castle gambrevault stood out on a great cliff above the sea, like a huge white crown on the country's brow. it was as fine a mass of masonry as the south could show, perched on its great outjutting of the land, precipiced on every side, save on the north. hoary, sullen, stupendously strong, it sentinelled the sea that rolled its blue to the black bastions of the cliffs. landwards, green downs swept with long undulations to the valleys and the woods.

that junetide gambrevault rang with the clangour of arms. the lord flavian's riders had spurred north, east, and west to manor and hamlet, grange and lone moorland tower. there had been a great burnishing of arms, a bending of bows through all the broad demesne. steel had trickled over the downs towards the tall towers of gambrevault. knights, with esquires, men-at-arms, and yeomen, had ridden in to keep feudal faith. the lord flavian had swept the country for a hundred miles for mercenary troops and free-lances. his coffers poured gold. he had pitched a camp in the gambrevault meadows; some fifteen hundred horse and two thousand foot were gathered under his banner.

from the hills cattle were herded in, and heavy wains laden with flour creaked up to the castle. there was much victualling, much blaring of trumpets, much blowing of pennons, much martial stir in the meadows. it seemed as though the lord flavian had a strenuous campaign in view, and there was much conjecture on the wind. the strange part of it was, that none save sir modred had any knowledge for what or against whom they were to fight. it might be john of brissac, gambrevault's mortal enemy; it might develop into a demonstration against the magistracy of gilderoy. blood was to be spilt, so ran the current conviction. for the rest, flavian's feudatories were loyal, and left the managing of the business to their lord.

the men had been camped a week, and yet there was no striking of tents, no plucking up of pennons. sir modred had ridden out to bring in a body of five hundred mercenaries from geraint. the lord flavian himself, with a troop of twenty spears, was lodged for a few days in gilderoy, in the great benedictine monastery, where his uncle held rule as abbot. he was negotiating for arms, fifty bassinets, two hundred gisarmes, a hundred ranseurs, fifty glaives, and a number of two-handed swords. he had found the armourer's guild peculiarly insolent, and disinclined to serve him. he had little suspicion that gilderoy was seething under the surface like so much lava.

thus, while the lord flavian was preparing for his march into the great pine forest, fulviac had completed his web of revolt. he had heard of the gathering at gambrevault, and had hurried on his schemes in consequence. five thousand men were ready at his back. he would gain ten thousand men from gilderoy; seven thousand from geraint. these outlaw levies, free-lances, and train-bands would give him the nucleus of the vast host that was to spring like corn from every quarter of the land. malgo was to head the rising in the west, and to concentrate at conan, a little town in the mountains. in the east, godamar was to gather a great camp in thorney isle amid the morasses of the fens. fulviac would himself overthrow the lords of the south. then they were to converge and to gather strength for the march upon lauretia, proud city of the king.

it would be a great war and a bitter, full of fanatical fierceness and revenge. fulviac had given word to take, pillage, and burn all strong places. destiny stood with wild hands to the heavens, a bosom of scarlet, and hair aghast. if the horde conquered, the seats of the mighty would reek amid flame; there would be death, and a great silence over proud cities.