by G. A. Henty
The next morning the cavalcade mounted early, and in the afternoon rode into the fortress of Eu. It stood upon the river Bresle, and had, previous to the conquest of Ponthieu, been the frontier guard of Normandy on the north. It lay only some ten miles from the spot where the Saxon galley had been wrecked. A messenger had arrived there early in the day from Fitz-Osberne saying that Conrad of Ponthieu had assented to the demand of the duke for the surrender of his captives, that these had been at once released from their confinement, and were now honourably entertained. They would start on the following morning from Beaurain, and would be accompanied by Conrad, who desired to come to Eu to pay his respects to the duke.
Although it had been certain that Conrad would not venture to refuse the command of his powerful over-lord, Wulf and Beorn were greatly delighted to hear that Harold and his companions had at once been released from their imprisonment, and that they would so speedily arrive at Eu. In the afternoon of the following day a messenger arrived stating that the cavalcade was but an hour’s ride away, and preparations were at once made to receive it with all honour. The garrison of the castle in their bravest attire lined the courtyard, hangings brought from Rouen were disposed round the walls of the great hall, two chairs of state were placed on the dais, the men-at-arms who had come from Rouen were drawn up on either side of the great entrance, and here William with his nobles assembled when the cavalcade approached the castle.
The procession was headed by the Norman men-at-arms of Fitz-Osberne and Warren. After them rode Conrad of Ponthieu with Harold by his side. Both carried hawks on their wrists, and were, apparently, on the most amiable terms. Behind them rode Harold’s brother and nephew and the two Norman barons; they were followed by the Saxon thanes and the officers of the count’s household. Behind these came on foot the Saxons of inferior degree who had been left at St. Valery, and who had by Conrad’s orders been sent to join the cavalcade where it crossed the Somme at Abbeville; the procession was closed by a strong body of the count’s men-at-arms. They rode through the double line of spearmen until they reached the entrance. Then as Harold dismounted, the duke descended the steps and embraced him with the warmest expressions of satisfaction at thus meeting the most illustrious of Englishmen.
Harold replied in suitable terms, and the duke then turned to Conrad and thanked him warmly for having acceded to his request.
Ponthieu was but newly conquered, and might yet be a thorn in the side of Normandy in the event of a renewal of war with France. It was therefore to William’s interest to treat Conrad’s obedience to his orders as if it had been a voluntary submission, and to ignore his discourteous treatment of his captives. In order to eradicate all sense of injury on the part of his vassal, he not only paid him the ransom for Harold but gave him a considerable grant of territory. The duke now presented his nobles and principal officers to Harold, and then with his arm placed familiarly on his guest’s shoulder led him into the hall, and placed him in the chair of state beside his own, other seats being placed for Wulfnoth and Hakon and for some of the principal Norman barons, while the rest mingled with the Saxon thanes in the body of the hall. As soon as the reception was over Wulf hurried out into the courtyard to speak to Osgod.
“Right glad am I to see you again, Osgod; I have been troubled as to how you were faring.”
“In truth we have fared badly enough, master; we have been working like beasts of burden, without having food that would suffice for an ass. However, it was not for long, and will do us no harm, though there are more than one of those fellows at St. Valery with whom I would gladly have ten minutes play with cudgel or quarter-staff. You may guess how surprised we were yesterday evening when we were suddenly called out from the shed where we were sleeping, and with many professions of regret and apology for our treatment conducted to better quarters, where a good honest meal was set before us, and we were then told that the duke himself had just arrived at Eu, and that Harold and all his following were there to be given up to him. We had fresh rushes for our beds, and a hearty breakfast this morning, and were then placed in boats and taken up to Abbeville. We had been there but an hour when the earl arrived with the thanes, and glad were we, as you may imagine, to see his face again. They stopped there for an hour to rest their steeds and to dine, and then we marched hither as you saw. I had missed you and Beorn from Harold’s party, and made shift to approach the earl and humbly ask him what had become of you. ‘No harm has befallen your master and his friend, good fellow,’ the earl said. ‘They have indeed done me good service, for they made their escape from Beaurain and carried the news of our detention to Duke William, and it is thus that we have all obtained our liberty.’ You seem to have fared bravely, Wulf, judging from your attire.”
