The Lances of Lynwood

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER V

  A battle in the days of chivalry was far less destructive than those ofmodern times. The loss in both armies at Navaretta did not amount tosix hundred; and on Pedro's side but four Knights had fallen, of whomSir Reginald Lynwood was the only Englishman.

  On the following day all the four were buried in solemn state, at thechurch of the village of Navaretta, Sir Eustace following his brother'sbier, at the head of all the men-at-arms.

  On returning to his tent, Eustace found Gaston sitting on his couch,directing Guy, and old Poitevin, who had the blue crossletted pennonspread on the ground before him. Eustace expressed his wonder. "What,"exclaimed Gaston, "would I see my Knight Banneret, the youngest Knightin the army, with paltry pennon! A banneret are you, dubbed in theopen field, entitled to take precedence of all Knight Bachelors. Here,Leonard, bring that pennon to me, that I may see if it can be cutsquare."

  "Poor Eleanor's pennon!" said Eustace, sadly.

  "Nay, what greater honour can it have than in becoming a banner? Ionly grieve that this bloodstain, the noblest mark a banner can bear,is upon the swallow-tail. But what do I see? You, a belted Knight, inyour plain Esquire's helmet, and the blood-stained surcoat! Ay, andnot even the gilded spurs!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Would that Ihad seen you depart! But it was Leonard's fault. Why, man, knew younot your duty?"

  "I am no Squire of Eustace Lynwood," said Ashton.

  "Every Squire is bound to serve the Knight in whose company he findshimself," said d'Aubricour. "Know you not thus much of the laws ofchivalry? Come, bestir yourself, that he may be better provided infuture. You must present yourself to the Prince to-morrow, SirEustace."

  "One of his Squires bade me to his presence," said the young Knight,"but I must now write these heavy tidings to my poor sister, and I amgoing to Father Waleran's tent to seek parchment and ink."

  "And how send you the letter?"

  "By the bearer of the Prince's letters to the King. Sir RichardFerrars knows him, and will give them into his charge. So farewell,Gaston, keep quiet, and weary not yourself with my equipment."

  With these words he left the tent, and Gaston, shaking his head, andthrowing himself back on his deer-skins, exclaimed, "Tender and true,brave and loving! I know not what to make of Eustace Lynwood. Hisspirit is high as a Paladin's of old, of that I never doubted, yet ishis hand as deft at writing as a clerk's, and his heart as soft as awoman's. How he sighed and wept the livelong night, when he thoughtnone could hear him! Well, Sir Reginald was a noble Knight, and isworthily mourned, but where is the youth who would not have been moreuplifted at his own honours, than downcast at his loss; and whatnew-made Knight ever neglected his accoutrements to write sad tidingsto his sister-in-law? But," he continued, rising again, "Guy, bring mehere the gilded spurs you will find yonder. The best were, I know,buried with Sir Reginald, and methought there was something amiss withone rowel of the other. So it is. Speed to Maitre Ferry, thearmourer, and bid him come promptly."

  "And lie you still on your couch meanwhile, Master d'Aubricour," saidGuy, "or there will soon be another Squire missing among the Lances ofLynwood."

  "I marvel at you, d'Aubricour," said Leonard, looking up from a pasty,which he was devouring with double relish, to make up for pastprivations, "I marvel that you should thus weary yourself, with yourfresh wound, and all for nought."

  "Call you our brave young banneret nought? Shame on thee! All Englandshould be proud of him, much more his friend and companion."

  "I wish Eustace Lynwood well with all my heart," said Leonard, "but Isee not why he is to be honoured above all others. Yourself, Gaston,so much older, so perfect in all exercises, you who fought with thisFrenchman too, of whom they make so much, the Prince might as well haveknighted you, as Eustace, who would have been down in another momenthad not I made in to the rescue. Methinks if I had been the Prince, Iwould have inquired upon whom knighthood would sit the best."

  "And the choice would have been the same," said Gaston. "Not only wasSir Eustace the captor of Messire Bertrand, whereas my luck was quiteotherwise; but what would knighthood have availed the wanderinglandless foreigner, as you courteously term me, save to fit me for theleadership of a band of _routiers_, and unfit me for the office of anEsquire, which I do, as you say, understand indifferently well."

  "Is it not the same with him?" cried Leonard. "He does not own apalm's breadth of land, and for gold, all he will ever possess is onthose broken spurs of his brother's."

