Austell’s outer bailey as daylight turned to dusk, Riston didn’t think it looked any different from when he had left it. Part of the north wall was still down, soldiers had sent up temporary camps in the outer bailey, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that Launceston troops had set up an encampment of their own. He wondered what would happen when he confronted de Bretagne and his bulldog of a knight, de Lohr. He fully intended to tell Dennis that the men had thrown him in the vault and only by Lyla’s bravery had he managed to make it back. It was sure to be a scene, he thought as he passed into the inner bailey. Villagers had set up shacks and lean-tos amongst the mud and uneven ground; it looked like a squatter’s camp and the smell was so strong that his eyes watered. Raw sewage ran in hastily dug canals near the southern wall. Lyla sat behind him, clinging to him wearily as they made their way towards the keep. The horse was hot and frothy, and by the time they reached the keep, Lyla nearly fell off the horse in her attempt to dismount.
