Chapter IV

 The years passed beautifully past the family of the Earl of Birmingham and his young son, he became a young blond man, with some hair scattered and combed with difficulty by little servants of the earl's son, some young men carefully chosen to take care of the novice knight, though he trained very much, he liked to fight with those of his age, the sword spun quite well, the crossbow was often used in his hunts with the king's court, but the monarch was absent, for lack of power, in his bed and his son led as much as he could. perhaps good for his early youth and his delicate mustache, for he was far too young to be a strong sovereign, though King Henry was nearing his end, and the fever only restrained him to death, a pain leaped over his ribbed shoulders, and under the watchful eyes of the ferns, dazed by the sharp turn, he looked astonished, so that after a shiver ran through the skinny body of the old monarch, he gave up his spirit and remained with his eyes open like a living mummy, but Stiff, the bed showed the chaos in which the dying man had writhed, and at last he lay with his eyes down on the edge of the bed, one hand outstretched to a heavenly helper in his afterlife.

In an hour all London learns of the death of the Lancastrian king, lightning for the permanence of the city, a long and crowded funeral convoy crossed the last road, a last path, surrounded by people and soldiers, young and old, children and mothers, young and old beggars who were pitied by the mourning bags of the courtiers, a tearful roar accompanied the procession, and palms rose everywhere, stretched out toward the black chariot, showing the despair of the crowds to touch it, one last wish for such intense despair, in the sad and thoughtful procession. the black cloak trampled melancholy and sad at his own work, the count spasmodically clutching the hilt of the sword at his hip, the velvet pleats and the pearly and sparkling diamond cross in the blinding light of day, though the clouds did not seem too quiet and a thunder scattered the mirror of the sky, like a flash of light and a light rain, set off in a whistling wind, the procession continuing on its way to Westminster Abey, while unleashed voices drove away in a fiery boil, and only the string that still held a holy respect for a king did not leave the coffin of the one whom the world had spread all sorts of tricks before the Lancastrian king shone in his face, as he wished. to the father, the son will continue what the founder did, that the new Tudor family will continue to ascend and descend freely from the throne, of course he will not be a beautiful and motionless pharaoh, like a natural masterpiece, but stiff and beaten nailed by the weight of her vices, after the burial of the king, the two servants of the dome anointed as soon as possible the new Henry, Prince of Wales, Caterine rejoices to be in the laws of marriage in the position of queen she held out a feeble hand to her husband's, and out of respect bowed her head like a servant worthy of all commandments, a melodious song resounded in all the ships, and a jolt shook the whole crowd, it was the thrill of joy, the new king he himself enjoyed a flourishing esteem while his three-legged predecessor in a marble-clad pit listened to him in spite of himself, though life had withered into him, yet the tomb was tightly closed, so when he wanted to shout that he is also the monarch, they were all stiff and stiff, their tongues and mouths, and then he was silent like his predecessors.

Henry came to the throne, began to be a bit harsh, two of his father's ministers were imprisoned for treason and their ridiculous antics, moved his house from the Tower of London, which made the prison of mad aristocrats and so after sending many to work forced, she thought that with more enemies, she would have to have so many faithful defenders, a few vassals with principles of battle, the first in the chronicle of his reign had been the Earl of Birmingham, who out of good friendship he gave the title of Marquis of Derby and so the Marquis enjoyed the new privilege of beginning the construction of a castle near Gray on the new estate near London, which encompassed the entire river Thames to the estuary, becoming the constable of Dover Castle, such kindness astonished him. many Spanish princes came from the Spanish king to spend the wedding as respectful gentlemen and as a permanent guard on Catherine of Aragon.

 Dixon, the son of the Marquis of Derby, began to grow up and began to dress in chain armor, so at his age his father did not really want to make him an armor, he had money for a blacksmith, but he did not have another son. to wear it like that when his son will be a young man skilled in fighting, then he will sacrifice his fortune to make him famous, for now it was far too novice to teach him too much, so when Henry's two ministers.

In the seventh century they were executed, Dixon looked intently at the scaffolding and crooked features of the two traitors, and his father put his hand to his eyes as the sharp puddle rose and a whistling whistle killed the culprit, and Dixon expressed his displeasure. relentless irony that the first warrior to cover his eyes at a man killed by another's hand, to which the count looked unhappily, but mastered himself in time because Henry the Younger bared his teeth and began to laugh lustfully, spreading an air of festive amusement .

