CHAPTER V--THE FESTIVAL OF THE ARCHERS
Young Cedric, the forester, who was now my constant companion, waswalking with me on the path that led by the Millfield. There, since theraising of the siege of Castle Mountjoy, Old Marvin, the archer, and hisgray-haired dame had had their cottage and half dozen acres of mowingand tillage. 'Twas on a fair December morning, when yet no snow hadcome. The hoar frost still covered all the western slopes, and thewood-smoke that came down from a clearing in the forest above didsweeten the air more to my liking than all the scents and powders thatthe traders bring from Araby.
We had had an hour at the foils, wherein I was master, and another withthe cross-bow. And at this good sport Cedric did show such skill thatonce more I spoke my wonder at the magic of it. He had no more than myown sixteen years; and when 'mongst men and soldiers, he but seldomlifted his voice; but his handling of this weapon would honor any man ofmiddle life who had spent more years with the bow in his hands thanCedric could count, all told.
"Cedric," I cried, "methinks Old Marvin himself could not best thee; andfor thirty years he of all the Mountjoy archers hath borne the palm."
Cedric smiled, but shook his head.
"Mayhap Old Marvin knoweth a many things anent the placing of his boltthat have not yet come to me. My father, Elbert of Pelham Wood, whotaught me what I know, hath often told me that with the long-bow one manand one only in all of England could best him,--and that one no otherthan Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest; but with the cross-bow, Marvin ofMountjoy could ever lesson him. And did not thou tell me that 'twas OldMarvin who laid low the Gray Wolf of Carleton, at the siege? 'Tis onething to strike a fair bull's-eye on target, in broad daylight and quietair, and another far to strike the throat of one's enemy in battle andby torchlight."
"Aye, and 'twas thou, Cedric, who struck down young Lionel of Carletonand two of his robber hounds of men-at-arms, in our fray in the woodsbut six weeks gone. Thy bolts did not then fly by guess or by luck, Itrow."
Cedric smiled again, but had no words for this; and I went quickly on:
"I tell thee that when thou'rt my squire indeed, and I a knight intruth, and not by courtesy only, I'll have thee ever ride beside me withthy bow upon thy back, though thou shalt wear garments of velvet insteadof Lincoln green and a good broadsword shall swing by thy side. Then canwe strike down any caitiff from afar, if need be. And many a night whenwe make bivouac in the forest or on the moorlands we shall sup rightroyally on the hares or moorfowl which thy skill will provide, and snapour fingers at the inns and all the houses of the towns."
"'Tis a fair thought," sighed Cedric. "An oak-leaf bed in a glade, by agoodly stream, is ever more to my liking than any made in a dwelling,save in the wet or bitter weather. But, for Old Marvin now--Methinks'twould please me well to shoot against him at archer match. Were Ibested by such as he, 'twould be no honor lost."
"By my faith!" I shouted, "such a match we will have. 'Twill be a fairsight indeed to see two archers such as thou and Marvin at the marks.We'll have a festival for all the friends of Mountjoy, noble and simple,and roast an ox for their regalement. Since the Shrewsbury court and thebattle trial that freed thee and me from all charges of foul play in thematter of Lionel of Carleton, and now that my father is nearly well ofhis wounds, the Mountjoys have reason enough to rejoice. We'll have aday to be remembered."
Just then Old Marvin, who did chop for firewood a fallen yew in thefield near by, caught sight of us, and, dropping his ax, came forward togreet us.
"A fine morning for the woods, Sir Dickon," he said, doffing hisheadgear to me and nodding to Cedric. "Could not one get the leeward ofa buck on such a day?"
"Aye," I answered, full the while of my new thought, "and if either thouor Cedric here did come within a hundred paces, we should eat on themorrow of a fair pasty of venison. But what say'st thou, Marvin to anarcher match with Cedric? Thou knowest he is newly in our service, butthat he hath an eye for the homing of his bolt. Of all the Mountjoy menhe alone is worthy to shoot against thee."
"Aye," cried Marvin, eagerly. "I have heard much of his skill. 'Tis saidthat for such a youth he shoots most wondrous well. For twenty years noMountjoy hath striven with me at tourney; and a fair day at the markswould like me well. Will there be a prize, think'st thou?"
"Aye, that there will be," I returned full gaily, for now methought theday promised such sport as we had not had for years; and I was fairlifted up with the picture of it that filled my mind. "I'll make myfather give to him who wins the day the best milch cow in all theMountjoy barns. How likest thou that, Marvin? Could'st thou use such abeast on thy little farm?"
