The Young Adult Award-Winners Megapack

by Emily Cheney Neville

  Todhunter lay and thought a while. Now the birds came flapping around the ship, a host of them, and some lighted on the men. They rolled over to protect their faces, and their groanings became louder.

  “This is what those fiends have left us to,” roared Todhunter, raising himself and lunging desperately at three birds which were hanging over him. “They will peck the flesh off our bones while yet we live! Have ye a tinder box?” he asked suddenly.

  “Ay,” answered Desmond.

  “If we could kindle a blaze, maphap thou couldst burn thy ropes off. ’Tis our only hope, I do believe!”

  He rolled across the intervening space and fell across Desmond. The birds flapped and shrieked. More and more of them had gathered so that their wings cut off the sun, and they seemed to hang like a menacing cloud over the ship. The men fought them off desperately but unavailingly. They rolled about in the vain hope of finding protection. The pirates had left the hatchway blocked. One man, exhausted and terrified, and already frightfully wounded by the birds, with a curse and a prayer flung himself over the ship’s side. Another was about to follow his example, but Todhunter called to him.

  “Bear up but a little longer, and we may all be saved. I have the tinder box.”

  “Wouldst set me ablaze?” Desmond asked in amazement.

  “Thou couldst not be worse off than thou art now, forsooth, even though thou didst burn,” Tod answered relentlessly. “If we can char thy ropes a bit, thou couldst break them asunder.”

  After many unsuccessful attempts Tod finally succeeded in striking sparks with the flint and steel. The tinder caught, and fanned by the wings of the hovering birds, it blazed up, and caught Tod’s rough jacket. Desmond managed to get his hands into the burning cloth.

  “Heaven help us!” he muttered. “It will burn my wrist through before it finds the ropes.”

  “To say nothing of my back,” groaned Todhunter.

  The smoke kept the birds away from them. The fire was creeping up Tod’s arms. His back was well ablaze. Desmond gave a great groan and wrenched at the ropes. They gave, and, with a shout, he set about smothering the flames. In another moment Desmond had his feet free and was working at Tod’s chains. Both men forgot their aching hands and blistered backs, as they hastened to help the others. They fought away the birds with oars and chains. A wild cheer went up as all the men stood free.

  The birds understood that they had lost their prey. They screamed about the rigging with hoarse, mournful cries, then rose in a flock and departed like a gray cloud over the promontory. Many of them lay dead on the deck or struggled wounded in the water.

  There was no food or water on board, as the pirates had taken everything. The men were faint and weak. Two days later they reached Bergen, as gaunt and weary a crew as ever made port. Another English ship gave them aid, and under Todhunter’s command, they returned to England.

  “I should think the shrieking of these birds would set thy skin to twitching,” said Tom True Tongue, when Tod had finished.

  “Not so much as the sight of Ranolf, forsooth,” answered Tod, “and I doubt not if Beckman himself was far away.”

  “But how camest thou to see Stortebecker?” asked Wat. “Was he as powerful a giant as he was said to be?”

  “Ay, for hast thou not heard that he and Michelson bore the bones of St. Vincent against their breasts, the bones which they stole from a shrine in Spain? Those bones endowed them with superhuman strength.”

  “Then how came they ever to have been captured?”

  “A Hamburg alderman set forth in the ‘Colored Cow,’ and came upon Stortebecker’s ship one night at dusk off the coast of Norway. A courageous sailor poured molten lead upon the rudder, so that the ship became unseaworthy, and after a three days’ battle, Stortebecker and his crew were captured, and taken upon the ‘Colored Cow’ back to Hamburg. No treasure was found upon his ship, but when he was taken up for trial, he promised for his freedom a chain of gold and silver long enough to span the whole town of Hamburg. This did not tempt his judges, so he and his companions, dressed in their finest and gayest of clothes, were led to the executioner. It was later discovered that the mast of his ship was filled with molten gold, and there was indeed enough to make a chain which would span the town of Hamburg.”

  The tongues of the fenmen were loosened, and story followed upon story. Unnoticed by the others, Tod had drawn Tom True Tongue aside.