"Never humiliate me like that again, ungrateful son, what are you!"

And Dixon left the drawing-room he had entered only to take away his awful sadness, now an imaginary serenity took its place, and his eyebrows arched merrily, and his eyes were no longer faded as before, but were brightly lit.

We must admit that the almost gloomy and melancholy carving would have turned the thoughts of a passer-by on the Marquis' son, walked peacefully among wild roses, and sometimes smelled a flower at the thought of his father's words, it must have been a good seed in this fertile land. , to be guided in this way and from time to time he was on the scales, he was a teenager, however the marquis imposed silence on the cavalry, the folds of the cape were something expensive in a world where the trade in sheepskin was the only branch with which many earned the bread, not every man could be shown such a great and brilliant Fortune, full of victory and very seeded, was a shining goblet of wine which if the master would not drink it at the feast and would return later to empty it and- he will poison him, because envious diners had poured his temper on his hem and thus died like a hungry mouse, so Dixon's life was a jewel without certain rings and if the stones didn't r be united now, they will be lost in years to come, the virtue of youth is like the flight of a dove in the nest, lazy and lazy or fast, like lightning that has not finished like a pupil its only bird trait.

Dixon, though still in his peace, had been struck by a wave of parental pleas, and finally asked them to speak firmly of his decision, so in the middle of a cool afternoon, when the marquis liked to read or read. writes his poetic works and Mrs. Mary to give her life for a restful sleep, a persistent knock knocking on the door and in the light of the candles bathing the room in a bright background, the young son dressed in a black cape and a white suit with silver, scattering a pure gray with the brandenburgs on the cape that intensely beautified the halo of the sad departure

 "Dad, I decided, an inner voice tells me I have to go, here next to you would be a misfortune, to lose a path barely lit by and guiding, please forgive me that my departure will not smile so well, but of the flowers of the lily and of the apple I must be as courteous and masterful as the great marquis my father is, above all I will miss you and then this castle where I spent my first years, one thing that is the most important and more decisive is the parental blessing."

Poor mother, she bends her knees, while the Marquis, half-turned with his hand in his hand, turns to his son, stunned, pale with pain.

The mother clasped her hands together and said in fear;

  "You leave us, how will you be able to leave so overwhelming when you see with what pallor he spreads on our faces, you are the only one, the only one who can still listen to a wish of ours, you came here to inspire a fear of the inept, ever like a great nobleman, a son rejoices his ancestral people with deeds, you leave like a naive in an unknown world, where you will only lay your cloak to sleep ..."

It was Dixon's turn to fade, it was a life of danger, and not as glamorous as he had imagined, so despair seized him and he began to tremble.

 "This cape, how does this garment ...?"

And he picked up a wrinkled corner of his black cloak at random, and twisting his end like a rag, he began to read an infernal rage on his wrinkled forehead.

  "Yes, you will sleep on the grass, tired of the roads, tired of riding, and then it will be too late, too late!"

Dixon turned to his livid father, and pleaded with his eyes for a benevolent salvation, he did not like his mother's tone, he found only arrogance and despair, he did not need this but something encouraging to guide his father's counsel, and that and how the father understood his son's help or took a commanding attitude that forced everyone to be silent;

  "Don't scare me, my son is old enough to prove that he will leave us, he will become a man in all his nature, who will force him to overcome in all the chaff of the world and his yard with his ifos, a good blade will be hard to find on earth, because their makers are just as rare, the ear of wheat always bears fruit every year after the hard work of the sower, chooses the best path, there are others besides it, but who does not know that man on earth is transient and all he does is a testimony of his passing journey just like my son who does not throw away the bait, there even his new frogs fall, my blessing to guide you in everything, but not in mistakes, like persevering in mistakes, means you would grow your skin to death, and peace be with you!"

