"Were I but journeying through this vile stretch of country I could
pick a better course," grumbled Richard Wood as he went forward. "But
being on chase of these two, I must even be content to follow. Behold
me now when the day is but half gone, slopped with water and besplashed
with mud till no man may know the color of my garments. It must be that
the young lord hath small wit to take such a course. Or mayhap he
looketh more behind him than before as he rideth, fearing pursuit."
And now they were come to the Yare; and it seemed that they would be
obliged to swim across it. "Never swam I in my life," declared Richard
Wood, "and I will not now begin."
"Canst thou not swim on thy horse's back?" demanded one of the
men-at-arms, impatiently.
"Ay; but how if the beast goeth down in the stream?" said Richard Wood.
"I tell thee, I fear water."
Then came one of the Saxons to the rescue. "Near here dwelleth a fen-man,"
he said, "and he hath a boat. I will e'en call him to take thee
over, and thou canst let thy horse swim."
Upon hearing this all three of the weary men-at-arms clamored for
places in the boat which Herebald, after a conference with Bernulf,
promised them.
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