And they came to the Castle of Guisnes, and summoned the Count, by trumpet
and herald, to pay or fight.
Whereon, the Count preferring the latter, certain knights of his came
forth and challenged the knights of St. Omer to fight them man to man.
Whereon there was the usual splintering of lances and slipping up of
horses, and hewing at heads and shoulders so well defended in mail that no
one was much hurt. The archers and arbalisters, meanwhile, amused
themselves with shooting at the castle walls, out of which they chipped
several small pieces of stone. And when they were all tired, they drew off
on both sides, and went in to dinner.
At which Hereward's men, who were accustomed to a more serious fashion of
fighting, stood by, mightily amused, and vowing it was as pretty a play as
ever they saw in their lives.
The next day the same comedy was repeated.
"Let me go in against those knights, Sir chatelain," asked Hereward, who
felt the lust of battle tingling in him from head to heel; "and try if I
cannot do somewhat towards deciding all this. If we fight no faster than
we did yesterday, our beards will be grown down to our knees before we
take Guisnes."
"Let my Viking go!" cried Arnulf. "Let me see him fight!" as if he had
been a pet gamecock or bulldog.
"You can break a lance, fine sir, if it please you," said the chatelain.
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