And the Marquis of Derby touched, touched the child's head, and kissed him on the forehead, while his mother calmed down, giving him a beneficent kiss, and Dixon came out singing a sacrificial poem merrily, then mounted a white stallion and on his forehead. of the ten horsemen came out of the gates of London with a benevolent smile, and following the course of the river, his dawn reached Rochester, whence he would follow the river Meda, and through his valley he would cross the ridges of the hills to Madison where he would end his journey there. being the castle of the traveling knight, and there he would spend years of apprenticeship, though he was known everywhere, it had been difficult for him to pass through the dangerous valley of the river, where the evil thieves were said to kill passers-by from the horror he inspired. having the face painted in blue like Celtic warriors, killing with the very frightening puddle, from that valley of the river was the dead pass, and the courage of this child, overcame the cowardly fear of the travelers stopped by the strait names at the end them, and he thought in every way to get rid of the filth of tyrants

 The horses of the others stopped, near the sharp cliffs, and bowing as if at the sight of a frightful monster they raised their front legs and turned back, these beasts had a sense of their own that scared to death like moon dogs, this meadow was something cursed and you could tell in advance that you could die like a dog.

Of the ten young men, only two sacrificed their swords for their masters, and Dixon at the age of seventeen armed himself with a very large bow with which he could crush armor, iron heads like blades protruding like sharp thorns that served wonderfully. the master in distress, a quiver caught in the saddle of the saddle gave him enough security to gallop the archer, and at a great trot they entered the valley of the dead, no doubt for a moment that they could be caught in the water, by a barbarian onslaught, so they near the muddy reed, exploring the swampy ground, though the horses were resting, the three horsemen kept their peace, so that the animal also breathed the same vague hope that death could not surprise them so easily.

After an hour, the path and meadow narrowed, revealing that the rocky wall was becoming very steep, and unsettling echoes caught the light breeze, at one point a rumble of shouts mingled with the muffled hiss of the wind, the animals became agitated as riders. He drew his shields and swords, and Dixon hurried a long arrow into his bow, but they continued on their way faster, stallions trotting and snorting in fear, as if a crowd of crows were spinning above their heads, but the sky was clear and cloudless, it is always known that after something good, the danger comes, when a spear was inserted in the shield of a rider, everyone turned their eyes to enter there, an ugly man in the face, screaming chanting a battle cry, Dixon knew that such parades are accompanied of blood, he stretched out his bow and strings, and suddenly the singer lost his voice and fell into the cradles of the rocks.

 "Now, we have to get out of here in a hurry, his ants must come out of some hiding place!"

And the horses seemed to drift away in astonishment, when a horde rose behind them, howling and roaring, Dixon was right that he could block the way to kill the passers-by, now they had to face off in a stormy battle.

Dixon was shooting with a bow and a horse with a rider, they were all rolling in a deadly collapse, barbarians were throwing spears, they did not have the same fighting spirit as pursuers, who fought over power yet one more skilful hit one of Dixon's brave soldiers, they were a young monk who had sacrificed his life for Dixon's, standing like a human shield between the barbarian sults and the young son of the Marquis of Derby. and with pride often encountered in such savages, he took out his baltag to strike the marquis's son, but he was preparing to throw his weapon in a fatal balance, but the little boy's arrow went before him and an eye was pierced by the rod of iron, so the weapon fell on the horse's rump or the mad animal fell to the ground with it, writhed shouting;

  "Cursed be the son of the heathen god who helps you!"

 A loose arrow put an end to the commotion and Dixon shouted in mockery.

  "Believer and cunning barbarian, in a fight sacrifice your barbarism elsewhere, not on the head of three defenseless horsemen!"

 The brothers of the pagan master river began to curse the worthy archer and got closer and closer to the two fighters, one old and weak, and the other a powerless boy, the bow was still killing, but now the fight will become serious, and they had to face the other four, remaining on horseback from all that savage and mocking horde, were only ten paces away from the last robbers and horseman.

 Dixon let the bow slide into the quiver of arrows, and drew his freshly painted white shield and sword to the best of his ability. the marquis's son, and he remained silent as usual waiting for a spear to pierce his chest, and death always smiled at him in frightful dreams, the close battle became dangerous, biting his sword for the marquis, and he saved his own, Dixon surrounded by three evildoers, he could scarcely defend himself stubbornly, with an astonishing prowess, pierced the forehead of one, and the point of the shield pierced the snout of a horse with torn sleeves, struck the last one in the temple, and with a lively rush pierced his dagger. the coast of the fourth bandit, rescuing the old man and on horseback, they arrived at Madison in the evening, exhausted, they passed the great danger of the road, and the old man no longer saves Dixon from the praises of an old gentleman. n

 "You are still a child, and I have never seen such a talent, and courage is worth saying, not in vain I dreamed of having in my old age such a childish master but good at the sword as well as the brush!"

