CHAPTER III--CEDRIC THE FORESTER
It was on a sunny noontide, in fair October, some six months after wehad driven the hounds of Carleton from our castle of Mountjoy, that Iwas riding in the forest, three leagues and more from home, on the wayto see my cousins of Leicester at their manor by the edge of PelhamWood, and mayhap to share with them one of those goodly pasties ofvenison which their table never lacks.
My bonny white mare, Clothilde, did amble along the woodland path withdainty and springing steps, as though 'twere joy enough to be abroad andlightly burdened on such a day; and it seemed to me I felt my youth andgrowing bones and sinews as ne'er before. As I passed the Tarleton Waterwhich was rippling most sweetly under the sun glints, I was minded of afair dream that had come to me on that night we halted the secondassault of the Carletons, and after old Marvin had bathed and dressedthe wound I had from a cross-bow bolt. Here was the sparkling water,just as I had seen it then, and the glimmering of the light on the oakleaves of red and brown and gold; and here was I astride the goodly marethat I had raised and broken from a colt, and on an errand far enoughremoved from the grim business of that dark and dangerous time.
By my side was the gold-hilted sword from Damascus which had been minesince the return of my father, Lord Mountjoy, from the Scottish war; andI bore no other arms nor thought of any need for them. My sixteenthbirthday would not now be long in coming; and already my mark on thelintel post was within a handsbreadth of my father's own. My voice hadgrown more settled of late; and, in the lonely reaches of the forest, Iwas practicing for my own delight a sweet ballad which I had often heardhim sing, and which he had from the minstrels of Provence who hadjourneyed with the armies to the Holy Land.
Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I marked the movement of a bush ina little glade two hundred yards to the right of my path. The swing itmade was none such as are caused by the wind; and indeed at the time allthe air about was still and warm with the quietness of the summer of St.Martin's. Rather was the movement I had scarcely seen the twitch of theleafy top of a sapling when its stem is roughly seized or when someheavy thing hath fallen against it. To me it told, plainly and well,that either was a deer grazing in that thicket or that some man, mayhapwith good reason for not wishing to be seen, was hiding there.
In a moment I had turned Clothilde's head from the path and was ridingthrough the light underbrush with my eyes fixed on the ferny glade. SoonI broke through the bushes that screened it and saw a youth in theLincoln green of a forester, stripping the hide from a fine antleredbuck. There had been, in the troublous times of the past year and more,while most of the knights and gentlemen of the countryside were with theKing's banner in Scotland, far too much of lawless slaying of deer bypoaching villains and forest hiding thieves. Twice had I, in the thickof the woods, come on the half-flayed and mangled carcasses which hadbeen left to waste or to feed the wolves after tenderloins and hauncheshad been cut away. Now my choler quickly rose within me, and I calledout, full rough and loud:
"How now! Thou deer-stealing varlet! I have thee red-handed. By myfaith, thou shalt smart well for this."
The poacher sprang up and faced me; and I saw that he was a youth of notmore than my own time, though perhaps a thought broader of the shouldersand hips. He seemed not like a forest lurker either, for he had a goodand open English face with the wide blue eyes that low-hearted knavesbut seldom have. Now, however, he answered my threatening looks with astare as bold as that of Robin Hood, and flung back at me in snarlingtones:
"I steal no deer. I am the son of Elbert the forester of Pelham. My lordof Pelham allows us four good deer in each twelve-month; and this is butthe third we have taken."
"Thou liest, scurvy knave," I shouted, drawing my sword and making itwhistle through the air about my head, "leave that carcass and walkbefore me to Pelham Manor; and we shall see what Lord Pelham says tothis pretty tale of thine."
For answer the forester leaned forward and seized his cross-bow whichwas leaning, ready drawn and with bolt in groove, against the bole of asapling near at hand. Leveling the piece at my throat, he growled, fullsurlily:
"Now, Sir Dickon of Mountjoy, turn thy horse and betake thee from hereas fast as may be. I have spoken truth, as you may learn full easily ifyou ride to Pelham; but never will I, who go about my lawful business,consent to walk as your prisoner like a stealer of sheep. Get thee gonenow, for truly my finger itches at the trigger."
