Chapter One: By The Waters of Death Creek
From the sea-wall on the coast of Essex, Rosamund looked outacross the ocean eastwards. To right and left, but a littlebehind her, like guards attending the person of their sovereign,stood her cousins, the twin brethren, Godwin and Wulf, tall andshapely men. Godwin was still as a statue, his hands folded overthe hilt of the long, scabbarded sword, of which the point wasset on the ground before him, but Wulf, his brother, movedrestlessly, and at length yawned aloud. They were beautiful tolook at, all three of them, as they appeared in the splendour oftheir youth and health. The imperial Rosamund, dark-haired andeyed, ivory skinned and slender-waisted, a posy of marsh flowersin her hand; the pale, stately Godwin, with his dreaming face;and the bold-fronted, blue-eyed warrior, Wulf, Saxon to hisfinger-tips, notwithstanding his father's Norman blood.
At the sound of that unstifled yawn, Rosamund turned her headwith the slow grace which marked her every movement.
"Would you sleep already, Wulf, and the sun not yet down?" sheasked in her rich, low voice, which, perhaps because of itsforeign accent, seemed quite different to that of any otherwoman.
"I think so, Rosamund," he answered. "It would serve to pass thetime, and now that you have finished gathering those yellowflowers which we rode so far to seek, the time--is somewhatlong."
"Shame on you, Wulf," she said, smiling. "Look upon yonder sea andsky, at that sheet of bloom all gold and purple--"
"I have looked for hard on half an hour, Cousin Rosamund; also atyour back and at Godwin's left arm and side-face, till in truth Ithought myself kneeling in Stangate Priory staring at my father'seffigy upon his tomb, while Prior John pattered the Mass. Why,if you stood it on its feet, it is Godwin, the same crossed handsresting on the sword, the same cold, silent face staring at thesky."
"Godwin as Godwin will no doubt one day be, or so he hopes--thatis, if the saints give him grace to do such deeds as did oursire," interrupted his brother.
Wulf looked at him, and a curious flash of inspiration shone inhis blue eyes.
"No, I think not," he answered; "the deeds you may do, andgreater, but surely you will lie wrapped not in a shirt of mail,but with a monk's cowl at the last--unless a woman robs you of itand the quickest road to heaven. Tell me now, what are youthinking of, you two--for I have been wondering in my dull way,and am curious to learn how far I stand from truth? Rosamund,speak first. Nay, not all the truth--a maid's thoughts are herown--but just the cream of it, that which rises to the top andshould be skimmed."
Rosamund sighed. "I? I was thinking of the East, where the sunshines ever and the seas are blue as my girdle stones, and menare full of strange learning--"
"And women are men's slaves!" interrupted Wulf. "Still, it isnatural that you should think of the East who have that blood inyour veins, and high blood, if all tales be true. Say,Princess"--and he bowed the knee to her with an affectation ofmockery which could not hide his earnest reverence--"say,Princess, my cousin, granddaughter of Ayoub and niece of themighty monarch, Yusuf Salah-ed-din, do you wish to leave thispale land and visit your dominions in Egypt and in Syria?"
She listened, and at his words her eyes seemed to take fire, thestately form to erect itself, the breast to heave, and the thinnostrils to grow wider as though they scented some sweet,remembered perfume. Indeed, at that moment, standing there onthe promontory above the seas, Rosamund looked a very queen.
Presently she answered him with another question.
"And how would they greet me there, Wulf, who am a Norman D'Arcyand a Christian maid?"
"The first they would forgive you, since that blood is none soill either, and for the second--why, faiths can be changed."
Then it was that Godwin spoke for the first time.
"Wulf, Wulf," he said sternly, "keep watch upon your tongue, forthere are things that should not be said even as a silly jest.See you, I love my cousin here better than aught else upon theearth--"
"There, at least, we agree," broke in Wulf.
"Better than aught else on the earth," repeated Godwin; "but, bythe Holy Blood and by St. Peter, at whose shrine we are, I wouldkill her with my own hand before her lips kissed the book of thefalse prophet."
"Or any of his followers," muttered Wulf to himself, butfortunately, perhaps, too low for either of his companions tohear. Aloud he said, "You understand, Rosamund, you must becareful, for Godwin ever keeps his word, and that would be but apoor end for so much birth and beauty and wisdom."
"Oh, cease mocking, Wulf," she answered, laying her hand lightlyon the tunic that hid his shirt of mail. "Cease mocking, and praySt. Chad, the builder of this church, that no such dreadfulchoice may ever be forced upon you, or me, or your belovedbrother--who, indeed, in such a case would do right to slay me."
