One more good scuffle, with a parade
of all our talent."
The assailants tried beams against the keep gate; the defenders shot
them down or hurled rocks upon their heads. But on the wall of the
keep Cercamorte's half-clad men fell sprawling, abristle with
feathered shafts. A beam reached the gate and shook it on its hinges.
Lapo, one ear shot away, drew his surviving soldiers back into the
hall.
He ordered torches stuck into all the wall-rings, and ranged his men
on the dais. Behind them, in the doorway leading to the upper
chambers and the high tower, he saw his wife, wild-looking, and
whiter than her robe.
"Go back, Madonna. It is only your family calling with some of their
friends. I entered Grangioia Castle abruptly; now it is tit for tat."
The crone brought two helmets, which Lapo and Baldo put on. Then,
drawing their long swords, they awaited the onset.
The keep gate yielded, and into the hall came rushing a wave of
peaked and painted shields. But before the dais the wave paused,
since in it were those who could not forego the joy of taunting Lapo
Cercamorte before killing him. So suddenly, all his antagonists
contemplated him in silence, as he crouched above them with his
sword and shield half raised, his very armour seeming to emanate
force, cunning, and peril.
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