His blue eyes blazed at me with a menace not to be gainsaid. Here was nocrouching knave who might receive a buffet for his insolence, but onefull capable of making good his word. I was looking straight down thecross-bow groove at the steel bolt which another threat from me wouldsend flying into my face. The knave was well beyond the reach of mysword, and could kill me as easily as he had the great buck that lay athis feet. I wheeled the mare and rode away out of the thicket, throwingover my shoulder the while a string of threats of the punishment hisacts should bring down on his head when I had but spoken with his masterof Pelham. To all these the young forester answered never a word, butstood with leveled weapon till I had passed from sight and hearing.
In the midst of my wrath at being thus balked I could not but admit thathe bore himself well and truly. And I thought of a saying of my father'sthat the greatness of England in battle was not the work of her armoredhorsemen or even of her stout men-at-arms, but of these same yeomen ofthe field and forest, who on many a hard-fought field had stood inleathern coats or homespun smocks like the oaks of their native woodsand rained their arrows on the faces of the enemy spearmen till thelines wavered and broke and made way for the charge of the mail-cladknights.
I soon regained the pathway, and was riding slowly while I meditated thethings I should say to Pelham of the insolence of his forester,--ifindeed the churl were the son of Elbert as he claimed. And so were mythoughts disturbed that I saw no more the beauty of the day in thegreenwood nor heard the trills and twitterings of the birds overhead.Thus engaged, and with my eyes fixed on the track in front, it was withsurprise that I heard the sound of a horse's hoofs and looked up to seeapproaching me, and but a hundred yards away, a tall young man, dressedin the style more affected at the court than in our rough Western land.It needed but a second glance for me to name him as Lionel, thetwenty-years old son of the old Lord of Carleton, and the bitterestenemy of our house.
Early in the summer the Old Wolf of Carleton, as he was known to thecountryside, had died of a wound given him two months before by our oldMarvin with his good cross-bow when the Carletons were carrying forwardtheir traitorous assault on the Castle of Mountjoy, the while my fatherwith the best part of his men were with the King's banner in Scotland.
For five years Lionel had been absent from Teramore, and one of a groupof high-born youths who, at the great London house of the Duke ofCumberland, were being trained as squires-at-arms whilst they awaitedthe day for receiving the order of knighthood. At the news of hisfather's death he hurried to Teramore to join his mother and take chargeof the great estate.
Often had we heard since then of the dire threats that he breathedagainst the House of Mountjoy and all its people; but the King himselfhad declared our quarrel just and affirmed our rights to the lands ofMountjoy; and we gave little heed to the mouthings of one who had yethis spurs to win and his name to make 'mongst fighting men. But now thethought came over me of a sudden that I was but half a league fromTeramore Castle, mounted on a gentle palfrey and with no weapon save thegood sword at my side. If the threats of Lionel of Carleton were aughtbut empty air, he would scarce let slip such an opportunity.
These thoughts were but too well founded. Carleton was gazing fiercelyat me as he came forward; and as his horse came opposite, pulled him upwith a wrench on the bridle rein so violent that the mettlesome steedall but cast himself on his haunches.
"Ha! Well met, young Dickon of Mountjoy!" he snarled. "By my troth, mygood fairy must have guided my bridle to-day to give me this chance tosay my say to this young whelp of a race of d
ogs! Now shalt thou learnwhat it is to have the Carleton for an enemy."
Carleton was taller and longer-limbed than I. He wore a stout broadswordand, stuck in his belt on the other side, a poniard of most wickeddesign. He had the better of me in respect to four years and more ofpractice of arms; and I knew full well that, were their quarrels rightor wrong, the Carletons were no weaklings. But already I smarted withthe affront given me by the poaching varlet; and now this insult to thehonorable name of Mountjoy was not to be borne. I threw his words backin his teeth.
"Thou Wolf-pup from a race of thieves unhung!" I shouted. "Get thee downfrom yon tall war-horse, and draw that sword if thou darest. Thou'ltmake good thy mighty words or verily thou shalt eat them here and now."
