Gambade

He made his hawke to fly, […] And in the holy place She mutyd there a chase Upon my corporas face. Such sacrificium laudis He made with suche gambawdis.

How strange and yet how good it was to thread those narrow passages once more! Their suffocating constriction and padded, ladderlike steps summoned up a thousand memories of gambades and trysts: coursing the white wolves, scourging the prisoners of the antechamber, reencountering Oringa.