"Marry! Well could I," answered Marvin, his eyes shining as brightly asa youth's. "My dame did tell me yesterday 'tis what we most do lack."
"And I," put in Cedric, "should any wondrous luck or chance bring theprize to me, could give her to my father. He hath a little meadow by hiscottage in Pelham Wood where a cow could find sweet pasture, and, in thecot, three little ones who'd thrive on the milk. Marvin, be sure I'lltake the prize from thee if ever I can."
"An thou winnest it, thou'lt shoot well, Cedric lad," answered OldMarvin with a grin. "'Tis now full many years since I found any man tobest me."
But now I caught sight of my father, Lord Mountjoy, astride the palfreyhe rode in those days of recovering from the hurts he had at Shrewsbury,and riding toward the clearing on the hill where the woodmen piled thelogs for our fireplace burning. I waved and beckoned to him till hepaused and turned his horse's head toward us. In a moment we three stoodabout him and told of our plans for the archery match. Most of the wordswere mine, but Cedric and Old Marvin himself were not a whit less eager.Soon I had drawn from Lord Mountjoy the promise that we should have ourwill, and that the archer festival should be held in the Mountjoy landsin three days' time.
But, hot and eager as I was, I noted even then a backwardness in myfather's answers that puzzled me. 'Twas not like him to care for thegift of a cow or a colt to any of his faithful retainers; and I knew heloved a fair match at the targets as well as any. After we had said"good day" to Marvin, and as Cedric and I walked down the road towardthe wood on either side of his horse, Father gave utterance to hisworrying thought.
"Dickon, 'tis but natural at thy years to be eager and headlong in thythinking; but has the thought not come to thee at all that this matchthat thou dost plan so joyously may end in sorrow to thy old instructorin arms?"
"How so?" I questioned,--but even in the saying, I saw a glimmer of hismeaning.
"For thirty years and more Old Marvin hath been leading archer ofMountjoy. He nears three score and ten; and may the saints bespeak himmany years of peace after all the toils and perils he hath undergone forour house. Mayhap his eye is as clear and his hand as true as ever; butI have seen somewhat of the shooting of Cedric here; and it may be thathe'll best Old Marvin at the thing which is his dearest pride. Shouldthat happen, canst thou warrant Marvin will not carry home a bitterheart from thy festival?"
"Oh, Father! Surely thou dost jest. Marvin is no child to grieve atbeing beaten in fair play, should that chance befall him. I warrantwe'll see never a sign of it."
"'Tis true enough," said my father slowly, "we'll never see a sign ofit; but the bitterness may be there ne'ertheless. But I bethink menow,--get John o' the Wallfield or some other Mountjoy archer to make athird. Then Marvin can be but second at worst, and 'twill make a fairershow for all these friends we are to bid come to our fete. John is evera hopeful youth, and will shoot as though his life depended on it."
Saying thus, he set spurs to his horse, and, with a nod and smile atCedric, rode away up the forest path.
That afternoon messengers went out from the castle, to bid to thefestival the tenantry and all the friends of Mountjoy for ten miles'round; and an ox was slain for the roasting.
Three days later, on another perfect morn without cloud or breath ofwind, there assembled in Yew Hedge Meadow, a furlong from the Mountjoygate, a concourse which might have graced
a tournament. The Pelhams werethere and the Leicesters and even a half dozen of the Montmorencys, mymother's kin from Coventry. The yeomanry of the Mountjoy lands had come,e'en to the last man and maid and child, and nigh two hundred of theneighbor folk from Pelham Manor, Leicester and Mannerley. The gentrywere gathered on some rows of benches, covered with gay-colored robes,which had been placed on a little hillock at the left; and the commonersstood or walked about on the good brown sward, having many a gay crackand jest between them, and enjoying, methought, a better view of thearchery than their betters on the higher ground.
Many of the Mountjoy men had brought their cross-bows; and were nowtaking random shots at the white-centered target, a hundred paces downthe meadow. Others had long-bows and the cloth-yard shafts that theforester loves. When Cedric's father, Elbert of Pelham Wood, came on theground with his long-bow in his hand a cry went up for a match with thatnoble weapon to come before the prize shooting of the cross-bow men.
My father came and full warmly greeted the Pelham forester, and gave hisword for the long-bow trials. Two of our Mountjoy lads shot each fiveshafts at the three-inch bull's-eye; and of these Rob of the RowanGrange was in high delight at thrice fairly striking it. Then Elbert,with a merry grin that showed his toothless jaws, did come to the markand sent five arrows toward the target, suffering none to touch themtill the last was sped. When he had finished there was a shout from allthe people, with Rob o' the Rowan's voice among the loudest, for everyarrow point had pierced the white.