  “Tomorrow,” Tod said to him, “we must set out for Castle Bolingbroke.”

  “Why so?” asked Tom True Tongue in surprise.

  “It is necessary that I find Dismas, and I would take thee for company.”

  “Would that I had kept that badge he gave me, for ’twould have made our search the easier.”

  “Never fear,” answered Tod, “for well I know that if we once gain Bolingbroke, ’twill not be hard to find Dismas’s whereabouts.”

  CHAPTER X

  At Castle Bolingbroke

  Tod and Tom True Tongue set off early the next morning with stilts and skiff. By means of these they were able to short-cut the distance between Boston and Castle Bolingbroke. It was before noon when they finally left the stilts and skiff in concealment, and passing through the small village which had grown up around the castle, took to the main highway that approached it from the southwest.

  Castle Bolingbroke with its towers and rampart walls was situated in a hollow surrounded by hills on all sides but the one that opened to the vast, inaccessible stretch of fens and the distant town of Boston. Even on this sunny morning all was grim and cold about it, except for the silver flash of the pigeons circling about the gaunt, triangular tower at the southeast corner.

  “Alackaday!” groaned Tod, “I have not much liking for this day’s business. The very sight of yonder fortress clouds the sun and sets my heart to thumping.”

  “’Tis not too late to turn back,” answered Tom True Tongue. “I know naught of castle life, and it does not suit me to be gaped at by royal flunkies, and how dost think we shall ever find Dismas or Sir Popinjay?”

  “Tush!” answered Tod. “Trust me to find them and to outgape the best of them. Stiffen thyself and come along!”

  Even as they approached the drawbridge a company of horsemen came riding out. There was much gayety, for the day was fine, and they were off with falcons tied to their wrists. Foremost on a fine white horse rode none other than Lord Arundel, smartly clad in a hunting suit of Lincoln green.

  “Fortune favors us!” Tod exclaimed. “Here comes the gay-feathered bird himself.”

  As Lord Arundel approached, Tod stepped up to his horse’s head. Lord Arundel drew up. He looked at Tod, and then at Tom True Tongue.

  “What!” he exclaimed as he recognized them both. “Am I dreaming?”

  The other horsemen circled around.

  “Nay,” answered Tod quickly and in a low voice, “we have come hither seeking Dismas, for I have need of a word with him. Wilt thou lead us to him?”

  “That I cannot,” answered Lord Arundel quickly, “for he is off making war in Wales. Off with the Prince of Wales he is!”

  Tod’s face fell. “Well, then, my business will have to wait, and we will betake ourselves back the way we have come.”

  “Nay,” answered Lord Arundel quickly. “Now thou art here, think not I shall let thee go so easily. Thou didst entertain me in the fens, and now shall we entertain thee, thee and thy dreaming friend!” He turned to his surprised followers.

  “Would ye give up your hawking for sport of another kind?” he asked. “I promise ye it will be worth it. Do ye remember this wag?” and his gesture picked out Tom True Tongue, who stood at a distance.

  “He is the man who sent us splashing through the fens but a few days past,” some one answered.

  “Ay,” assented others of the party.

  “He has not so merry a look today methinks!” another said, as he circled around on his restive horse.

  “If thou shouldst ask me, I would say he does look
more wide-awake when he is dreaming.”

  “Come, let us wake him up!” several shouted together, and wheeling their horses about, they cut off the retreat of the protesting fenmen and carried them before them over the drawbridge.

  Once inside the castle yard, the surprised stableboys took the horses and falcons, and surrounded by the young noblemen, Tod and Tom True Tongue had the appearance of culprits brought to justice.

  “How now!” grumbled Tom when he had a chance to get a word into Tod’s ear, “what are we in for now?”

  “Do thy best whate’er it be!” Tod muttered back.

  “Now,” said Lord Arundel in the best of humor, “the stilt race that I have told ye of was this man’s idea,” and he dug Tom True Tongue with his elbow. “He was awake then and did run around and slap his sides with mirth.”

  “Mayhap a whack of the sandbag of the quintain would be good for him,” some gay voice suggested.

