"The Kaisar was most gracious, and the king knew
me," he said, "and asked for thee, Friedel, saying one of us was
nought without the other. But thou wilt go to-morrow, for we are to
receive knighthood."
"Already!" exclaimed Friedel, a bright glow rushing to his cheek.
"Yea," said Ebbo. "The Romish king said somewhat about waiting to
win our spurs; but the Kaisar said I was in a position to take rank
as a knight, and I thanked him, so thou shouldst share the honour."
"The Kaisar," said Wildschloss, "is not the man to let a knight's fee
slip between his fingers. The king would have kept off their grip,
and reserved you for knighthood from his own sword under the banner
of the empire; but there is no help for it now, and you must make
your vassals send in their dues."
"My vassals?" said Ebbo; "what could they send?"
"The aid customary on the knighthood of the heir."
"But there is--there is nothing!" said Friedel. "They can scarce pay
meal and poultry enough for our daily fare; and if we were to flay
them alive, we should not get sixty groschen from the whole.
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