"Well, if it were," answered Wulf, and his fair face flushed ashe spoke, "I trust that we should know how to meet it. Afterall, is it so very hard to choose between death and duty?"
"I know not," she replied; "but oft-times sacrifice seems easywhen seen from far away; also, things may be lost that are moreprized than life."
"What things? Do you mean place, or wealth, or--love?"
"Tell me," said Rosamund, changing her tone, "what is that boatrowing round the river's mouth? A while ago it hung upon its oarsas though those within it watched us."
"Fisher-folk," answered Wulf carelessly. "I saw their nets."
"Yes; but beneath them something gleamed bright, like swords."
"Fish," said Wulf; "we are at peace in Essex." Although Rosamunddid not look convinced, he went on: "Now for Godwin's thoughts--what were they?"
"Brother, if you would know, of the East also--the East and itswars."
"Which have brought us no great luck," answered Wulf, "seeing thatour sire was slain in them and naught of him came home again savehis heart, which lies at Stangate yonder."
"How better could he die," asked Godwin, "than fighting for theCross of Christ? Is not that death of his at Harenc told of tothis day? By our Lady, I pray for one but half as glorious!"
"Aye, he died well--he died well," said Wulf, his blue eyesflashing and his hand creeping to his sword hilt. "But, brother,there is peace at Jerusalem, as in Essex."
"Peace? Yes; but soon there will be war again. The monkPeter--he whom we saw at Stangate last Sunday, and who left Syriabut six months gone--told me that it was coming fast. Even nowthe Sultan Saladin, sitting at Damascus, summons his hosts fromfar and wide, while his priests preach battle amongst the tribesand barons of the East. And when it comes, brother, shall we notbe there to share it, as were our grandfather, our father, ouruncle, and so many of our kin? Shall we rot here in this dullland, as by our uncle's wish we have done these many years, yes,ever since we were home from the Scottish war, and count the kineand plough the fields like peasants, while our peers are chargingon the pagan, and the banners wave, and the blood runs red uponthe holy sands of Palestine?"
Now it was Wulf's turn to take fire.
"By our Lady in Heaven, and our lady here!"--and he looked atRosamund, who was watching the pair of them with her quietthoughtful eyes--"go when you will, Godwin, and I go with you,and as our birth was one birth, so, if it is decreed, let ourdeath be one death." And suddenly his hand that had been playingwith the sword-hilt gripped it fast, and tore the long, leanblade from its scabbard and cast it high into the air, flashingin the sunlight, to catch it as it fell again, while in a voicethat caused the wild fowl to rise in thunder from the Saltingsbeneath, Wulf shouted the old war-cry that had rung on so many afield--"A D'Arcy! a D'Arcy! Meet D'Arcy, meet Death!" Then hesheathed his sword again and added in a shamed voice, "Are wechildren that we fight where no foe is? Still, brother, may wefind him soon!"
Godwin smiled grimly, but answered nothing; only Rosamund said:
"So, my cousins, you would be away, perhaps to return no more,and that will part us. But"--and her voice brokesomewhat--"such is the woman's lot, since men like you ever lovethe bare sword best of all, nor should I
think well of you wereit otherwise. Yet, cousins, I know not why"--and she shivered alittle--"it comes into my heart that Heaven often answers suchprayers swiftly. Oh, Wulf! your sword looked very red in thesunlight but now: I say that it looked very red in the sunlight.I am afraid--of I know not what. Well, we must be going, for wehave nine miles to ride, and the dark is not so far away. Butfirst, my cousins, come with me into this shrine, and let us praySt. Peter and St. Chad to guard us on our journey home."
"Our journey?" said Wulf anxiously. "What is there for you to fearin a nine-mile ride along the shores of the Blackwater?"
"I said our journey home Wulf; and home is not in the hall atSteeple, but yonder," and she pointed to the quiet, brooding sky.
"Well answered," said Godwin, "in this ancient place, whence somany have journeyed home; all the Romans who are dead, when itwas their fortress, and the Saxons who came after them, andothers without count."
Then they turned and entered the old church--one of the firstthat ever was in Britain, rough-built of Roman stone by the veryhands of Chad, the Saxon saint, more than five hundred yearsbefore their day. Here they knelt a while at the rude altar andprayed, each of them in his or her own fashion, then crossedthemselves, and rose to seek their horses, which were tied in theshed hard by.