  “Let us see if he can read the motto on the fountain in the garden,” put in another.

  “Not so bad for a beginning,” agreed Lord Arundel, “but,” he added with a wink of the eye farther from Tom True Tongue, “of course there be naught to that but child’s play. Any fool can step up and look at words that be written plain.”

  Forthwith he led the way through the king’s own quarters, then unoccupied and meager in their furnishings, to the privy garden which was separated by a wall from the open space of the castle grounds.

  The garden was bright with spring flowers, and bees hummed in the blossoming fruit trees. Vines clambered over the walls, and the warm sun settled down here as if it was the one place in the whole grim castle where it could enter in and receive no rebuff.

  “Seest thou the fountain?” Lord Arundel said, taking the reluctant Tom True Tongue by the arm and walking with him toward a structure of stone which stood against the wall at one end. The figure on it was of a laughing faun. “The motto is about laughter, and seeing that thou knowest something about it indeed, do thou step up and read it to us.”

  “Nay,” expostulated Tom True Tongue, “I have but little skill at reading,” and he held back.

  “Thou canst spell it out, forsooth,” urged another.

  With hesitation Tom True Tongue stepped nearer, while the others drew back somewhat. Just as Tom’s eye reached the right level, and he took a step nearer to see what he could make of the letters, out from the mouth of the grinning face, which up to this time had been spouting harmlessly, came a torrent of water which struck Tom full and fair on his close-cropped head.

  “Ha! Ha! Ha!” shouted the onlookers who had retired to even a safer distance, and Tod outroared the best of them, as Tom, with water dripping from his very finger tips, turned, and stepping again on the fatal tile under which was concealed the device which caused this to happen, received another great deluge on the back of his head. Stamping and shaking himself, he drove the others ahead of him as he walked away from the fountain.

  “That is the pet delight of Prince Hal,” announced one of the youths. “Would that he had been here, for never have I seen it work so well! Ho! Ho!”

  Tom True Tongue was not angry but greatly amused at his own misfortune. “Did I not say I had no fondness for learning? This is but another attempt that has dampened me down.”

  “Now thou hast one eye open at least, hast thou not? We’ll pry up the other in the tilting yard mayhap, and then we’ll feed thee well, and so to sleep again if thou wouldst.”

  As they crossed the paved castle yard, still talking and laughing, Lord Arundel who was in the front of the party was suddenly tripped up, and sent sprawling.

  “The hare, the hare!” he cried, and all the young stopped short, for out from under their very feet sprang a large hare, speeding for the steps leading down to the prison room.

  “He went in there,” shouted one of the youths, pointing to the room at the head of the steps. “I saw him go in.”

  “Let’s after him, for there is no outlet,” cried another.

  Picking himself up, Lord Arundel led the chase. “Do ye all stand on guard and let him not escape, while I fetch some of the hounds,” one man suggested, and hurried off to the stables.

  He was soon back with two hounds straining at the leash that held them.

  “We have been watching, and he has not come out this way,” Lord Arundel said, “and as ye all know there is naught but a window high in the wall, which is grated.”

  The hounds were led to the doorway and loosed. They stood there, smelling the ground uneasily. Then urged into the small dark room they but backed out, crouching and whimpering.

  “’Tis a strange thing, and I believe there is something supernatural about it,” said Lord Arundel.

  “’Tis indeed an uneasy spirit which takes that form in coming back to earth. I for one do not like it,” agreed another.

  “Who dares to go in and grope about?” suggested Lord Arundel.

  “Not I, not I,” said one after another.

  “This isn’t the first time we have seen the hare.”

  “There is something uncanny about it.”

  “Even the dogs seem to know it.”

  “Wilt thou go in?” and Lord Arundel turned to Tod.

  “And why not?” assented Tod. “It was naught but a large, sleek hare as I saw it.”

  The youths shook their heads, and looked with admiration upon Tod as he strode into the dark recess. In a short space he returned. “Did it come out again?”

  “Nay,” they all said at once.

  “’Tis not there, forsooth,” announced Tod, “of that I am sure, for I walked around the room and groped with my hands into each and every dim part.”

