'When?' said Dan.

'When we came back from sailing with Witta.'

'What did you do with your gold?' said Dan.

'Have patience. Link by link is chain-mail made. I will tell all in its
place. We bore the gold to Pevensey on horseback--three loads of it--and
then up to the north chamber, above the Great Hall of Pevensey Castle,
where De Aquila lay in winter. He sat on his bed like a little white
falcon, turning his head swiftly from one to the other as we told our
tale. Jehan the Crab, an old sour man-at-arms, guarded the stairway, but
De Aquila bade him wait at the stair-foot, and let down both leather
curtains over the door. It was Jehan whom De Aquila had sent to us with
the horses, and only Jehan had loaded the gold. When our story was told,
De Aquila gave us the news of England, for we were as men waked from a
year-long sleep. The Red King was dead--slain (ye remember?) the day we
set sail--and Henry, his younger brother, had made himself King of
England over the head of Robert of Normandy. This was the very thing
that the Red King had done to Robert when our Great William died. Then
Robert of Normandy, mad, as De Aquila said, at twice missing of this
kingdom, had sent an army against England, which army had been well
beaten back to their ships at Portsmouth. A little earlier, and Witta's
ship would have rowed through them.

'"And now," said De Aquila, "half the great Barons of the North and West
are out against the King between Salisbury and Shrewsbury, and half the
other half wait to see which way the game shall go. They say Henry is
overly English for their stomachs, because he hath married an English
wife and she hath coaxed him to give back their old laws to our Saxons.