“Yes, we were in sore plight when we arrived at Rouen, but the duke saw that we were provided with clothes and with horses for our journey here.”
At this moment an attendant came out from the hall and informed Wulf that the duke desired speech with him. Beorn was already at the entrance, and they were conducted on to the dais.
“Here are your two pages,” the duke said to Harold. “I hold myself to be greatly their debtor for having carried me the news that has brought about this meeting, and given me the pleasure of having you as my guest. They are faithful lads and quick-witted, for no men could have carried out the mission better or more promptly than they did.”
“Still more am I indebted to them,” Harold said as he held out his hand to the two lads, who bent on one knee while they kissed it. “I knew not of their going until I learnt from your barons that they had reached Rouen with the news. They are wards of mine, and although at one time my pages they have ceased to be so for more than a year, and have both been down upon their estates learning the duties of their station, which I deemed better for them than wasting their time and getting into mischief at court.”
The duke nodded. “The result shows that your course was a wise one. At court youths learn but little good. The atmosphere is not healthy for men still less for boys, and these youths will shortly be of an age when they will be fit to render men’s service, as indeed they have already done.” The lads now retired from the dais.
“It has been a fortunate week’s work for us,” Beorn said. “We have obtained the freedom of our lord and have gained his approbation and that of Duke William; though, indeed, it matters not greatly as to the duke.”
“I don’t know, Beorn; one cannot look into the future, and there is no saying what may happen. Anyhow, even now it may be of advantage to us. Honourably as the duke is treating Harold, the earl is still wholly in his power, and until we hear something of his intentions we are all just as much prisoners as we were to Conrad, although I admit the captivity is a very much more pleasant one.”
CHAPTER VII
THE OATH
From Eu the party travelled back to Rouen where there were feastings and entertainments in honour of Harold. Nothing could be more courteous than the duke’s manner to his guest. He professed an almost fraternal affection for him, and handsome lodgings were assigned in the town to his thanes. A solemn court was held, at which Harold was knighted by William himself with much state and ceremonial, according to the rites of chivalry, which had then been but recently introduced, and had not as yet extended into England. There were great hunting parties in the forest, and to all outward appearance the friendship between William and Harold was of the warmest and most sincere nature. Harold himself was really gratified at the pains that William took to show the esteem in which he held him, and his thanes were all well satisfied with the attentions bestowed upon them by the Norman barons.
Beorn and Wulf had nothing to do save to make friends with young Normans of their own age, to visit their castles and to join in the hunting parties. The duke lost no opportunity of showing the sincerity of the feelings of gratitude he had expressed to them for bringing him the news of Harold’s presence in his dominions, and they were always specially invited to all court ceremon
ials, enjoying themselves exceedingly. Wulf occasionally expressed his surprise to his companion that no word was said as to their return to England, but Beorn’s answer always silenced him.
“The earl himself seems well satisfied, Wulf. Why should you be more anxious for him than he is for himself?”
Once indeed he replied, “Harold is of so open and generous nature, Beorn, that he would be the last person to suspect another of dishonourable motives. Moreover, it is not because he is apparently well content here that we must judge him to be without uneasiness. Whatever he felt it would be impolitic to show it, and we see but little of him now save when in company of the Normans. He cannot but know that his presence is required in England.”
It was a matter of satisfaction to Wulf that Walter Fitz-Urse was not at the court, he having a few weeks before returned to England, where he was again in the suite of the Norman bishop of London. He himself had become firm friends with Guy de Burg, and often rode over with him to his father’s residence, where they hunted in the forest together or rode out with falcons on their wrists, Agnes de Burg often accompanying them on her pony.