So saying I swung to the ground and drew my weapon. Carleton lost notime in doing likewise, and came at me with a fury which I had scarceexpected. I met his thrust with the parry which my father had welltaught me years agone; and had my enemy not sprung aside with thequickness of a cat, my sword in return had pierced his neck.
"Ha!" growled Carleton between his gritting teeth, "so the Mountjoywhelp hath already a trick or two of fence. 'Twill make the game themore worth the playing. Hast stomach for cold steel? Look now!"
He danced about me, thrusting and slashing wickedly with his heavysword, and displayed not ill the training he had had in the halls ofCumberland. But since the day I could raise a foil, it had been mydearest plaything; and whenever my father had been at home, he had mademy teaching his special care. Since his return from Scotland there hadbeen scarce a day when we had not spent a brace of hours with the foilsor with broadswords and bucklers. Some men are born for sword-play, asothers, like Old Marvin, for the cross-bow; but Lionel of Carleton wasnot of these. A minute had not passed, as we circled and danced aboutone another, with our weapons striking fire in the shadow of the wood,before I knew that Carleton, with all his added years and training, wasno more than a match for me, if indeed as much. He panted and cursed aseach trick of thrust was met by its proper parry, and slipped mostdangerously on the oak leaves underfoot as I stepped aside from hisbull-like rushes. Presently my sword nicked him fairly on the arm,drawing a spurt of blood and a stream of oaths. He lunged wildlyforward. I parried his thrust and drove my sword straight at his breastbone.
_THE FORCE OF MY BLOW DROVE HIM BACKWARD, BUT MY WEAPONPIERCED HIM NOT_]
The force of my blow drove him backward, but my weapon pierced him not.Then at once I realized that which made my blood turn cold. He waswearing beneath his doublet a shirt of linked mail; and I, withoutdefense of any sort, was fighting an armored enemy.
"Ho!" I cried, "so thou gard'st thy coward heart with mail, lestperadventure one might fight with thee on even terms."
The wicked look he gave me in reply reminded me, even in that moment ofperil, of that on the face of the Gray Wolf of Carleton when he answeredmy mother's challenge as to his errand at the gates of Mountjoy. But hespent no breath in reply, and fought on with fury, bent on pressing hisunknightly vantage to the utmost. Twice I narrowly escaped his blade;then once mine grazed his neck, for that was now my mark; and againblood spurted from the gash.
At this he lost all caution and rushed upon me as a bear upon his foe,getting within my guard by some ill chance, and seizing me about theneck and arms. Both our swords were dropped in the struggle; and wewrestled and fought, not like knights and gentlemen, but like drunkenlackeys who have fallen out over their games of dice. Now, indeed, didCarleton's weight and strength befriend him. I strove for my life totopple him beneath me, but all to no purpose. In an instant I waswhirled through the air, and came down with a crash on my back, withCarleton's knee firmly planted on my breast bone.
At once he drew his poniard and pressed the point against my throat.
"Now yield thee, Whelp of Mountjoy," he panted, "quick, ere thou diest."
"Thou hast won," I answered, "but, fighting thus, 'twere more to thyhonor to have been overcome."
"None of thy insolence," he snarled, "yield thee now as my prisoner andvassal, and say that thou'lt ever yield obedience to the Carleton as thyliege lord."
At this my gorge rose and the world turned black about me. "Never," Igroaned, "better far to die than suffer such disgrace."
"Die then," he shouted, hideously, and drew back his poniard for thethrust.
I closed my eyes, yet blood-red figures swam across my vision. In aninstant the steel would pierce my throat. Then of a sudden the grip ofmy enemy relaxed, and his body rolled heavily from me.
I started up, and saw the Carleton lying face up on the oak leaves, hisforehead pierced by a cross-bolt. Running toward me through theundergrowth was a figure in Lincoln green which my staring eyes soontold me was the young forester who had defied me in the glen but half anhour gone. His cross-bow was in his hand, and he panted for breath as heapproached and called:
"Art thou hurt, Master? Has he stabbed thee?"
"Not a whit," I answered dazedly, examining my limbs and body the while,"I have to thank thee then for my life. Thou camest in the nick oftime."