Now there were two roads, or rather tracks, back to the Hall atSteeple--one a mile or so inland, that ran through the villageof Bradwell, and the other, the shorter way, along the edge ofthe Saltings to the narrow water known as Death Creek, at thehead of which the traveller to Steeple must strike inland,leaving the Priory of Stangate on his right. It was this latterpath they chose, since at low tide the going there is good forhorses--which, even in the summer, that of the inland track wasnot. Also they wished to be at home by supper-time, lest the oldknight, Sir Andrew D'Arcy, the father of Rosamund and the uncleof the orphan brethren, should grow anxious, and perhaps come outto seek them.
For the half of an hour or more they rode along the edge of theSaltings, for the most part in silence that was broken only bythe cry of curlew and the lap of the turning tide. No humanbeing did they see, indeed, for this place was very desolate andunvisited, save now and again by fishermen. At length, just asthe sun began to sink, they approached the shore of DeathCreek--a sheet of tidal water which ran a mile or more inland,growing ever narrower, but was here some three hundred yards inbreadth. They were well mounted, all three of them. Indeed,Rosamund's horse, a great grey, her father's gift to her, wasfamous in that country-side for its swiftness and power, alsobecause it was so docile that a child could ride it; while thoseof the brethren were heavy-built but well-trained war steeds,taught to stand where they were left, and to charge when theywere urged, without fear of shouting men or flashing steel.
Now the ground lay thus. Some seventy yards from the shore ofDeath Creek and parallel to it, a tongue of land, covered withscrub and a few oaks, ran down into the Saltings, its pointending on their path, beyond which were a swamp and the broadriver. Between this tongue and the shore of the creek the trackwended its way to the uplands. It was an ancient track; indeedthe reason of its existence was that here the Romans or someother long dead hands had built a narrow mole or quay of roughstone, forty or fifty yards in length, out into the water of thecreek, doubtless to serve as a convenience for fisher boats,which could lie alongside of it even at low tide. This mole hadbeen much destroyed by centuries of washing, so that the end ofit lay below water, although the landward part was still almostsound and level.
Coming over the little rise at the top of the wooded tongue, thequick eyes of Wulf, who rode first--for here the path along theborder of the swamp was so narrow that they must go in singlefile--caught sight of a large, empty boat moored to an iron ringset in the wall of the mole.
"Your fishermen have landed, Rosamund," he said, "and doubtlessgone up to Bradwell."
"That is strange," she answered anxiously, "since here nofishermen ever come." And she checked her horse as though toturn.
"Whether they come or not, certainly they have gone," saidGodwin, craning forward to look about him; "so, as we have nothingto fear from an empty boat, let us push on."
On they rode accordingly, until they came to the root of thestone quay or pier, when a sound behind them caused them to lookback. Then they saw a sight that sent the blood to their hearts,for there behind them, leaping down one by one on to that narrowfootway, were men armed with naked swords, six or eight of them,all of whom, they noted, had strips of linen pierced with eyeletholes tied beneath their helms or leather caps, so as to concealtheir faces.
"A snare! a snare!" cried Wulf, drawing his sword. "Swift!follow me up the Bradwell path!" and he struck the spurs into hishorse. It bounded forward, to be dragged next second with allthe weight of his powerful arm almost to its haunches. "God'smercy!" he cried, "there are more of them!" And more there were,for another band of men armed and linen-hooded like the first,had leapt down on to that Bradwell path, amongst them a stoutman, who seemed to be unarmed, except for a long, crooked knifeat his girdle and a coat of ringed mail, which showed through theopening of his loose tunic.
"To the boat!" shouted Godwin, whereat the stout man laughed--alight, penetrating laugh, which even then all three of them heardand noted.
Along the quay they rode, since there was nowhere else that theycould go, with both paths barred, and swamp and water on one sideof them, and a steep, wooded bank upon the other. When theyreached it, they found why the man had laughed, for the boat wasmade fast with a strong chain that could not be cut; more, hersail and oars were gone.
"Get into it," mocked a voice; "or, at least, let the lady getin; it will save us the trouble of carrying her there."
Now Rosamund turned very pale, while the face of Wulf went redand white, and he gripped his sword-hilt. But Godwin, calm asever, rode forward a few paces, and said quietly:
"Of your courtesy, say what you need of us. If it be money, wehave none--nothing but our arms and horses, which I think maycost you dear."
Now the man with the crooked knife advanced a little, accompaniedby another man, a tall, supple-looking knave, into whose ear hewhispered.
"My master says," answered the tall man, "that you have with youthat which is of more value than all the king's gold--a very fairlady, of whom someone has urgent need. Give her up now, and goyour way with your arms and horses, for you are gallant youngmen, whose blood we do not wish to shed."
