Then one day into the courtyard of the king's hall rode men in haste from the westward, and when I was called out to meet them the first man on whom my eyes rested was Jago of Norton, and my heart fell.

Dusty and stained he was with riding, and his face was worn and hard, as with trouble, and he had no smile for me.
"What news, friend ?" I said, coming close to him as he dismounted.
"As they took you, so have they taken Owen.

We have lost him." "Is he slain ?" "We think not.

He was wounded and borne away.

We cannot trace him or his captors.