  "Listen to me, Leonard," said Gaston. "Rich or poor, Sir Eustace isthe only fit leader of the Lances till the little boy is of age, butthis he could not be without knightly rank. Even in this campaign,when I might have taken the command, I being disabled for the present,it must have devolved on him, who might not have been so readilyobeyed."

  "No, indeed," said Leonard. "Strange that the touch of the Prince'ssword should make so great a difference between him and me."

  "If it was the touch of the Prince's sword that did so," said Gaston.

  "What else?" sharply retorted Leonard. "Not height nor strength! Hishand and arm might belong to a girl, I could crush it in my grasp." Sosaying, he extended a huge, hard, red palm.

  "Ay?" said Gaston; "I should like to see whether that great paw wouldhave won Du Guesclin's sword."

  "I tell you flatly," proceeded Ashton, "I might follow Sir Reginald,since he was a man of substance, honoured in our country, and my fathermeant to oblige and do him grace by placing me with him."

  "Grace!" repeated Gaston.

  "But," continued Ashton, angrily, "as to serving Eustace, the clerk, noolder than myself, half a head shorter, and a mere landless upstart,that my father's son shall never do!"

  "Say you so?" said Gaston. "I recommend you not to do so quite soloud, or perchance the landless upstart might hand your father's sonover to the Provost Marshal, for preaching disaffection to his men.And, in good time, here comes the Master Armourer."

  The rest of the day was spent by Gaston in the arrangement of theequipments, so important in his estimation, and scarcely another wordwas spoken save on the choice of helm and shield, and the adaptation ofcrests and blazonry. The next point for consideration was the disposalof the prisoners taken by the Lances of Lynwood in the early part ofthe battle. Two were Squires, the other four, rough-lookingmen-at-arms who protested that they could not pay one denier towardstheir ransom. Eustace liberated them, and was greatly inclined to dothe same by the Squires; but Gaston assured him it would be doing wrongto the Prince's cause to set the rogues free without taking some goodFrench crowns from them, and therefore, permitting him to name whatransom he thought fit, he returned to them their horses, and dismissedthem to collect the sum.

  Early the next morning, Gaston had the satisfaction of beholding hisyoung banneret arrayed in knightly guise, the golden spurs on hisheels, Du Guesclin's sword by his side, and his white mantle flung overhis shoulder. Leonard was summoned to accompany him, but he growledout something so like an absolute refusal and utter disclaimer of allduty to Sir Eustace, that Gaston began to reproach him vehemently.

  "Never mind, Gaston," said Eustace, "you never mend matters with him inthat way, I shall do very well alone."

  "So you shall never go," said Gaston, rising; "I will go myself, I havebeen longing to see you received by the Prince. Where is my sword?"

  "Nay, Gaston," said Eustace, "that must not be. See how the hotsunbeams lie across that hill between us and the Prince's tent. Youmust not waste your strength if it is true that we are to journey toBurgos to-day."

  "It shows how new your chivalry is, that you make so much of a merescratch," said Gaston, hastily commencing his preparations; "Guy, goyou and saddle Brigliador."

  "No, do not touch Brigliador," said Eustace. "You deny it in vain,Gaston; your face betrays that you do not move without pain. I learntsome leech-craft among my clerkly accomplishments, and you had bettertake care that you do not have the benefit. Leonard, since it is theonly
way to quiet him, I order you to mount."

  Leonard hung his head, and obeyed. They rode towards the village ofNajara, where Eustace found the Prince entering the church, to hearmorning mass. Giving his horse to John Ingram, he followed among theother Knights who thronged the little building.

  The service at an end, he received more than one kind greeting from hisbrother's friends, and one of them, Sir Richard Ferrars, a fine oldman, whose iron-gray locks contrasted with his ruddy complexion, ledhim forward to present him to the Prince of Wales.

  "Welcome! our new-made Knight," said Edward. "Brave comrades, Ipresent to you the youngest brother of our order, trusting you will notenvy him for having borne off the fairest rose of our chaplet ofNavaretta."

  Bertrand du Guesclin, who stood among the throng of nobles around thePrince, was the first to come forward and shake Eustace by the hand,saying with a laugh, "Nay, my Lord, this is the first time the ugliestKnight in France has been called by such a name. However, young Sir,may you win and wear many another."