Three weeks after their arrival at Rouen the Bretons broke out in insurrection, and the duke invited Harold to accompany him on an expedition to subdue them, courteously saying that he should obtain great advantage from the military experience of his guest.
Harold accepted the invitation, and with his thanes set out with the duke. Against the disciplined forces of Normandy the Breton peasants had no chance whatever in the open field, but their wild and broken country, well-nigh covered with forest, afforded them an opportunity for the display of their own method of fighting by sudden surprises and attacks, and they defended their rough but formidable intrenchments with desperate valour. Harold’s experience gained in his warfare with the Welsh was of much utility, and the duke committed to his hands the formal command of the troops engaged, averring that he himself knew comparatively little of warfare such as this.
Harold conducted the operations with equal vigour and prudence. Stronghold after stronghold was attacked and captured, a small portion of the force only being engaged in active operations, whilst the rest were posted so as to repel the attempts of the Bretons to aid the besieged. By his advice clemency was always shown to the garrisons when the fortresses were stormed, and they were permitted to return unharmed to their people, bearing the news that the duke bore no ill-will towards them, and was ready to show mercy to all who laid down their arms. Wulf and Beorn were permitted to share in the assaults, and with the Saxon thanes followed Harold, as he led the way on foot up to the intrenchments at one point, while the duke with a party of his barons attacked at another. More than once the English banner was carried into the heart of the Breton fortress before the Normans had fought their way in, and on each of these occasions the duke warmly expressed his admiration for the courage of his English allies. At last there remained but one formidable stronghold to be captured, and so strong was this by nature, and so desperately defended, that for some time the efforts of the besiegers were fruitless.
One evening Guy de Burg had been with Wulf in his tent. Beorn was out spending the evening with some of his Norman friends. When Guy rose to go Wulf said that he would walk with him to his father’s tent, which was situated some little distance away. As there had been strict regulations that none were to move about without arms, he buckled on his sword and put on his helmet before starting. Osgod, who was lying outside the tent, rose when they issued out and followed them at a short distance. They went along at the rear of the tents, when Wulf suddenly said:
“It seems to me that I hear sounds in the forest, Guy.”
“De Launey’s men are posted behind us,” Guy said carelessly; “there is no fear of an attack.”
“Not if they are vigilant,” Wulf agreed. “But the Bretons have for some time abstained from night surprises, and De Launey’s men may be keeping a poor watch.”
Suddenly there was a loud cry, followed immediately by the Breton war-shout, and by a confusion of shouts, cries, and the sound of the clashing of arms.
The lads drew their swords and ran towards the scene of conflict, when, from some bushes a short distance from them, a number of wild figures sprung out. It was a party of the enemy who had made their way through De Launey’s sleeping men unobserved, and who now, knowing that further concealment was useless, were rushing forward towards the tents. Wulf’s first impulse was to turn back, but young de Burg, shouting his father’s battle-cry, ran forward, and without hesitation Wulf followed him. A moment later they were engaged with the Bretons.
“Back to back, Guy!” Wulf exclaimed, as he ran his sword through the first man who attacked him.
He had scarcely spoken when Osgod ran up and joined them, and wielding the heavy axe he carried as if it had been a featherweight, struck down several of the Bretons who ventured within its swing.
Wulf defended himself as firmly, but had to shift his ground continually to avoid the blows of the heavy spiked clubs with which his assailants were armed. Presently he heard his name shouted, and an instant later a crash, as Guy de Burg was struck down.
“Stand over him, Osgod!” he shouted, and with a bound was beside his companion, cutting down a Breton who was about to thrust his spear into him. At the same moment a club descended on his helmet, bringing him for a moment to his knee. He sprang up again, Osgod striking his opponent to the ground before he could repeat his blow.