They stopped at a street corner to ask about the knight's castle about the journey, while the old man talked to a beggar, who for lack of money did the services of any gentleman with a noble girl. more than ten leagues and the master comes only at the end of the cold autumn, we should understand that three days had passed since they had left London, and Dixon found no choice but to send a letter to his father, but couriers on horseback they appeared in time for two weeks, so they had to think of another way.

"We should go to the butler of the castle and show him this letter from the Marquis of Derby. that we had would be a rest, and tomorrow at sunrise let's go to the fair, and buy you some ordinary clothes, and see if the meadow Meda has not changed its name into a peaceful one and look for the sacrificial chaplain, to bring him to the city to be buried, and now to stay another hour and at dusk to go to the castle!"

 Both the old man and the child put their swords in their scabbards, and on horseback they set off easily for an inn where they could eat at will, though they served lunch at Rochester Castle, where the steward owed his master's kindness to his son's hospitality. and on leaving he did not forget to exchange them with stallions, but again nine men and a child, only three of the bravest crossed the rocks with fear in their bones, and all the power they used with all danger, made them weaken, so that now the two guests were content to leave their horses at the gate, in the care of the stableman, and to sit breathlessly, the innkeeper, of course, a man unsteady in deeds and full of quarrels, to the same temptations of his own, as he drowned others, though the old Thomas Vierone, who had swollen his legs from the hostile road of the journey, and with his white beard spread over the buffalo-skin cloak with the sword hanging in the shackles at Copșa , smiling, showing his white teeth and sometimes stroking the few strands of his chin, barely shaved, some long hair of his grandfather covered his temples and sweats, moistening his forehead dripped from the brow, sat down at the table not a little special face of the others, his sword looks like that of a gentleman who wanted in the face of an unworthy world, a little esteem and respect, and he could bow his head to any boyar, and greet him in his own way, Mr. Vierone sat down at a table from, a corner so that it could still encompass the whole hall, it was a favorite corner for watchmen who disliked the drunken quarrels, and Dixon prudently kept with him the bow and arrows, with the inscriptions of the Marquis of Derby.

An ugly servant with a crooked face, who had taken part in the game of the few purple chefs pouring wine into glasses, approached old Vierone with a fake smile, the gentleman of the nation withdrew for silence in the corners and spoke in whispers, with their ears on the mad merriment of the few researchers at the feast, and the innkeeper's servants held their merriment in full with the bottles of wine perishing until they emptied on the table, the clay jugs in anger were broken in a noisy din, and the trumpets sounded songs and trumpets of the mother of fire, the gift of the one who worships his glass in honor of his noblest friends.

 Old Vierone expected much from such a perindau until they emptied on the table, the clay jugs in anger were broken in a loud din, and the trumpets sang and trumpeted the mother of fire, the gift of the one who worshiped his glass. in honor of the noblest friends.

rude and treacherous servants so take a look at the most stinging he imagines best to his mortal enemies

The woman grimaced at them and brought the two a rusty iron tray on which were placed a pitcher with a cracked lip and two slightly chipped cups, and smilingly placed on the table the tray, at which the old swordsman looked with troubled eyes at the pitcher and at the servant, while the woman returned satisfied with her back to the table, and Mr. Thomas did not know who to look at.

 "Look, woman, I need a meal of wine from Rochester and I fought and I want nothing more than a hot dinner, I would be content with a bowl of soup, but it makes my stomach in various ways his and you you linger in vain beside the gentlemen there, while with a few shillings I pay for your meal!"

The wine men, hearing Vierone's words, made hostile faces, and one growled fiercely, one approached to whisper resolutely to this hungry guest.

If Vierone knew who was the source of those individuals, he would run away as long as he could, but he contented himself with looking at them for a moment and then turned to think further about the table with which he would be served, he did not touch the jug and seeing as nothing moved, he leaned against the table and shouted loudly;

 "My dinner is proof of your impudence, I will serve you as a gentleman with a pair of palms and then ..."

  "Shut up old man, you escaped to the river in the meadow, but now you will know how to die like a coward .... !" As the bald ones threw their clothes after them and exposed the puddles, they were wild in Meda's meadow and now they wanted to continue the conflict started in that wilderness and smiling like skilled bastards waving their weapons in crazy giggles and laughter, Vierone took out the sword stood guard and looked around questioningly to see the child, but seeing no one grab the sword handle and looked hostilely at the seven fierce masks, Dixon unnoticed hid behind a table, and with the bow ready he followed the storm between the robbers and the old man was not very good, and yet he would not escape so easily, and the eyes of the most daring, who seemed to set fire to all the masquerade, wore a gold chain round his neck and a chain of armor covered his chest. so this stakes He smiled in horror, glared at the few friends, and tossed the puddle to Vierone's head, who understood all of the menacing eye movement.