  "That scarcely may be a sincere wish, Messire Bertrand," said the Dukeof Lancaster, "unless you mean roses of love instead of roses of war.And truly, with his face, and the fame he owes to you, methinks he willnot find our damsels at Bordeaux very hard of heart. See, he blushes,as if we had guessed his very thought."

  "Truly, my Lord John," said old Sir John Chandos sternly, "a man maywell blush to hear a son of King Edward talk as if such trifling werethe reward of knighthood. His face and his fame forsooth! as if hewere not already in sufficient danger of being cockered up, like someother striplings on whom it has pleased his Highness to conferknighthood for as mere a chance as this."

  "You have coloured his cheek in good earnest," said the Captal de Buch."Consider, Chandos, this is no time to damp his spirit."

  "It were a spirit scarce worth fostering, if it is to be damped by alittle breath of the lips one way or the other," said Sir John, movingoff, and adding, when out of Eustace's hearing, "A likely lad enoughhad he been under his brother's training, but they will spoil him, andI will have no hand in it."

  Eustace had been accustomed to hold the warrior in such veneration,that he felt considerably hurt and mortified at the want of welcomewhich contrasted with the kindness of the rest; and he could hardlyrecover his self-possession sufficiently to inquire the pleasure of thePrince with regard to his brother's troop.

  "Take command yourself," said Edward. "You surely have some Esquire orman-at-arms who can supply your own want of experience."

  "My brother's Squire, Gaston d'Aubricour, is well learned in chivalry,my Lord," said Eustace, "and I will do my best, with his aid, to fulfilmy trust."

  "It is well," said Edward. "The Lances of Lynwood are too well trainedeasily to forget their duty, and I fear not but that you will do well.How old is your brother's young heir?"

  "Eight years, my Lord."

  "We will soon have him at Bordeaux," said Edward, "that he may grow upwith my boys in the same friendship as their fathers. And now," addedhe, turning from Eustace to the assembled nobles around him, "let uspart, and prepare for our further journey. In an hour's time thebugles shall summon you to depart for Burgos."

  The Prince walked away towards his tent with the Captal de Buch, andEustace looked round for his horse, which he saw at no great distancewith Ingram, but Leonard Ashton was nowhere in sight. Eustace mounted,and rode towards his own tent, desiring the yeoman to seek Ashton out,while he himself proceeded slowly, musing, with feelings ofconsiderable disappointment and vexation, on the reception he had metfrom Sir John Chandos, the man in the whole camp whose good opinion hewould have most valued. "This is folly," thought he, however, rousinghimself after a minute or two of such meditations. "What said the goodold Baron but what I know full well myself, that I am far from meritingmy new honours? On whom does it depend, but myself to win his praise?And by our Lady's grace, I will make him confess at last, that, youngas I am, I can show that I deserve my spurs. What, ho! Ingram, whereis Master Ashton?"

  "Where you will little like to hear of him, Sir Knight," said theyeoman, galloping up on his tall Flemish horse. "At the wine-shop,yonder, in the village, with that ill-favoured, one-eyed Squire thatyou wot of. I called him as you desired, and all that I got for ananswer was, that he would come at his own time, and not at yourbidding."

  "Said he so? the ungracious, headstrong fellow!" said Eustace, lookingback wistfully. "And what to do! To ride back myself might be themeans of getting the whole troop late in starting, and disorderly--yet,to leave him!" Eustace looked at John Ingram's comely and stolid face,and then almost smiled at himself for seeking counsel from him. "Rideyou on, John," said he; "tell Master d'Aubricour of the order todepart--let all be in readiness by the time I return."

  Then turning his horse quickly, Eustace rode back to the village. Allwas haste and confusion there--horses were being led forth and saddled,pages, grooms, and men-at-arms hurrying to and fro--buglessounding--everything in the bustle incident to immediate departure. Hecould only make his way through the press slowly, and with difficulty,which ill suited with his impatience and perplexity. In front of theventa, a low white cottage, with a wooden balcony overspread withvines, there was a still closer press, and loud vehement voices, as ofdisputants, were heard, while the various men-at-arms crowded in soclosely to see the fray, if such it were, as to be almost regardless ofthe horse, which Eustace was pressing forward upon them. He lookedover their heads to see Leonard, but in vain. He thought of retreat,but found himself completely entangled in the throng. At that moment,a cry was heard, "The Provost Marshal!" The crowd suddenly, he knewnot how, seemed to melt away from around him, in different directions,and he found himself left, on horseback, in the midst of the littlevillage green, amongst scattered groups of disreputable-looking yeomen,archers, and grooms, who were making what speed they could to depart,as from the other side the Provost, the archers of the guard, and SirJohn Chandos entered upon the scene.