Now came Marvin, bonnet in hand, before Lord Mountjoy; and began tospeak with a quickness and a shortness of breath that I had ne'er beforenoted.
"My lord, methinks 'twould better the match for those that come to seeour archery if we had, besides yonder target, a moving mark. Whatthink'st thou of the rolling ball such as I used a score of years agone,and with which thyself did have much good sport?"
"Marry! Well bethought, good Marvin!" cried Father. "Have the lads bringplanks from the courtyard and set up the trough as thou bid'st them. Wehave bowling balls enough. Truly, 'twill make the match a gayer sight.There are many here that never have seen thy skill so displayed."
_THEN ELBERT DID COME TO THE MARK AND, WITH A MERRY GRIN,SENT FIVE ARROWS TOWARD THE TARGET_]
Marvin turned away full eagerly to give orders for the making of theslanting trough of planks down which the bowling ball should roll; andas I saw the light in his eyes my heart did warm toward our faithful andstout-hearted old follower that he should devise this play to save hisarcher fame. For plain it was to me that my father had been well pleasedat this thought of Marvin's, believing that in this game which was hisvery own, and practiced by none beyond the lands of Mountjoy, he woulddisplay such mastery as would far outweigh any vantage that young Cedricmight gain at the bull's-eye shooting.
Many hands made light work of the making ready. Soon a trough of plankswent up to one side of the arrow course, and eighty yards from the markat which the archers stood. One end was raised four yards from the earthon a scaffolding on which a lad might climb to place the bowling ballsin groove. When, at the word, he rolled one from him, it dashed down theslope and rolled and bounded o'er the sod for thirty paces, full like ahare started from his covert by the hunters. To strike this ball in fullcareer with cross-bow bolt was no child's play. To this could I wellswear, for never yet had I succeeded in doing so, when, two years agone,Old Marvin had sought to teach me. As I recalled my many bootlesstrials, I laughed to think of Cedric and the game Old Marvin now hadplayed on him.
Now came the cross-bow men to the mark for the target shooting. OldMarvin began, and in high confidence. But verily, Fortune frowned onhim, for the wind that had been but a breath before, sprung up just ashe laid finger to trigger; and his first two bolts missed the white byhalf an inch. Then came three well within the circle; but the oldarcher's face bore a piteous frown as he made way for Cedric, for he hadthought to equal the long-bow shooting of his old gossip of Pelham Wood.
Cedric quickly sent three bolts to the bull's-eye. Then his hand seemedto tremble; and methought he suffered from the eyes of such a crowd ofwitnesses. His fourth bolt struck just outside the black, and the fifthwent two inches wide.
"What ails thee, lad?" questioned his father, full sharply. "Marvin hadthe wind to fight; but the air was quiet for thee. Methinks the fare ofMountjoy hall too rich for a plain forester. Thou handled thy weaponbetter on rye bread and pease porridge."
"Mayhap thou'rt right, Father," returned Cedric with a laugh. "Or mayhapI grow soft with sleeping on so fair a couch of wool. To-day I cannotshoot, it seems. Another day may better it."
John o' the Wallfield was now making careful sight at the bull's-eye;and all the assembly watched him close, for it had been whispered thatbut the day before he had made five bull's-eye strokes with ne'er abreak, and at the same distance as now. He had many friends among theyounger men and maids; and these now called to him words of cheer andbade him show his mettle. Thus besought, he showed a skill thatsurprised us all and filled me with a worry I could scarce suppress.Four of his bolts landed fair within the white, and the fifth but barelymissed it. At the target he was winner; and, a few years back, he hadbeen the best of all the Mountjoy archers, save only Marvin himself, atstriking the rolling ball. It began to seem that John o' the Wallfieldwho had been brought into the match to make a third in the scoring,might end by leading off the prize.
Next Marvin came to the mark to shoot at the rolling ball. All theyeomanry crowded round for a nearer view; and the knights and ladiesleft their benches and came forward that they might miss nothing of thisstrange test of archery. Now indeed did Marvin display something of thecraft that had made him for so many years the leading archer ofMountjoy. Four of his bolts struck the swiftly running mark fullsquarely; and the fifth was wondrous close. When he had finished all theolder yeomen and men-at-arms raised the shout of "Marvin! Marvin!" andsome did already talk of bearing him aloft as winner of the day. Fornever in his life had the old marksman bettered the record he had justmade at the rolling ball; and it was not believed an archer lived whocould equal it.