At this it was the turn of the brethren to laugh, which both ofthem did together.
"Give her up," answered Godwin, "and go our ways dishonoured?Aye, with our breath, but not before. Who then has such urgentneed of the lady Rosamund?"
Again there was whispering between the pair.
"My master says," was the answer, "he thinks that all who see herwill have need of her, since such loveliness is rare. But if youwish a name, well, one comes into his mind; the name of theknight Lozelle."
"The knight Lozelle!" murmured Rosamund, turning even paler thanbefore, as well she might. For this Lozelle was a powerful manand Essex-born. He owned ships of whose doings upon the seas andin the East evil tales were told, and once had sought Rosamund'shand in marriage, but being rejected, uttered threats for whichGodwin, as the elder of the twins, had fought and wounded him.Then he vanished--none knew where.
"Is Sir Hugh Lozelle here then?" asked Godwin, "masked like youcommon cowards? If so, I desire to meet him, to finish the work Ibegan in the snow last Christmas twelvemonths."
"Find that out if you can," answered the tall man. But Wulfsaid, speaking low between his clenched teeth:
"Brother, I see but one chance. We must place Rosamund betweenus and charge them."
The captain of the band seemed to read their thoughts, for againhe whispered into the ear of his companion, who called out:
"My master says that if you try to charge, you will be fools,since we shall stab and ham-string your horses, which are toogood to waste, and take you quite easily as you fall. Come then,yield, as you
can do without shame, seeing there is no escape,and that two men, however brave, cannot stand against a crowd.He gives you one minute to surrender."
Now Rosamund spoke for the first time.
"My cousins," she said, "I pray you not to let me fall livinginto the hands of Sir Hugh Lozelle, or of yonder men, to be takento what fate I know not. Let Godwin kill me, then, to save myhonour, as but now he said he would to save my soul, and striveto cut your way through, and live to avenge me."
The brethren made no answer, only they looked at the water andthen at one another, and nodded. It was Godwin who spoke again,for now that it had come to this struggle for life and theirlady, Wulf, whose tongue was commonly so ready, had grownstrangely silent, and fierce-faced also.
"Listen, Rosamund, and do not turn your eyes," said Godwin."There is but one chance for you, and, poor as it is, you mustchoose between it and capture, since we cannot kill you. Thegrey horse you ride is strong and true. Turn him now, and spurinto the water of Death Creek and swim it. It is broad, but theincoming tide will help you, and perchance you will not drown."
Rosamund listened and moved her head backwards towards the boat.Then Wulf spoke--few words and sharp: "Begone, girl! we guard theboat."
She heard, and her dark eyes filled with tears, and her statelyhead sank for a moment almost to her horse's mane.
"Oh, my knights! my knights! And would you die for me? Well, ifGod wills it, so it must be. But I swear that if you die, thatno man shall be aught to me who have your memory, and if youlive--" And she looked at them confusedly, then stopped.
"Bless us, and begone," said Godwin.
So she blessed them in words low and holy; then of a suddenwheeled round the great grey horse, and striking the spur intoits flank, drove straight at the deep water. A moment thestallion hung, then from the low quay-end sprang out wide andclear. Deep it sank, but not for long, for presently its rider'shead rose above the water, and regaining the saddle, from whichshe had floated, Rosamund sat firm and headed the horse straightfor the distant bank. Now a shout of wonderment went up from thewoman thieves, for this was a deed that they had never thought agirl would dare. But the brethren laughed as they saw that thegrey swam well, and, leaping from their saddles, ran forward afew paces--eight or ten--along the mole to where it wasnarrowest, as they went tearing the cloaks from their shoulders,and, since they had none, throwing them over their left arms toserve as bucklers.
The band cursed sullenly, only their captain gave an order to hisspokesman, who cried aloud:
"Cut them down, and to the boat! We shall take her before shereaches shore or drowns."
For a moment they wavered, for the tall twin warriors who barredthe way had eyes that told of wounds and death. Then with a rushthey came, scrambling over the rough stones. But here thecauseway was so narrow that while their strength lasted, two menwere as good as twenty, nor, because of the mud and water, couldthey be got at from either side. So after all it was but two totwo, and the brethren were the better two. Their long swordsflashed and smote, and when Wulf's was lifted again, once more itshone red as it had been when he tossed it high in the sunlight,and a man fell with a heavy splash into the waters of the creek,and wallowed there till he died. Godwin's foe was down also,and, as it seemed, sped.