For two or three minutes the fight went on. Wulf received more than one stab from the Breton knives, as two or three of them often rushed in upon him at once, but each time when he was hard pressed Osgod’s axe freed him from his assailants, for so terrible were the blows dealt by the tall Saxon that the Bretons shrank from assailing him, and thus left him free at times to render assistance to Wulf. But the combat was too unequal to last long. A pike-thrust disabled Wulf for a moment, and as his arm fell a blow from a club stretched him beside Guy. Osgod had also received several wounds, but furious at his master’s fall he still defended himself with such vigour that the Bretons again fell back. They were on the point of attacking him anew, when there was a shout, and William and Harold, bareheaded as they had leapt from the table, and followed by a score or two of Norman barons and soldiers, fell upon the Bretons. The latter with cries of alarm at once fled.
By this time the Norman trumpets were everywhere sounding, and the troops hastening out to repel the attack, which a few minutes later ceased as suddenly as it began, the Bretons flying into the forest, where pursuit by the heavily-armed Normans was hopeless. Returning to the tents, the duke and Harold paused where Osgod, who had sunk to the ground as soon as the Breton attack had ceased, was sitting by the side of his master.
“Whom have we here?” the duke asked. “Whoever they are we owe our safety to them, Harold, for had it not been for the resistance they made, the Bretons would have been among our tents before we had time to catch up our arms. Bring a torch here!” he shouted; and two or three soldiers came running up from the tents with lights.
“Methinks it is one of my men,” Harold said, and repeated the duke’s question in Saxon.
“I am Osgod, my lord, the servant of Wulf of Steyning, who with his friend, Guy de Burg, lies here beside me, I fear done to death.”
“I trust not, indeed,” Harold said, stooping over the bodies.
At this moment the men came up with the lights. “By the rood,” William exclaimed, “but they fought stoutly, whoever they are. The ground round them is covered with the bodies of these Breton rascals. There must be at least a score of them, while so far as I can see there are but three of our men. Who are they, Harold?”
“One is Guy, son of the Baron de Burg,” Harold replied. “Another is young Wulf, and this stout fellow is his man.”
“Right gallantly have they done,” the duke exclaimed, “and I trust that their lives are not spent. Let someone summon De Burg here quickly. Carry his son to his tent, and bid my leech att
end at once to his wounds and to those of these brave Saxons.”
“I will carry Wulf to his tent myself,” Harold said, raising the lad and carrying him off, while four soldiers followed bearing Osgod. They were laid down together in Wulf’s tent. As the young thane’s helmet was removed, he opened his eyes and looked round in bewilderment as he saw, by the light of the torches, Harold and several others standing beside him.
“What has happened?” he asked faintly.
“The best thing that has happened is that you have come to yourself and are able to speak, Wulf,” Harold said. “But do not try to talk, lad, until the leech comes and examines your wounds. You have done us all a rare service tonight, for thanks to the carelessness of De Launey’s men, most of whom have paid for their error with their lives, we should all have been taken by surprise had it not been for the brave stand you made. Now we will take off your garments and see where you are wounded. They seem to be soaked everywhere with blood.”
“I received three or four gashes with their knives,” Wulf said feebly, “and I think a spear wound. How are the others?”
“I know not about Guy,” Harold said, “but your man is able to speak, and has not, I hope, received mortal injuries.”
“Don’t trouble yourself about me, Master Wulf,” Osgod put in. “I have got a few pricks with the knaves’ knives, and a spear-thrust or two, but as I was able to keep on my feet until the earl arrived with help, I think the wounds are of no great consequence.”
“If aught happens to me,” Wulf said to Harold, “I pray you to see to him, my lord, and to take him as one of your own men. Had it not been for him the Bretons would have made short work of us.”
He could barely utter the words, and again became insensible from loss of blood.
When he recovered the leech was kneeling beside him, pouring oil into his wounds and applying bandages.
“Do not try to talk,” he said quietly, as Wulf opened his eyes. “Lie quite still, the least movement might cause your wounds to break out afresh. They are serious, but I think not of a mortal nature.”