'Twas Cedric's turn to shoot next at this strange target. As he cameforward he seemed to be more wrought upon than ever; and I bethought methat he bore but ill the fortunes of the day. He drew his bowstring tocharge his weapon with a most unseemly twitch; and then exclaimed inwrath at a broken cord.
"Ho!" he called, "I must lay me a new string, it seems. This one wassadly frayed, and now is gone. But let me not delay the match. Let Johngo on in my turn while I knot and stretch a stouter one."
Nothing loath, John stepped forward to the mark. My father gave thesignal, and the ball rolled down the incline to the sward. Before it hadbounded a half dozen paces it was pierced by John's bolt; and there rosea great cry from all the younger men. Next came a miss; then anotherstroke; and the hubbub rose again. For the fourth and fifth shots, Johnaimed full carefully along the course the ball should go and before theword was given; but all his care availed him not, for both the boltsmissed clean.
Now again the meadow echoed with the cries of "Marvin! Marvin!" Some toodid call out a cheer for Cedric as he came up with bolt in groove; forthe young forester was well bethought at Mountjoy, and to-day he had notshamed the old-time leader as some had thought he might. As soon as thefirst ball touched the sward he pressed trigger; and in a moment 'twasseen that his bolt had nicked its edge. Then twice he missed it fairly;and twice more his bolts struck home. With but one more stroke he wouldhave equaled Marvin's score. As it was, his points were six, even asthose of John o' the Wallfield, while Marvin had thrice struck thebull's-eye and four times the rolling ball.
_WE MADE A PROCESSION THROUGH THE FIELDS, ALL THE MEN ANDMAIDENS SHOUTING AND DANCING AND MAKING A MOST MERRY AND HEARTENINGDIN_]
When Lord Mountjoy announced the prize was Marvin's, the elder Mountjoymen broke out afresh with cheers; and in these all the company, led bymy father himself, speedily joined. Two of the stoutest yeomen hoistedMarvi
n to their shoulders; and with them in the lead, we made aprocession through the fields and toward the hall, all the men andmaidens shouting and dancing and making a most merry and heartening din.
The tables were spread in the courtyard, and already were laden withbounteous platters of the roasted beef with bread and cakes and ale andgoodly Yorkshire pudding. The yeomanry here sat them down while myfather did lead his guests of gentle blood to the tables spread in thecastle hall. For an hour we feasted sumptuously, and many a tale wastold of archery and of the deer hunting of olden days, when, as Ilearned from the talk of my elders, men were taller and stronger and ofkeener eye than now, and such craft of the bow as Elbert and Old Marvinhad that day displayed was the boast of many archers in any goodlycompany.
In all this talk Cedric, the forester, had no part; though he listenedfull courteously to any who would address him. I had been rejoiced atMarvin's victory; but now I bethought me that Cedric might be feelingbitterness at his own poor showing. That he should strike the rollingball but thrice in the first five trials seemed not strange; but he haddone no better at the bull's-eye target; and his father's words mightwell have cut more deeply than he chose to show. I found a place besidehim, and, speaking softly so that no other might hear, did say:
"'Twas not thy day to-day, Cedric; but mind thee not. There'll be manyanother match whence thou'lt carry off the prize."
Cedric turned to me and smiled, methought a bit grimly, and I went on:
"'Twas hardly fair to thee to make thee shoot at the rolling ball at amatch and for the first time. 'Tis Marvin's own game; and at it he hathalways excelled all others."
"Sir Dickon," said Cedric, speaking as softly as I, "canst thou keep asecret?"
"Of a certainty," I answered. "What now hast thou to reveal?"
"I will show thee something which I would fain have thee know, if thouwilt promise me to tell no soul whatever nor to give any hint of it."
"'Tis well," I answered, "I promise it."
"Listen!" he whispered, "I go now to the Yew Hedge Meadow. After someminutes do thou follow me, and speak not to any one."
Speaking thus, he rose and quickly left the tables. I was full of adesire to learn his meaning; and did wait but the shortest space beforefollowing him. I found him, with his cross-bow ready drawn, at thearchers' mark in the meadow.
"Do thou climb upon yon scaffolding," said Cedric, "and roll me a ballthat I may try my hand once more at this strange game of Marvin's."
I did as he did ask; and his bolt struck it fairly in mid career.
"Well shot!" I cried, "thou'lt yet be Marvin's match at this game too."
"Prithee, another ball," called the forester.
