Presently his King would win it all back for God.
But for him was the sterner task--no clean blows in the mellay among brethren, but a lone pilgrimage beyond the east wind to the cradle of all marvels.

The King had told him that he carried the hopes of Christendom in his wallet; he knew that he bore within himself the delirious expectation of a boy.

Youth swelled his breast and steeled his sinews and made a golden mist for his eyes.

The new, the outlandish, the undreamed-of!--Surely no one of the Seven Champions had had such fortune! Scribes long after would write of the deeds of Aimery of Beaumanoir, and minstrels would sing of him as they sang of Roland and Tristan.
The Count of Jaffa, whose tower stood on the borders and who was therefore rarely quit of strife, convoyed him a stage or two on his way.
It was a slender company: two Franciscans bearing the present of Louis to the Khakan--a chapel-tent of scarlet cloth embroidered inside with pictures of the Annunciation and the Passion; two sumpter mules with baggage; Aimery's squire, a lad from the Boulonnais; and Aimery himself mounted on a Barbary horse warranted to go far on little fodder.

The lord of Jaffa turned back when the snows of Lebanon were falling behind on their right.