"The Saints be thanked," he answered joyfully. "The Carleton there haswhat he well deserves. I heard the sword-play from the glen yonder, andsoon knew the voice of that black caitiff. I was coming softly throughthe woods, wishing but to see close at hand a gallant passage at arms,when he overthrew thee and would have foully murdered thee, hisprisoner. 'Twas well my bolt already lay in groove."
"Son of Elbert," I answered, offering him my right hand, "thou'rt aready man and a true, and willing I am to call thee friend. But whatother name hast thou?"
He took my hand in a mighty grip and smiled most winsomely. "Cedric," hereplied, "a goodly Saxon name, borne by my grandfather before me."
"Well then, Cedric, we must bethink us what shall be done in thisjuncture. Yonder horse of the Carleton's is ours by lawful spoil. Mounttherefore, and let us betake ourselves from here as soon as may be." Itook up my sword and my cap from the oak leaves.
He turned toward the horse, and in so doing his glance carried far downthe pathway which there for a quarter mile was straight beneath theoak-trees. Then he turned back to me with a cry of alarm.
"Mount and quickly. There be a half dozen of the Carleton men-at-arms.An they catch us here by the body of their master, they will have ourblood. Come! For our lives!"
With one bound he vaulted to the saddle of the war horse. Scarcelyknowing what I did, I found myself on the mare's back and spurring awayup the forest path. Cedric had no spurs, but he quickly urged his mountto a gallop by blows of his heels; and we raced away at full speed. TheCarletonians raised a shout as they caught sight of us, and spurredtheir horses in pursuit. Over our shoulders we saw them pause for amoment by the body of Lionel; then resume the chase with a fury thatboded ill for us. I knew full well the fate in store should theyovertake us; and pressed the little mare for all the speed she had.Cedric, on the tall war horse, quickly drew ahead, then, seeing melosing ground, drew rein till I overtook him. Our pursuers were wellmounted, and were spurring and lashing their horses without mercy. Thethunder of hoofs along the forest road was like that at a tourney or agreat race-course.
If I had had but a better mount, we could soon have drawn away fromthem, for the tall steed which Cedric bestrode was the best of theCarleton stables, and our horses were more lightly burdened than thoseof our pursuers. As it was, we had gone scarce half a mile when 'twasplainly to be seen that my little mare was no match for the long-limbedsteeds of the Carletons. Yard by yard we lost ground; and now we couldhear the clashing of stirrups and scabbards as our enemies panted closeupon our trail.
_WE HAD GONE SCARCE HALF A MILE WHEN 'TWAS PLAINLY TO BESEEN THAT MY LITTLE MARE WAS NO MATCH FOR THE LONG-LIMBED STEEDS OF THECARLETONS_]
We were going up a slope where the path ran between groups of bouldersand great rocks. Suddenly Cedric drew rein and turned aside behind asheltering ledge. Clothilde was panting hard, and I gladly followed him,though knowing naught of what he i
ntended.
Throwing himself from the saddle, the forester quickly braced hiscross-bow and placed a bolt in groove. Resting the weapon on the cornerof the rock, he took quick aim, and let drive at the leading horseman.Instantly the rider fell headlong to the ground, and his companions drewrein in confusion. With a wondrous deftness, my companion loaded againand let fly. This time one of the horses, struck in the breast by thebolt, reared up and threw his rider.
Like a flash Cedric leaped again on his horse's back, and signaling meto follow rode straight away into the forest. The branches were so lowand the undergrowth so thick that it would seem that no rider could makehis way; but we were riding for our lives, and knew that the limbs wouldhold back our enemies even more than ourselves. For five minutes we torewildly through the woods, half the time with our faces hidden in ourhorses' manes to save our eyes from being plucked out by the branches.We could hear shouts and curses behind us; but these momently grewfainter, and then could be heard no more.
Soon we came to the bank of a shallow brook. Into this, without stop orparley, plunged Cedric, but instead of riding straight across as I hadthought, he turned his horse's head up-stream and urged him at a trotalong its bed. For a quarter of a mile we rode thus, then coming to aford and a half-blind pathway, turned aside in the direction away fromTeramore, and again laying our heads on the necks of our mounts, spedthrough the woods at a ringing gallop. When we had covered a mile inthis way, the path merged into a wider one; and I recognized a littlevale to which my father and I had once come a-hunting, and which wasscarce five miles from Mountjoy.
