church again receives you to her bosom. After mass tomorrow, if it please you, ye may be wed.” “Be assured that it pleases me, good father,”’ shouted Umfraville. He was marvelously restored to good- humor. ‘“’Tomorrow—what day is that?” “Tt is the feast of St. Simeon,” the priest replied. “Tt shall be a feast for sinners as well!” roared the baron. “Let a tun of strong ale be broached and a fat ox be roasted. Look to it, my lovely steward.” CHAPTER XIII DEATH IN THE MURKWOOD HARD, scarred animal of a man, marked with two score years of sin and strife, Aymon de Born sat in his chair as if it had been a saddle, straight and nervously vigilant. Wide jowls, a dow, heavy-boned forehead and red eyes full of flame bore witness to his wicked soul. All these and the sun-baked face of him proved the apt- ness of his nom de guerre—the Brown Bull. Robed in sumptuous scarlet, he made the most of his state in the strong fortalice of High Tower. He played the miniature . king, surrounded by full-mailed men-at- arms. Above Gislac’s old seat, now moved to the dais, a gorgeous canopy of tarnished cloth-of-gold glimmered in the torchlight. Pomp pleased his savage nature. To him glory meant ostentation; power meant the power to hurt. There was a hint of playful menace in the rough hand that caressed his dagger-hilt. His eyes glinted as they strove to stare down the man before him. “How know I this is not a trick?” he asked. His voice rumbled like that of the beast for which he was named. But the visitor gave him stare for stare, answering with a touch of bravado: “The earl mv master is too great to use tricks now. If he wanted your hide, Brown Bull, he would come and take it.” The baron started to his feet, his dag- Adventure ger half-out. As he moved, three of his men-at-arms started forward. But the sol- dier who dared thus risk his anger stood his ground, smiling. “Be prudent, de Born. Richard de Mon- repaire lets no- man of his suffer hurt un- avenged. Think you he sent me here with- out weighing every chance? Nay, he knows your evil temper.”’ With a scowl and a gesture to his war- riors de Born resumed his seat. “Earl or no earl,’ he grumbled, “your master has no right to take such a tone with me. He, Umfraville, and I were all thieves together, till Stephen made him Earl of Ashton and Donnet. Now he lords it over us, commanding us to help him out of all his troubles. Yet if it had not been for us, Richard would never have seen the day when Gislac would not have been a thorn in his flesh. “‘Umfraville and I, not the Reiver, cast the outlaw out of High Tower. Well, say your say. But if it is a trick—I know Richard has never forgiven me for my in- trigue with the Blue Boar—I shall know how to guard myself.” The man from Monrepaire smiled again. “There is no trick,” he said half-con- temptuously, with the arrogance of a vassal who knows himself protected. ‘What Earl Richard asks of you is to your advantage as well as his. It is your tenants and his who have rebelled. Your fields and his lie spoiling, while the laborers who should be swinging the scythe wield bows in the Murkwood. “You must help my lord subdue them, or you will go hungry this Winter. If you fear, I promise you that my lord will act honorably. He is powerful enough to forget your treacherous compact with Umfraville.”’ De Born thought, slowly and painfully. “Speak on,” he said at last. “Good. My Lord Richard’s foresters have pricked the runaway Saxons out of their hiding-places in the forest. They stand at bay, three score in number, on the crest of Lightwood Knoll, which is half- way between Monrepaire and here. To- morrow morn Earl Richard will go out against them, with thirty riders and four score foresters. His men-at-arms will hold the low ground to the west of the crag, while his bowmen scale the ridge, half to the south and half to the north, where the slope is wooded and less steep. Two score COmiclbook CO