 The ax plunged deep into the wall, and the murderer, immediately realizing the danger, realized that life was at stake, and grabbing the knife from its scabbard, he jumped at the old man, an imperceptible sound was heard, and an arrow shot out. somewhere, and the robber struck in the chest, he looked disgustingly over his head, and with a twist of his body he fell on his back dead, out of breath.

 Vierone, who knew the secrets of this blow, smiled haughtily and without moving a finger, struck a man hard, and with the edge of his sword lay about two on the ground, who struck their head or forehead in the fall of a table, and struck so faintly. on the floor.

 The other three, surprised by such a meltdown, stepped aside with the axes turned with the blade towards the nape of the neck, ready to throw at Vierone at any time, if he sat down in the desired targets of their skill, the old man leaned under a table and knocked it down he rolled to his knees, and Thomas, attacking him, thrust the tip into his shoulder, and as he rose to his feet his fear was painted, the two and the last threw their axes at him, the old man fell in a flash, but the bandits attacked unarmed, the poor man had time to kill one of the two, but the other sat behind him, and like lightning he killed Thomas in the back of the head, the old man fell to his knees, then fell inert with his forehead on the ground, died with his sword in hands defending themselves from the tyranny of a few good hangman savages.

 At the moment of Vierone's death, a slight step caught the robber's attention, he turned his gaze there, noticed Dixon holding his bow there, snatched the corpse's sword from beside him, and threw himself madly in a hopeless run, but collapsed dead at in the middle of the room, an arrow pierced his forehead and he died instantly.

He went into the middle of the corpses and looked at the old man, then took his letter and the few gold ducats he had in a belt bag, took Vierone's sword, looked at it carefully, wiped it with blood. piece of cloth and put it on his belt, showing it to his father, the Marquis of Derby when he returned this sword, which had always served him, sat on the vine and took the chain of the captain, who had not yet died, and fainted terribly, snatched the arrow from his rib and put it in the quiver among others, on the gold chain hung a piece of gold in the shape of circle, and on it could be read a name and an initial, 'Crilon. A. ''

Dixon stared at the surface of this circle for a long time and looked at the dying man's ugly hoop, put his chain in his pocket, left the inn, stopped and thought a little about himself, then went to the stable to pick up the most beautiful chestnut and climb up. he set off without his brave and old companion, spurred his horse, and set out out of the city very determined, beyond Madison lay a ravine of a dried-up river, and if no stream followed. its road, nature put the seal and the grass and weeds covered this whole valley, below, a bridge, used as a road over the water rose like a guard over the years, now it was a pass that eased the way of travelers and began to collapse, in the absence of water they lose their great role, and if the valley is dry, the reciters no longer use it as pasture was now a suitable place for the city's stallions, and great performances became common on this plain, Dixon did not hesitate to cross the valley, but a small beggar The skinny man went out to ask for alms, Dixon's horse growled, and the boy stopped to examine the poor man's face in more detail, and with a gesture he gripped the stallion's reins tightly and asked the old man in a calm voice.

  "You would be content with a few coins .....!" but the poor man on the ground began to clap loudly at the sound of such a soft speech.

  "But now I need a guide, do you know the way to the gentleman's castle from the trip, in exchange for the few shillings?" at that time only a few shillings were of significant value in a townsman's bag, and the old man spoke hoarsely, trying to cough to make his voice heard, and spoke, pointing a hand over the stone bridge;

 "Thank you very much sir, follow the road before and after a forest the road narrows becoming steep, on a rocky slope is the castle of his seniority!" and the boy, taking care to pay his debt, threw a bag of a few ducats of silver at him, and galloped away into the distance, crossing the stone bridge, while the beggar rubbed his palms and opened the bags in which he found the three ducats of silver. he exclaimed in surprise as if he had found a box full of money;

 " Good master, and he was just a child, but honestly I forgot to ask his name, but he was certainly the son of a gentleman with rank, a sly attitude, a shiny sword, and a black stallion, maybe he says he comes from hunting, and I would go to work and become someone, but these omitted ones from the city will be journeymen with cut angles and combed hair!