Here for a moment we paused, and Cedric threw himself down and placedhis ear to the ground. Then he rose with a glad smile and shook hishead.
"Dost hear nothing of hoof-beats?" I questioned.
"Not a stroke," he answered. "I had bethought me of a cave hard by herewhere we might be hidden if the hounds were close upon us. There, withthe cross-bow, we could have stood off a hundred if need be, but we musthave turned the horses loose, with the chance of their being taken."
"Nay," said I, "we've shaken them off full well. In half an hour or lesswe can be crossing the drawbridge at Mountjoy. That noble steed thouridest is too fine a prize to be left to the Carleton wolves."
Just then something whirred viciously through the air between us, and asteel cross-bow bolt half buried itself in a tree-trunk close at hand.
Wheeling about toward the place whence came the arrow, I saw the steelcap and the ugly face of a Carleton man-at-arms over the top of a rock ahundred yards away which concealed and sheltered the rest of him.Cedric, with a twist of the bridle rein and some vicious blows with hisheels, urged his horse behind the tree which had received the bolt; andI mayhap would have shown more wisdom had I done likewise. But I saw butthe single enemy before me; and for the instant his arrow groove wasempty. Cedric had already taken toll of two of our enemies, while I, theheir of our house whose quarrel he had espoused, had done naught but flybefore their pursuit. With a yell, "A Mountjoy, A Mountjoy," which isthe battle cry of our people, I set spurs to my horse, and, sword inhand, charged straight toward the rock.
The Carleton man was striving sore to draw his bow and place anotherbolt; and had he been but half so deft with that goodly weapon as Cedrichad twice shown himself that day, he might have stopped me in fullcareer with an arrow in the breast or face. But he fumbled sadly withthe string, and ere he could reach another bolt from his pouch I wasalmost upon him. In this strait he dropped the bow and, standing erect,whisked a broadsword from his belt. The scoundrel was tall and long ofarm; and now I saw that he wore a quilted and steel-braced jacket whichnone but the heaviest blow might pierce. I had already repented me of myfolly in rushing, for the second time that day, into combat so unequal,and was bethinking me what trick of fence might serve my turn with thisbrawny and ill-visaged swordsman, when once again the skilled and readyhand of my friend of the Lincoln green saved me from dire peril. Even asour blades clashed, and I felt in his sword-play the firm, sure wrist ofmy enemy, a bolt whizzed past me and pierced his neck, just where thequilted jacket lay open at the throat. Without a cry, he fell forward onhis face.
I looked wildly about, in effort to espy more of the men-at-arms, if sobe they were awaiting us in ambush. But I could see no one; and no morearrows came from hidden foes. The woods were as quiet and serene, andthe westering sun sent its beams as sweetly into the bonny glade asthough men had never killed one another for gain or vengeance. Cedric,on the Carleton war-horse, came forward at a canter, with his bow madeready for another shot if need were.
"Are there more of the hounds?" he called, "if so be, we must takeshelter."
"I see none," I answered, "though yonder, midst the little birches, isthe horse which this one rode. Mayhap his comrades have ridden by otherroads to cut us off."
"'Tis truth," said Cedric, "yon Jackboots, that lieth now so still, didcome about by Wareham Road at breakneck pace while we made but slowriding through the tangle. 'Twas well he had not the skill of a yeomanwith the cross-bow, else one or both of us would ne'er again have seenMountjoy. But come! Can thy little mare hold full stride through theglen and over yonder hill? An if she can, we may soon be where noCarletons will dare pursue."
For answer I set spurs to the mare's sides and led the way down the pathto the brook at the bottom of the valley. In a cloud of spray we fordedthe stream, then drove on without mercy up the long slope of Rowan Hill.Soon we were in sight of the towers of Mountjoy, and while the sun hadyet an hour's height, went safely o'er the drawbridge.
Cedric, the Forester Page 4