Again I rolled the ball and again 'twas fairly struck. A third andfourth and fifth and sixth went down the trough; and I grew fairly'mazed, for Cedric met each with a bolt as surely and as easily as ifthey stood stock still. I leaped down from my perch on the scaffoldingand ran to him.
"Cedric!" I cried, "what means this? Thou passest Marvin's self. Did thyhand tremble to-day from the gaze of so many onlookers?"
Cedric laughed again; and now he wore such a gay, light-hearted look asI bethought me had not been on his face for three days past.
"Hush!" he said, "tell it not so loud lest some may hear thee. But wasit not the will of my Lord Mountjoy, who risked his life for me atShrewsbury, that Old Marvin should win this one last archer match? Itcost me but a broken bowstring and some little work of the head whenJohn o' the Wallfield seemed like to win the day. He needs must shootbefore me that I might know how to guide my bolts. Had he struck therolling ball with but one more bolt, he would have equaled Marvin'sscore; and I must have done likewise that we three might shoot again. Ifwith two more, he would have bested Marvin, and I must take the prizefrom him. But with only two strokes in the five, 'twas easy quite; andnow Marvin hath the prize that it were shame to keep from him."
Then indeed I understood; and I wrung Cedric's hand in gladness.
"My father shall know of this," I cried; "and he'll give thee a prizealso. Another cow, second only to the one that Marvin chooses, shall goto thy father's cottage."
But Cedric's face, which had been merry, now quickly altered; and heshook his head.
"Sir Dickon," he said steadily, "dost thou not recall that thou didstpromise not to reveal what I did show thee?"
"Why! But of that word thou'lt release me, Cedric. 'Twas but a notion ofthine. Truly, Lord Mountjoy should know of this."
But Cedric still shook his head.
"I told thee not in order that I might gain a prize. And for my shootingthis day no prize will I take. I somehow could not bear that thoushould'st think me so poor an archer as this day's work did show; butnow I hold thee to thy knightly word, well and freely given."
I could think of no word more to say nor any way of moving him from hisresolve. So we walked slowly back to the hall, and in silence, forCedric was ever of few words, and I was thinking deeply on hisobstinacy.
In the courtyard and in the hall we found the feast was yet in progress.Truly, if our men of England do work and fight as valiantly as they eatand drink, 'tis no wonder that our land grows in power and holds up itshead among nations. I left Cedric at his former seat, and walkedstraight across the hall to my father. Cedric's eyes followed me, for itwas plain that he yet feared I might tell Lord Mountjoy how our archerymeet had been guided. And I cast back at Cedric, as I went, a sly andcrafty look which did nothing [to] reassure him.
Soon I gained the ear of my father; and for half a minute did speak tohim full earnestly. To which he straightway made answer in his strongand goodly tones which Cedric and many others might well hear above thehum of voices and the clatter of the serving-men:
"Marry! Well bethought, Dickon. It were indeed a shame to let sucharchery at our festival go unrewarded. 'Twill pleasure Cedric also; and,truly, he hath borne himself well this day."
Rising, he addressed the company:
"Ho! good friends all! Fair ladies and most worshipful knights andgentlemen: I go to the courtyard to say to our yeomanry assembled theresome words that you may also wish to hear."
Then he passed out of the hall, and all the lords and ladies rose tofollow him. Cedric and I were last. As we waited for the crowd to passthrough the doorway, he whispered, sharply:
"Hast thou then told Lord Mountjoy after all?"
I smiled in answer.
"Contain thyself, good Cedric, and hear what thou shalt hear."
He would have questioned further, but at that moment my father's voicewas heard in the courtyard.
"Friends and Well Wishers of the House of Mountjoy: I know full well,'twill pleasure you to hear that the prize that our good Marvin hath sotruly won this day is not the sole prize of our festival. The cross-bowis a noble weapon, but the long-bow of Merry England is no less; and wehave seen some archery to-day that must not go without a guerdon.Therefore to Elbert, Forester of Pelham and father of Cedric, now of ourhouse, I give his choice of any cow in the Mountjoy herds, saving onlythat which Marvin chooses. To John o' the Wallfield also I make gift ofa good steel cross-bow of the sort which Marvin tells me he muchdesires, and with which he may better even the archery he hath bravelyshown to-day.
"Now here's a health to Merry England and long life to her honestyeomanry! So long as they guide bolt and shaft as now they'll confusionbring to all of England's enemies."
So it befell that in the dusk of that fair day Elbert, the forester, didlead home to Pelham Wood a goodly, milk-white heifer. A proud man was heof this prize of his archery; but, had he known the full tale of theday's doings, he might have been, without vainglory, prouder still.
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