Then, at a muttered word, not waiting to be attacked by others,the brethren sprang forward. The huddled mob in front of themsaw them come, and shrank back, but before they had gone a yard,the swords were at work behind. They swore strange oaths, theycaught their feet among the rocks, and rolled upon their faces.In their confusion three of them were pushed into the water,where two sank in the mud and were drowned, the third onlydragging himself ashore, while the rest made good their escapefrom the causeway. But two had been cut down, and three hadfallen, for whom there was no escape. They strove to rise andfight, but the linen masks flapped about their eyes, so thattheir blows went wide, while the long swords of the brotherssmote and smote again upon their helms and harness as the hammersof smiths smite upon an anvil, until they rolled over silent andstirless.
"Back!" said Godwin; "for here the road is wide; and they willget behind us."
So back they moved slowly, with their faces to the foe, stoppingjust in front of the first man whom Godwin had seemed to kill,and who lay face upwards with arms outstretched.
"So far we have done well," said Wulf, with a short laugh. "Areyou hurt?"
"Nay," answered his brother, "but do not boast till the battle isover, for many are left and they will come on thus no more. PrayGod they have no spears or bows."
Then he turned and looked behind him, and there, far from theshore now, swam the grey horse steadily, and there upon its backsat Rosamund. Yes, and she had seen, since the horse must swimsomewhat sideways with the tide, for look, she took the kerchieffrom her throat and waved it to them. Then the brethren knewthat she was proud of their great deeds, and thanked the saintsthat they had lived to do even so much as this for her dear sake.
Godwin was right. Although their leader commanded them in astern voice, the band sank from the reach of those awful swords,and, instead, sought for stones to hurl at them. But here laymore mud than pebbles, and the rocks of which the causeway wasbuilt were too heavy for them to lift, so that they found butfew, which when thrown either missed the brethren or did themlittle hurt. Now, after some while, the man called "master"spoke through his lieutenant, and certain of them ran into thethorn thicket, and thence appeared again bearing the long oars ofthe boat.
"Their counsel is to batter us down with the oars. What shall wedo now, brother?" asked Godwin.
"What we can," answered Wulf. "It matters little if Rosamund isspared by the waters, for they will scarcely take her now, whomust loose the boat and man it after we are dead."
As he spoke Wulf heard a sound behind him, and of a sudden Godwinthrew up his arms and sank to his knees. Round he sprang, andthere upon his feet stood that man whom they had thought dead,and in his hand a bloody sword. At him leapt Wulf, and so fiercewere the blows he smote that the first severed his sword arm andthe second shore through cloak and mail deep into the thief'sside; so that this time he fell, never to stir again. Then helooked at his brother and saw that the blood was running down hisface and blinding him.
"Save yourself, Wulf, for I am sped," murmured Godwin.
"Nay, or you could not speak." And he cast his arm round him andkissed him on the brow.
Then a thought came into his mind, and lifting Godwin as thoughhe were a child, he ran back to where the horses stood, andheaved him onto the saddle.
"Hold fast!" he cried, "by mane and pommel. Keep your mind, andhold fast, and I will save you yet."
Passing the reins over his left arm, Wulf leapt upon the back ofhis own horse, and turned it. Ten seconds more, and the pirates,who were gathering with the oars where the paths joined at theroot of the causeway, saw the two great horses thundering downupon them. On one a sore wounded man, his bright hair dabbledwith blood, his hands gripping mane and saddle, and on the otherthe warrior Wulf, with starting eyes and a face like the face ofa flame, shaking his red sword, and for the second time that dayshouting aloud: "A D'Arcy! a D'Arcy! Contre D'Arcy, contreMort!"
They saw, they shouted, they massed themselves together and heldup the oars to meet them. But Wulf spurred fiercely, and, shortas was the way, the heavy horses, trained to tourney, gatheredtheir speed. Now they were on them. The oars were swept asidelike reeds; all round them flashed the swords, and Wulf felt thathe was hurt, he knew not where. But his sword flashed also, oneblow--there was no time for more--yet the man beneath it sanklike an empty sack.
By St. Peter! They were through, and Godwin still swayed uponthe saddle, and yonder, nearing the further shore, the grey horsewith its burden still battled in the tide. They were through!they were through! while to Wulf's eyes the air swam red, and theearth seemed as though it rose up to meet them, and everywherewas flaming fire.
But the shouts had died away behind them, and the only sound wasth
e sound of the galloping of their horses' hoofs. Then thatalso grew faint and died away, and silence and darkness fell uponthe mind of Wulf.
The Brethren Page 3