  “’Tis always when we are the merriest that it does come racing along and trip us up. I do not know how many times I have had it run between my legs and send me sprawling!” said Lord Arundel, brushing the dust from the knees of his hunting suit as he spoke.

  “It does seem to begrudge us sport!” said another.

  “I have always said the castle was haunted,” announced a third, who had from the beginning hung in the background as if he did not at all like the turn things were taking and dreaded to have them investigated. “If ye will take my advice, ye will all cross yourselves and say a prayer for the soul of the man whose spirit is not laid to rest.”

  Slightly subdued by this happening, which was one which was wont to take place at Castle Bolingbroke, and gave it the name of being a haunted castle, the party continued outside the castle walls, across the moat filled thickly with giant lily pads where the frogs sat sunning themselves, and which later would glisten with a host of golden-hearted lilies, to the tilting field. Here a group of young squires were busy practicing at the quintain.

  The quintain was a crossbar turning upon a pivot, with a broad part to strike against with the lance on one side, and a bag of sand hanging from the other. In running at this it was necessary for the knight to direct his lance with great skill, for if it was struck wide of the center, the crossbar would turn about with great velocity, and the bag of sand would give him a severe blow upon the back.

  “Wouldst try thy hand at that?” Lord Arundel asked Tod.

  “Nay,” answered Tod, “but I do think that if thou wishest to tilt with me on yonder piece of water, I could hold my own against thee.”

  Beyond the tilting yard and through a beech copse lay a small sheet of water, the bright glitter of which had caught Tod’s eye.

  “Well and why not?” agreed Lord Arundel. “Of course thou art more at home riding a skiff than a horse, and I have some skill myself at water tilting.”

  “Ay, that he has. Thou hadst best look out!” cautioned one of the youths.

  “With a good lance and shield and Tom True Tongue at the oars, I have naught to fear,” answered Tod. “But he had best strip himself of his fine hunting suit.”

  “Never yet, except in thy mudhole, have I had cause to wish my clothes safe ashore,” put in Lord Arundel.

>   “So be it then!” agreed Tod, “but do not blame me if the color runs after a ducking.”

  Out into the pond slipped the two skiffs, and the match began. Back and forth sped the boats, and erect and fearless stood the two combatants, thrusting and parrying.

  “Upon mine honor!” muttered Lord Arundel, “’tis the first time I have met my match.”

  “’Tis the same with me!” answered Tod.

  “By fair means or foul thou goest in this day,” sang out Lord Arundel suddenly. He signaled to his boatman, then sprang lightly on to the edge of Tod’s skiff. Over it went, as Lord Arundel sprang back again into his own boat, which his boatman turned quickly to meet him. It was a favorite trick of his, and skilfully accomplished.

  The surprised Tod and Tom True Tongue came up, and shouts of laughter met their ears.

  “If the means be foul, look to thyself!” called Tod, as he took great strokes toward the skiff where Lord Arundel stood leaning on his lance, his face wreathed in smiles, and with every appearance of triumph.

  “To shore! To shore!” shouted Lord Arundel desperately to his oarsman, but it was too late. Out went Tod’s great arm, over went the skiff, and the next moment Lord Arundel came puffing and blowing to the surface.

  “Out upon thee!” he gasped. “My hunting suit will—alas!—be—fit—only—for a stableboy!”

  The young men watching from the shore danced with delight.

  “It but serves him right,” they shouted gleefully.

  “May he rise from this bath without stain,” quoted one, irreverently referring to the bath that was part of the ceremony of knighthood, whereupon they all laughed the louder.

  “Methinks it will turn him as green as a sapling in spring!” shouted another.

  Meanwhile the skiffs were righted, and all were aboard once more making for the shore.

  “Enough for this day!” Lord Arundel announced as he set foot on shore. “Let us eat and be merry, but do not let us spoil any more good garments. Egad! The last few days have robbed me of my clothes with the devastation of the Black Plague itself.”

  Late in the afternoon as Tod and Tom True Tongue were making their way homeward, Tod rubbed his stomach.