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. YOU AREN'T DRESSED WELL FOR SUCH
BRAVERY, FOOTMAN. EVEN FROM HERE I CAN SEE
THE DENTS IN THE ARMOR. I CAN TELL WHERE
YOUR BREASTPLATE IS CRUMPLED AND USELESS,
WHERE MY SWORD WOULD DO THE MOST DAMAGE.
YOUR FEET ARE PROBABLY WRAPPED IN RAGS.
THOUGH THE SNOW IS TOO HEAVY TO TELL FOR
CERTAIN. YET I SUPPOSE THAT SUCH IS THE FINERY
THAT KNIGHTS ISSUE THEIR FOOTMEN.
And they retreated into the thick boles and branches of the
woods, so that they probably did not hear Breca's retort,
which we heard nonetheless, which the footmen heard,
which rode in my ears with its flat and furious blessing as
we approached the gates of the tower:
YOU THINK WE DRESS UP TO KILL HOGS?
Inside the tower gates, dismounting, the breathing and
steam from the horses misting the air, but not as densely as
the snow had misted the air outside, I remember most of all
my sense of relief. Of course we were to learn of the
frailties later, that in its endurance without change and
restoration the tower had become indefensible, but at the
time the walls seemed tall and strong, the fortress
unbreachable. I would imagine, Bayard, that you have heard
the stories, and that in the hearing you have imagined walls
of your own, more vividly than the ones I could describe,
down to the stone upon stone, to the mortar and to the
tightly arranged masonry that permits no mortar, and
perhaps your walls are as accurate, as real as the ones I saw,
because I knew no more of fortresses and their construction
than I did the songs of birds
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