And the outcome of the poor poor man ended terribly, putting his head between his knees and weeping for pity like a man without life.

 Dixon saw with great embarrassment that at one point a crossroads appeared in his path, and as he had received the direction from the beggar, he followed the road forward without looking back if the road was wrong, or if the sign was bad, though he did not like it. deceived, travelers still gloomy, after an hour of hurried trotting, a steep slope prevented him from seeing, he climbed the first cliffs and thought to turn back or chase forward, although the sunset was drying more and more brightly over the fields, he understood that he had only an hour until dusk, and with a broken heart, he continued up the narrow path, though the road did not seem safe, Dixon struggled to keep his composure, without the ten companions he had lost in the stops. the journey feels very deserted, and put in the clutches of any passer-by with a limp face.

 After riding long enough for an evening, he noticed a heavy stone where a little-understood word was carved, but with a sigh the poor boy understood that on the top of a hill was the lord's mansion, so with an impulse he spurred his horse, and he made his way to the castle, after a while the sharp towers began to be seen, and the gloomy battlements completed the architecture with small sculptures at the edges of the wall, although the castle was inhabited, outside it looked like a grand ruin, small plants covered the space between the bricks. a thick layer of moisture covered the stones of the wall, Dixon stopped when the road ended its guiding mission to the palace, a long and high bridge connected the entrance to the castle and the lower peak, where the stone road was visible, the rider was stunned by the precipice and of the astonishing length of the bridge, the knight of the journey did not return, and the person who knew him best was missing, and the castellan was always a man. I knock in my robe, looking at you in amazement when he sees you so bewildered and confused, he doesn't see you with very good eyes under the gate with the two wings, outdated and chipped.

The little boy ingested his heart, and with a few thoughts running through his mind like a wild echo, he decided to cross the height of the bridge, which frightened him greatly with its architectural grandeur, so with a rather unsettling murmur he began to climb the perforated pavement. of the water flowing in the heavy rains, the stallion's hooves made a loud noise, especially as in the evening power, the sentries sounded strange to the idea that such a bold visitor asks the host overnight.

And through the towers a torch perished either at the window or at the door, in a moving dance that usually made a desperate murmur to those who heard it, the truth is true the little rider did not look at the height of the towers, which the night light eclipsed almost half their fantastic height, the horse finally stopped, and Dixon stared intently as the wooden bridge was raised, and if he took two more steps he would have gone empty on the rocky ridges, where only the dead could hear the corpse groan. .

He stopped, thinking how to make himself known to the people of the castle, and, raising his voice, shouted; although his voice was already tired, his chest still struggled to tighten and swell like the bag of a gentleman of rank, after a few moments after a voice fell silent the silence of the rocks;

 "Whoever has the courage to shout or howl in the power of the night, like a wolf and be called Dixon of Derby, the marquis does not suffer such masks as his sons!"

Putin would have passed again, but he would see her face, but as the night was dark and foggy, he did not understand anything by talking only to an unseen spirit, and he wanted to retreat from the wall, but a quiet answer spoke from the gate. .

 "Ah, supervisor, if my name is the Marquis' son, and there's no evidence, then get this arrow and crown your suspicion with a sincere and true one, don't overheat your thoughts, a poor son won't play tricks on you so much , so that it ends, in this abyss!"

 And the child took the bow and strapped it in such a way as to stab him cruelly, while the man withdrew his head behind a parapet, to collapse into a pool of blood, to the laughter of others who would throw him into the dead rocks, an arrow pierced the wall and the guard grabbed it without wasting a moment, with his head hanging from the wall, and hid, and took shelter, like a hunted rabbit.

 Dixon really had a quiver full of arrows with the inscription of the marquis, and as many as had not learned of his great wealth, only the road and the wanderings made his son a masked man, and a fur hunter, money at that time was made by striking, killing, and not a little did not cross his mind, to the guard that, a race is being prepared, to which he only dies and offer a supreme relief, so at his cries the castle garrison awoke and swordsmen ran to the gate with swords, to make him to invite the guest to the tip of a spear.

The bridge was lowered and a lot of flames appeared in the darkness of the night, the soldiers seeing only a skinny filfizon, waiting for his servants to come out, they put themselves on guard, ready to fight, but they thought that the lord was in his, they started to give each one a great blow, although the marquis's son was not surprised to find himself in a battle of bravery, he had an answer to every blow.