  "Ha! What is all this? Whom have we here?" exclaimed the old Baron."Sir Eustace Lynwood! By my life, a fair commencement for your daintyyoung knighthood!"

  "On my word, my Lord Chandos," said Eustace, colouring deeply, "I am noloiterer here; I came but to seek my Squire, Leonard Ashton, and foundmyself entangled in the crowd."

  "Ay, ay! I understand," said Chandos, without listening to him; "I seehow it will be. Off to your troop instantly, Master Knight. I supposethey are all seeking Squires in the wine-shops!"

  "You do me wrong, my Lord," said Eustace; "but you shall be obeyed."

  The bugles had already sounded before he reached his own quarters,where he found that, thanks to Gaston, all was right. The tent hadbeen taken down and packed on the baggage mules, the men were mounted,and drawn up in full array, with his banner floating above their heads;and Gaston himself was only waiting his appearance to mount a stoutmule, which Martin, the horse-boy, was leading up and down.

  "This is well. Thanks, good Gaston," said Eustace, with a sigh ofrelief, as he took off his heavy helmet, which had become much heatedduring his hasty ride in the hot sun.

  "No news of the truant?" asked Gaston. "Who but you would have thoughtof going after him? Well did I know you would never prosper without meat your elbow."

  Eustace smiled, but he was too much heated and vexed to give a verycheerful assent. He had only time to load Ferragus with his armour,and mount a small pony, before the signal for the march was given, andall set forth. Early in the year as it was, the sun already possessedgreat force, and the dry rocky soil of Castile reflected his beams, sothat, long before noon, it seemed to Eustace almost as if their marchlay through an oven. Nor were his perplexities by any means at an end;the thirst, occasioned by the heat, was excessive, and at every venta,in the villages through which they passed, the men called loudly forliquor; but the hot, fiery Spanish wine was, as Eustace had alreadybeen cautioned by Father Waleran, only fit to increase the evil, byinflaming their blood. It was the Holy Week, w
hich was to him asufficient reason for refraining entirely, contenting himself with adrink of water, when it could be procured, which, however, was butrarely. He would willingly have persuaded his men to do the same, butremonstrance was almost without effect, and his dry lips refused toutter a prohibition, which would have been esteemed at once cruel andunreasonable. In his persuasions to Gaston he was, however, more inearnest, representing to him that he was increasing the fever of hiswound; but the Squire was perfectly impracticable. At first, heanswered in his usual gay, careless manner, that the scratch wasnothing, and that, be what it might, he had as soon die of a wound asof thirst; but as the day wore on, it seemed as if the whole nature ofthe man were becoming changed. Sometimes he was boisterously loud inhis merriment, sometimes sullen and silent; and when Eustace,unwearied, reiterated his arguments, he replied to him, not only withcomplete want of the deference he was usually so scrupulous in payingto his dignity, but with rude and scurril taunts and jests on hisyouth, his clerkly education, and his inexperience. Eustace's patiencewould scarcely have held out, but that he perceived that d'Aubricourwas by no means master of himself, and he saw in his flushed brow, andblood-shot eye, reason to fear for the future effect of the presentexcess. There was suppressed laughter among the men at some of hissallies. Without being positively in disorder, the troop did notdisplay the well-arrayed aspect which had always hitherto distinguishedthe Lances of Lynwood; and poor Eustace, wearied and worn out, hisright-hand man failing him, dispirited by Chandos's reproach, andfeeling all the cares of the world on his shoulders, had seriousthoughts of going to the Prince, and resigning the command for which hewas unfit.

  At last he beheld the Cathedral of Burgos rising in the midst of theMoorish fortifications of the town, and, halting his men under theshade of a few trees, he rode on in search of the marshals of the camp,and as soon as the open space for his tents had been assigned, hereturned to see them raised. Gaston, who had of late become moresilent, was lifted from his mule, and assisted into the tent, where hewas laid on his couch, and soon after, Eustace was relieved from hisanxiety on Leonard Ashton's account, by his appearance. He camestumbling in without one word of apology, only declaring himself asweary as a dog, and, throwing himself down on a deer-skin on his ownside of the tent, was fast asleep in another minute.