Tossing his gauntlets and bascinet upon the high bed that stood in the corner near the door, he crossed to the small deep window and swung back the sash.  Below him lay the broad bailey, that at this hour was alive with the servitors and retainers of the Duke.  Before the dwellings against the inner wall children were playing, and through the fading light of the April afternoon rose a medley of sounds.  From the direction of the distant gateway sounded the ring of steel-shod hoofs, and presently a body of horsemen cantered across the stone pavement and drew rein before the keep.  A gruff command followed, and just as the rank was broken and the soldiery dispersed the sweet tones of the bell of All Saints’ Chapel came floating over the walls.

The Knight crossed himself instinctively, and then, leaning on the ledge, his thoughts turned to his family’s past and to why he, though of the blood of one of the Conqueror’s favorite Barons, was a stranger in England.

The main branch of the House of Lacy, once so powerful in Britain, had become extinct almost two centuries before; and although Sir Aymer’s ancestor had borne an honorable part in the wars of the Third Edward yet, like Chandos, he was content to remain a simple banneret.  When the Second Richard went down before his usurping cousin, the then head of the family had stood, to the last, true to his rightful King; and hence it was small wonder that to Sir Richard de Lacy the atmosphere of the Court of the new Monarch was not agreeable.  When Henry of Monmouth brought France again under English rule, Sir Richard rode no more to the wars; and the heir being but an infant, his retainers were mustered under a stranger’s banner.  During the later struggles of Bedford and of Warwick to retain the fast relaxing hold of England upon the domains beyond the Channel, the then Baron had done his devoir full knightly, but it is not in a losing struggle that families win advancement, and, to the last Lancastrian King, Sir Edward de Lacy was not known.  Then came the Wars of the Roses and, ere Aymer’s sire could bind the White Rose to his helmet, a sudden illness stilled his hand in death; and thus, again, had the House lost an opportunity to rise in fame and power.  Much honor had Sir Aymer won in the recent small wars and constant fightings of the Continent, and in the right of his mother’s family he might have aspired to high rank at the French Court; but Louis, “the Fell,” was not a warrior’s King, nor had long residence in a foreign clime bred in Sir Aymer forgetfulness of the land of his birth.

And so, at length, he had furled his pennon, and followed by his faithful squire and a few of his retainers he sought the English Court.  And with him went the solemn purpose either to restore the once great name he bore to its place among the chivalry of England or to let it perish utterly with him.  Within a few weeks of his arrival, Edward’s sudden death occurred, and he had been quick to appreciate that his opportunity lay with Gloucester in the North.  A friendship formed with the Duke of Buckingham some years previous in Paris, and which had been renewed in London, had stood him in good stead; for being acquainted with De Lacy’s purpose of seeking Pontefract, Stafford had to his great satisfaction made him his confidential messenger in the very matter which was then so near to Richard’s heart.