A shrill, hoarse voice called to him from the height of the tower;

"Teach yourself, dog, how long are you going to look at these torches, show your face!"

Dixon, who was dressed from head to toe in chains, wore a grand helmet with white feathers on his back, wore a white cape with his heraldic insignia, a gold chain hung around his chest, and in the middle shone the sheath. with silver, he wore these clothes so great that it was known in advance that not every man had tried to look like Mr. of Derby, Dixon did not hesitate to come out of the shadows into the light and with his sword in his hand came out in front of all who crossed.

 "A gentleman !?"

"Holy God, who imagined such a thing!"

A more handsome man broke away from the ranks of the soldiers and shook his hand briskly, asking;

 "Who do I have the honor to talk to?"

  "With Dixon of Portsmouth, the son of the Marquis of Derby, thank you for your hospitality, a very handsome guard, he could not crown my entrance here, too bad I arrived so late, I hope to delight you with my few tired greetings !"

Although people around him had believed him to be an ordinary gentleman, who came as a visitor to the Castilian business, still a lot of gaping mouths had uttered some cheers, which made the castle gate resemble the entrance of Henry VII coming from the battle of Bosworth, with triumph and fala, but the Earl of Portsmouth, who secretly hid his name in the court of the young king, became the newest news of the time, and aroused a Homeric murmur among the soldiers at the traveling castle.

The castellan cursed at the knight in front for a while, then had to calm down when he saw the cloak hanging behind him, although he was only an eleven-year-old count, Dixon did not place much value on his rank or title, royal courts, although the king, already seeing support in this boy, appointed him count and made him a swordsman of the personal guard, and he granted him the most important distinction that a brave nobleman can conquer at the honorable courts of knights. Let us return to the gate of the castle of the journey, where a few moments after the Count of Portsmouth passed an intense cry covered the silence, then everything became as before, gloomy and frightening, but in the castle revived, the palace was filled with light and must be recognized as an evening feast was held in the guest room, but as a newcomer only the little count was more important among the diners, his stomach did not bother him at all at that time, but out of respect for the etiquette of manners, he took off his helmet which those in I admired him and could see a young, childish face.

It was self-evident how brave little Dixon was to ride in the darkness of such a chilly night that until the meal was prepared the Castilian for an hour talked until the end of the preparations for his unexpected arrival.

 "Count, I prefer to remain silent, but earlier when I was walking on the balcony of the apartment I did not know who to say a word about the world, I in his Dartford tower the journey of muttering songs in the symphony of owls, and just then the noise in the castle, a bastard is trying his luck at the castle and as I have to be notified about it, I thought that again a misfortune like this on my head that is ruining my sleep.

 The little one from Portsmouth sat down in a chair, while the castellan continued his sentence with his stubborn ardor

 "I hope, sir, that maybe for the few years I will worship you in the castle access, it will not seem at all without dignity, because, I am intrigued by the intrigue, and miserable with the bloody hand, it stings my wounds and annoyance!"

 "It's a fight on the way to exile, he looked at the letter that the count handed out, and reading a few lines, he looked at him penetratingly as if a judge had forgotten the accused, who put me in this service was the king, and now I am tormented in my perseverance by the new monarch, who looks at me only at a flea without good manners, and with a second failure I knew not to tread on his hunts, in which I am left prey to wild boars and wild horns, it's a pity that I sacrificed my youth in this old tower, I forgot my name, I don't know how to hold a sword in my hand they all collapsed on their own."

 "Sir, I am a young man who can talk to the king either, he is merciful or cruel, in front of the courtiers he must show a venerable importance for a swordsman from the Iron Sword, a respect is given to everyone, especially since the king is a innate protector of the gentlemen, he loves the old cow and the noble face, but one thing demands!"

  "Namely?" the Castilian moves as if eaten behind his back

  "Namely not to betray him, betray in front of everyone, do not suffer to see how goodness is begged for money, and pulled on the rope by robbers for money, hang as much as possible and without mercy, do not love anyone with thoughts from these!

   "Stop dreaming, withered dreams, who I think can listen to you, but not to offend you count but you are a child!"

  "And it's not natural to listen to a child, a child makes as many as ten men who can kiss his feet, I know Henry, right now I can satisfy the desire to send a courier to London, and if sign."